Reflections From Roaring River

I'm down in a hole, and other crazy winter adventures

2012-02-12T15:51:00.001-06:00

Actually, this is not me, but I couldn't resist quoting Gillian Welch. Is this dramatic or what? Spence went caving with some of my climbing friends, and this was their first stop at Neversink Pit.

Once you get down, then you have to climb back up.

Can you read this? Would you rappel on this? Me neither.

My climbing friend Denis and his friends from Russia, Igor and Olga, outside Tumbling Rock cave in Alabama.

Spence and Jess

Are those stalagmites or stalactites?

In another adventure, my friend Paige took her new canoe on its maiden voyage down Roaring River on Super Bowl Sunday.

Paige strikes a pose before launch!

Jess, Paige, Rebecca, Dawit, Spence, me, Caroline. It was a cold day! Only one of us swam. It's hard to tell which one from all the smiles.

After the paddle, we squeezed in one more adventure before kickoff with a short hike to Hardscrabble Falls. Note the varied hiking footwear: fuzzy Crocs, cowboy boots, and you can't see them but Merrill suede clogs. One of those feet (the same ones who swam RR) fell into a large puddle.

We made it back to the house 2 minutes after kickoff. That would be a travesty among those who care.

True grit

2012-01-11T08:00:00.002-06:00

I don't know many 3-year-olds who can hike 6.2 miles totally on their own two feet. I certainly don't know many mamas who would ask her 3-year-old to do such a thing. (How cruel, right?) But there IS one daddy who would. And he did. And that 3-year-old kicked some trail booty. So did his 5-year-old sister.

It's one of my favorite hikes. Twin Arches trail in Big South Fork. Beautiful and dramatic. And the pictures just don't do it justice.

So first an easy 0.7 miles to the loop's start, down, down, down a long flight of stairs. Then a 4.8-mile loop, the last mile of which switchbacks up, up, up the mountain. Then 0.7 back up the steps to the car. Total trip time: 6 long hours.

Down down down

Leading the squeeze

Sand angels

A little rest

Hope it's not a poison ivy vine!

Where's Waldo?

Extracting Daddy's cap from the sand

"Here, Daddy."

Leading the way

Walking with purpose

Wiped out but the end is in sight

"This is hard work," he says.

The last pull to the top

Yay, we made it! We're almost ready for the Ironman.

Holiday reflections

2011-12-29T19:01:00.000-06:00

On the Friday before Christmas, the Inman kids and cousins gathered for an old-fashioned chili supper with all the fixins.

Norma's beautiful Christmas spread

Norma's lovely real tree. My cheap self has used a fake tree ever since Spence and I decided that cutting down a cedar tree on our land was a pain, painful to decorate and a fire hazard. Next year I'm going real, cut by someone else.

Dawit, Sarah, Caroline, Savannah and Susanna in eager anticipation of opening the presents behind them

Uncle Spence and an unsure Susannah

Vegetarian chili dinner (Connie's non-vegetarian variety was amazing too)

Eager to rip in

Lovebirds

Sarah and Caroline couldn't contain their excitement

Wish I had pics of the chaos that subsequently ensued...

Wordless Wednesday

2011-12-28T17:39:00.000-06:00

Christmas in full swing

2011-12-26T07:49:00.000-06:00

Words are not necessary to describe the joy this toy of yore brought the kids. Their shrieks and giggles echoing through the valley said it all.

Skarloey wasn't as impressed.

***

"Look at Owie!"

2011-11-15T07:40:00.000-06:00

It's what Caroline used to shout when Dawit was engaging in mischief of some sort. Except she drawled it out in this singsong voice, like "Lookit Owwwwwie!" Now we look at Owie and wonder where our baby has gone. This beautiful big boy came into our lives two years, 5 months and 7 days ago. Now we can't imagine life without him.

Today, he turns 3:

We love you, Dawit! Happy birthday!

Poop dream

2011-10-30T16:00:00.002-05:00

Dawit is potty trained. Well, he's day-time potty trained. Which, as far as I'm concerned, is potty trained because I'm no longer changing poopy diapers.

How did we do it, you ask?

Here's how it went: We asked. He said no. We chased. He ran away. We smelled the evidence. He lied and said "No poop." We sat him on the potty. He produced nothing. We put his diaper back on. He pooped. We took his diaper off and vowed to watch for signs. We forgot and he pooped on the sidewalk. We sat him on the potty before bath. Nothing. He pooped in the tub. We tested him to see how long he'd sit in a poopy diaper. Then we called Guinness. Then we had a Guinness. Then we gave up.

THAT was a mere couple of weeks ago. Today, we are all four of us celebrating the gloriousness that is a potty. We're visiting it many times a day. We're high fiving over it. And congratulating each other. And waving good-bye to the poop as we flush.

Because we found the secret to potty training a boy: Don't give a crap.

Seriously. Put your mind in a place where you don't care if it ever happens. And I don't mean secretly care but pretend that you don't. Toddlers can detect that desire like you can detect a poopy diaper from 50 yards. If he suspects you care, it'll never happen.

You've got to completely give up the poop dream: Quit asking. Quit bribing. Quit buying M&Ms that only you are eating. Start researching size 7 diapers. Reinforce your changing table so it can handle 55 pounds. Draft that letter to his future kindergarten teacher warning that your son will be the first to enter school in diapers. Put away the cute Thomas and Friends undies. Put it all out of your mind.

Only when you extinguish all expectations will it happen.

It's really quite liberating because all you have to do is ... quit wanting it.

Please undertand that all of the above is just a bunch of bull. I no more have the secret than the 40 other people who've written books on the subject. This is simply what worked for us. But mainly because we're lazy. And because, in most circumstances, we don't mind our toddler sitting for three hours in his own feces if he doesn't mind -- as long as he doesn't want to snuggle.

I will say that recently we added a rule that everyone in the family -- toddler included -- sits before bed and upon waking each day. We didn't ask, and we didn't use words like pee or poop. We just called it sitting, and there were no expectations.

That's all it took. Something clicked. Now he asks 5 or 6 times a day. Even though he's about a year behind Caroline, he's way easier because there are no head games. He doesn't yell out from bed that he has to poop just to delay bedtime. If he has to go, he goes.

One less thing. Yay.

Summing it up

2011-10-27T15:04:00.000-05:00

If you wanted to capture the essence of my kids, wrap it all up in a neat little package, these three pics would almost do the trick.

Caroline has a spiral notebook and pen in her hand. She's happiest when she's adorning every available surface with hearts, happy faces and names of all the people she loves.
Dawit's pushing something with wheels.
Caroline's wearing pj's. Granted the sunset makes it look like bedtime is approaching, but she would wear them 24/7 if we (read: I) allowed it. If you draw the line at going out to restaurants in our sleepwear, Spence and I are on opposite sides of that line.
Dawit's cheesing it up for the camera, while Caroline is pretty much blowing it off.
Caroline's jagged little bangs give a little glimpse into her fiercely independent nature.
Dawit is the poster child for Thomas the Tank Engine. See shoes.
They're both a blur of activity.

So different, yet so uniquely awesome.

Fall break at the lake

2011-10-23T14:20:00.002-05:00

The earlier fishing pics of Dawit were a teaser to the week-long camping trip the kids and Spence took over fall break. I'm fairly certain there is no other dad on earth who would organize an adventure of this magnitude. If you know one, you're cordially invited next year.

Boat loaded, the three campers embark on a 20-minute paddle to what will be their home for the next 8 days: Big Goat Island on Dale Hollow Lake.

Caroline lives in her pjs no matter where she hangs her hat.

Just chillin'.

C took her carousel of markers and a lifetime supply of paper so she could continue her art while roughing it. She ran out of paper about four days in. On my weekend visit, I endlessly mated pens and lids.

Dawit enjoying the fire and a cup of applesauce.

Exploring divers' rock. I had continuous heart attacks keeping everyone from leaping/falling off.

Dawit washing clothes in a bear barrel.

Note the pink crocs on the wrong feet. Dad seriously lowers his manly standards when camping.

So "sweepy."

Never without her pad and pen.

The gang picked up Mama Norma for a visit to Big Goat.

Packing to come home.

On the way home, they stopped at McD's for a "healthy" dinner (way healthier than the camping fare of cheetos and squeeze cheese). When they finished, both kids declared they were ready to head back to camp.

Despite the fact they arrived home with not one single dry article, including the clothes they were all wearing, and all three had colds and a wicked cough, they all declared it the best fall break ever. Big Goat rules!

Leaf walk

2011-10-18T20:50:00.001-05:00

Sunday I took the kids on a leaf walk. As we collected, we admired the unique qualities of each leaf and marveled at how many different trees we have within 20 minutes of home. We compared some of them to things that would help us remember which tree they came from. (Which one looks like an alien? a cat head?) We talked about how leaves change color each fall and why they fall from their branches. We brainstormed art projects Caroline could try with leaves. It turned out to be a nifty little impromptu science lesson. Sort of. Dawit really just wanted to throw rocks.

Anyone care to identify these? Anyone? Anyone?

These are the easy ones. Next trip, we're going to take our Field Guide to Southern Trees (or whatever it's called) and branch out, so to speak, to some harder-to-identify ones.

PS. That little round fella is a geode we found.

Fishin' at sunrise

2011-10-16T13:13:00.000-05:00

I miss you in Nashville

2011-10-06T19:50:00.001-05:00

Dawit came with me to Nashville this week to visit his Nana. He always tells me, "I miss you in Nashville." It breaks my heart in two. So we decided this would be a good week for him to join me there.

Yesterday I took him to Gojo, the best Ethiopian restaurant in the city. We celebrated Dawit's first birthday there. Ahmed, the owner, loves Dawit and always speaks to him in Amharic, which causes guilt to course through my veins for not working harder to learn the language and share it with Dawit. (Getting the tapes are on my to-do list.) So Ahmed says something to Dawit and Dawit says "yes." I looked at Ahmed, and he said, "I asked if he would like to come with me." So he asked again in English and Dawit took his hand and headed to the kitchen -- a place I've never been but would love to see in action.

A few minutes later, Dawit comes strolling back to the dining room talking on a cell phone. I hear him say things like, "Hop on Thomas" and "Thomas and Percy and Edward." Thomas the Tank Engine, of course, because that's his favorite -- and pretty much only -- subject. He eventually says "Bye" and hands me the phone. It was Ahmed's wife who wasn't working that day and was very sorry to miss D. I translate all of Dawit's jabbering for her and promise to bring him back soon.

As we're leaving, Ahmed invites Dawit to come spend the day with his family some weekend. He has children for Dawit to play with. Other than Ahmed's wife, I've only met his niece so I'm excited to meet more of his family and hang out. We chat about him being unable to go back to Ethiopia because of the restaurant. If he does go, he'd have to leave Shemsia behind or vice versa. It makes me sad. It makes me want to offer to run the restaurant so they can go together. I know they miss their country. And their families. And their own traditions. And their language. I hope they can make it happen. They're such wonderful people.

The restaurant was crowded at lunch. I love to see it crowded. And to watch the people try to figure out the eating protocol. But this day, people seemed to already know, which means they're likely regulars. And that's cool.

When we got back home after 3 days in Nashville, Dawit says to me, "I miss you in Nashville."

WW: Second harvest

2011-09-14T18:12:00.000-05:00

Today, she is...

2011-09-12T08:11:00.000-05:00

We've come a long way since...

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

and FOUR!

We love you, Sweet Caroline! Happy 5.

Schoolgirl and little brother

2011-09-09T12:01:00.002-05:00

Upsy daisy

2011-07-27T10:22:00.000-05:00

Sharing the love

2011-07-21T18:30:00.004-05:00

Ever since I married Spence and moved to Roaring River Valley, we both talk nonstop about how to share its wondrousness with our friends. Even after 7 years there, I still love driving the tar-and-chip road upriver toward our farm under a long canopy of trees. I still walk to the barn on misty evenings to call in the horses and marvel at the peaceful, nestled feeling of being surrounded on all sides by steep soaring mountains. (I know they're probably hills by definition, but still, they're big). Sometimes I daydream that I'll quit my job, we'll go off the grid, blow up the TV and just hibernate for the rest of our lives in our little green haven on the river. It just feels like a safe place to hide away from an increasingly chaotic world. I also sometimes look up at the ridge towering over our house and expect to see a fierce line of warriors emerge on horses. (That's probably watching Dances With Wolves too many times.)

I feel okay about bragging on the beauty of our homestead because I really had nothing to do with it -- I simply married a pretty great guy who had the guts to build a home far, far from a grocery store. As such, we don't get many visitors. That is, unless we lure them out under the pretense of seeing something "purdy."

And boy, have we got it -- the surrounding rivers and streams and hollers and mountain tops (hill tops!) are simply as stunning as Middle Tennessee gets. But these are not the places you see by stepping out of your car and strolling a few steps. As blogamiga Julia put it, Inman Adventures are not for the faint of heart. To witness the good stuff you gotta work a little. Or a lot.

After one such "sharing the love" adventure, one of my friends jokingly created the Inman Adventures Difficulty Scale, which is based on a special LOG-arithm (how many life-threatening log strainers in a river will you have to portage?). This particular excursion was a 9 on the scale.

Last weekend was a 3-4 on the IADS. We invited two amazing blogamigas and their families to come out and see the spectacularity that is Roaring River Gorge. This is the river that runs beside our house, but about 10 miles upstream where the rock walls soar hundreds of feet above your head. The kids we toted ranged in age from 2 to almost 11 (or maybe exactly 11). We waded about a 1/2 mile, anywhere from ankle to hip deep, to a great swimming hole, where the two oldest and most exuberant boys gave me repeated heart attacks as they slid down chutes and leapt into swift water. Spence, who thankfully is a mountain goat, had to hoof it after them, giving them a multitude of safety tips, while those of us with toddlers hanging off our arms picked our way over boulders, poison ivy and very slick river rock.

Theresa's pictures tell the story best. She was our official photographer and I'm coveting her camera...and talent. We had only one loss: 3-year-old O's very nice sandal went floating downstream. (The river giveth and the river taketh away.)

While the river adventure was fun, the real love occurred back at the house over beer, sangria and Ethiopian fare. Julia graciously made misr wat (lentils) and I tried my hand at a vegetarian version of doro wat (chicken stew) with tofu. The kids explored every cranny of the house (eek!) playing hide and seek, a couple of lucky ones got to meet and greet the horses and even scoop some poop. And one daring soul dangled from the monkey bars, patiently and silently waiting for an adult to gently help her down (O, you know who you are!). Later, the girls (and one boy who will remain nameless) had a princess dress-up party. Although I'm dying to share it, I am saving that picture for future leverage.

While the six kids ravaged the indoors, we grown-ups got a rare few minutes of peace to sit on the front porch swings and talk about parenthood. It was like therapy for Spence, who as a SAHD doesn't get as many opportunities to learn from and trade ideas with other parents. We discussed education, discipline, sibling rivalry, gender differences, the diversity limits of living in a very rural area, and whether or not it's cool for your 2-year-old son to dress up like a princess (it is!). After everyone left, Spence couldn't stop talking about how comforting and validating it was to learn that the challenges he experiences every day are normal and not some byproduct of terrible parenting.

I am so dang lucky to know these amazing gals AND their families. They're so beautiful and hilarious and fun and wise. And I'm not worthy!

Here are a few pics to supplement Theresa's awesome ones. In case you didn't look the first time, go now, you'll be glad you did.

Very exuberant boys about to embark on a river adventure

Very wet and slightly less exuberant boys

Three blogamigas on the rocks (caption courtesy of Theresa)

Buds

The long walk home

Wading and swimming

Rosemary shows off her driftwood creation

D and O loving the mud

What a beautiful day.

WW - planning some squirrel stew

2011-07-06T13:55:00.002-05:00

Wordless Wednesday - fishin' with Daddy

2011-06-29T07:24:00.000-05:00

Better

2011-06-26T14:35:00.000-05:00

My back is better. It still looks like a hickey fest, but it's much better. Was it the acupuncture and cupping? I think so, but I don't know for sure. Just like I don't know for sure my bed was the culprit.

I've always wanted to believe alternative and holistic therapies are superior to traditional medicine that tends to take the form of a pill. Something that gets to the root of the problem, not just cover it up. But honestly, I think it takes a combination of all that. For 3 weeks I took 2400 mg of ibuprofen a day just to function. After that I decided to tackle it from all angles: better bed, more stretching, ab exercises, massage, and in 3 more weeks another acupuncture session. I'm not sure what bag of tricks she'll pull out next time, but I'm going for it.

Maybe I'll become an advocate of cupping and recommend it to everyone. Yes, you can handle it.

My tangle with an octopus

2011-06-21T21:20:00.000-05:00

So I have been experiencing lower back pain off and on for about 6 or 18 months, I can't really remember how long. It was mostly characterized by standing up from my desk, feeling the grab, then slowly easing my way to the upright position. No prob. I figured it was just another lovely side effect of turning 40-something (like the day I miraculously discovered that reading glasses make reading a whole lot better).

But about a month ago, I went down. For about 3 weeks I creaked around the house clutching my back like an old lady. It took many minutes to get into or out of bed, into or out of my car. I finally realized why every other cable channel is dedicated to beating back pain -- it sucks.

I finally went to my doc. She did an x-ray, told me my bed was to blame and gave me some muscle relaxers. I stripped the memory foam pad off my bed at home, and moved to the other side of my pillow-top mattress (a big no-no according to my doc) in Nashville (where I stay 2 nights a week), and once the pain meds allowed me to move semi normal again, I got a deep tissue massage. It was good. But not the miracle I was hoping for. So I scheduled an appointment with my acupuncturist. I've seen her before for other stuff, and I like her style.

She did her usual history, pulse, tongue examination, then asked me to bend all directions. Then she put me on my stomach with my face in a hole the size of a large lemon -- this is going to be fun -- and placed all the needles. They usually don't hurt, but the one she placed behind my knee hurt like a %$^$#@#. As she wiggled it around, she apologized, "Sorry, it necessary. Connected to back." Then she says, "Okay, you sleep." Um, I don't think so.

She returned 45 minutes later and reprimanded me for turning my head to the side (I explained that the lemon-size hole made my nose close up and when I breathed through my mouth I drooled on the floor), then plucked out all the needles. That's usually the end of the session. NOT this time.

For the next 10 minutes, she put my deep tissue massage therapist to shame. She dug a hole and buried him in the yard. This woman is about 4'10'', just a whisper of a woman, but she had hands of steel. At one point she was on completely on the table straddling me. She might have even hung from some hooks on the ceiling and tap danced.

Then she said, "I do a little cupping. It might hurt." I have NO idea what cupping is. I pictured her rolling a cup around on my back. Or pressing the rim down like she's cutting out cookies. Being face-down, I couldn't see the contraptions of torture. I'm scared, but my dad (or somebody) taught me to suck it up, so I did. Caroline perhaps described it best: It's like going to the ocean and being grabbed by an octopus. First she cranked on one suction device, then a second. After the second was in place, she released the first. So 10 seconds or so. It was unpleasant.

I knew our time was almost up, so I figured I could endure whatever she threw at me so I kept quiet. Then she said, "You perfect. I have men come in here and scream, 'Ohhhhh, that hurts!' You don't make peep." Yeah, well, my first epidural didn't take. I can handle this.

So a few minutes later she sends me on my way, feeling very loose and kneaded. She adds as I'm walking out the door, "Sometime you need a little torture to feel better." Ain't it the truth.

So after work, I zip to my mom's for a quick visit with Caroline. As I'm leaving I say, "Hey, do I have any bruises on my back?" I lift my shirt and she gasps.

The end.

A procrastinator's day in photos 2011

2011-06-12T15:10:00.001-05:00

If I had to title this day, it would be "No-Adventure Saturday." Usually at least one weekend day is spent on some kind of family adventure: paddling, swimming, fishing, wading, camping, etc. But occasionally it's necessary to stay home and bring order back to our lives. This is one of those Saturdays.

7ish: Watching Super Why on PBS. They were quiet for so long, I came in to investigate and found a most unusual scene: sharing daddy's chair. No elbowing, pinching or bickering. It warmed my heart and finally inspired me to document our day in pictures.

8ish: Breakfast of cinnamon toast and Cheerios. Once again, no one attempting to poke the other's eye. Makes a mama proud.

9ish: So begins the attempt to curb the chaos, bring the entropy under control.

Also 9ish: Outside chores continue with Spence hard at work since 6a. I was not up yet to document it. Numerous times floods have taken out our fence and numerous times Spence has rebuilt it. Now we're employing a new strategy of widely spacing the posts to cut down on debris snags when the river floods. The government is paying us to do this. Weird, huh?

10ish: Playing outside. You might notice that C always seems to be in PJs. She pretty much would live in them if I'd let her.

11ish: Lunch! I don't routinely feed my kids Lunchables. We bought them for taking on river trips, but if the kids spot them in the frig they're history. Note C's runner-up wardrobe of choice: nothing.

Early afternoon: (I missed a few hours taking a nap.) Spence continues his field chores. Bushhogging is usually a twice-a-year commitment. It sure makes our fields look nicer.

3p: Dawit helps wash Mama's car, then continues to wet down the entire front yard and porch while I prep dinner inside. Luckily I've got big windows in the kitchen so I can see who's spraying who and intervene as necessary.

5ish: Prepping veggie fried rice with all the appropriate accoutrements: beer and the company of a talented artiste. And yes, I use jarred garlic! Sue me.

6ish: I finally take the yucky bucket to the compost bin. I don't know why I resist this chore so much. I usually end up with fruit flies and some disgusting smell in my house before I make the run.

Green pepper!

Deer stay out! Floods too.

I come back in from the garden to find this lovely painting on the kitchen counter. How many times have I preached: only on paper! I guess the world is her canvas.

7ish: After dinner, a little Curious George so mom and dad can wrap up barn chores.

Hauling...

...and scooping poop. A never-ending job.

Skip coming in for dinner, a little slower than usual thanks to the 90-degree weather.

And Delilah bringing up the rear, kind of like I did on posting our Day in Photos 2011. Her pokiness cost her her sweet feed tonight as Skip helped himself.

It probably appears as if I have a sweet deal in this chores thing. Spence kind of looks like he's serving a life sentence of hard labor. It's true. After the weekend when I return to work, he continues his superman status as stay-at-home dad. And let me tell you, chasing our two whippersnappers around all week makes hauling poop, hogging bushes and building fences seem like a day at the beach. I'm a lucky girl.

Very random BBB

2011-06-06T20:08:00.001-05:00

I'm not sure who coined the phrase Bad Blogger Bullets, but since I stole it from Rebekah, I'll give her the credit.

I'm very apathetic about blogs (both writing and reading them) lately. Maybe it's a cycle everyone goes through at some point. I'm grateful for Facebook because its bullety nature syncs well with my short attention span.
I love my blog buddies and feel certain I'll come back into the circle of love someday. I hate that I can no longer get my deep, introspective thoughts out on paper. Probably for the same reason it takes me 3 days to watch a Netflix movie: kids demanding my attention, chores, work, travel, stuff to do, more stuff to do, etc.
Caroline is in summer school. Our county got a grant allowing her school to have a free two-week program on oceanography. When we arrive at school, each child has to sign in at the front door. This morning a long line formed behind us because C insisted on writing her own name, putting 2 inches of space between each letter and having to write down the side of the page.
Dawit is talking in complete, semi-comprehensible sentences. Some of his favorite phrases: Hit quay (push play on the DVD player). On go ribber? (Are we going to the river?) Morn chicken, quease (more fish, please). I not stinky (that one's pretty clear). Zat Sarah, Nynine? (Is this creature on my PJs a triceratops, Caroline?)
Caroline used to call herself Nynine (99) when she was learning to talk, so we figured Nynine would be easier for Dawit to say as he's learning to talk. Now I fear he'll never call her anything else.
I just ate a whole California Pizza Kitchen margherita pizza.
I left my Droid sitting on the burner while I cooked my pizza, the one with the exhaust spout. When I went to pick it up, it was almost too hot to hold. Now it won't turn on. I'm going to wait for it to cool down then try again. Do you think my warranty will cover that? I've gotten the lecture from Spence more than once about setting things on burners even when you're not using the stove. For the most part I've heeded that warning, plastic collander notwithstanding. But in this case my black phone blended in with the black burner.
I love garlic salt.
I love salt on watermelon.
I've been dealing with unusual back pain for about 11 days now. Three of those days I spent worrying that I might have cancer. When you google back pain, it brings up stories of people whose doctors told them it was musculo-skeletal only to find out months later they had lymphoma or ovarian cancer. So I went to my doc and she said musculo-skeletal. When I mentioned being worried about cancer, she laughed at me. The good kind of laugh, like "Dear, quit torturing yourself with random google searches. You don't have cancer." If she says so, I guess. Apparently, I'm getting old and sleep on a crappy bed. A $1,500 pillow-top piece of crap is how she put it. Now I'm trying to figure out how to get rid of a $1,500 pillow-top mattress with several enormous pee stains (not mine -- my cat's and Caroline's). If I put it on craigslist for free, I'd probably be inviting trouble because I'm certain only crazies would want a free pee-stained bed. Gotta think on that one.
I truly empathize with people who have back pain and spasms that feel like someone's wringing out your muscles like a washcloth. It's truly crippling and depressing. And maybe why I ate an entire pizza.
My phone works -- I just got a call.
I haven't forgotten about "A Day in Pictures." I can't seem to remember to get started in the morning. And when I do capture the morning, I forget to document the rest of the day. I contemplated cheating and creating my own picture perfect day by piecing together pics from different days, but then that would be cheating.
After one year and 3 days, the bridge to our house is finally open. No more 2-hour commutes to take Caroline to school and pick her up (30 minutes each way, twice a day). The first day I crossed the new bridge, I stopped, got out of my car and did a little jig. Joy!

WW - chores

2011-06-01T20:37:00.000-05:00

WW - hug

2011-05-18T20:44:00.000-05:00

Class of 2023, here we come

2011-05-17T20:18:00.020-05:00

My baby graduated pre-K! In two blinks I'll be watching her give her valedictorian speech to the class of 2023 and thinking about the day she sang the ABC's with her two pre-K buds.

Second from the right:

Our best shot at a family pic:

Little Miss Cool Cat:

Caroline and Carmen:

Caroline and Wyatt. See that little twinkle in her eye? See his Kool-Aid mustache?

Caroline and her fabulous teachers Ms. Denise and Ms. Faith:

Seven years

2011-05-09T21:33:00.000-05:00

Seven years and eight days ago, I married this cutie. Every year since, on the first weekend of May, we embark on a precious two-day getaway to ~~celebrate another successful year of marriage~~ have a few hours of uninterrupted adult conversation. Of course those conversations pretty much always revolve around the kids, and we spend a good bit of time missing them terribly.

First, Nana arrives at Casa de Inman, and we head to our favorite river: the Tellico.

We get dressed in our outdoor finery:

Then I spend the next 3 hours white knuckling the T-grip with a silly grin:

After our float, we check into our luxury accommodations:

And enjoy our dinner by candlelight:

It just doesn't get any better than this.

Mesaye, my son

2011-04-12T08:37:00.000-05:00

A few days ago I got a letter from one of the children we sponsor in Addis. Mesaye. We get a letter from him every three months or so and he always updates us on how well he's doing in school. This letter proudly reported he's first in his class in school...and that his mother had just died. That news, although it wasn't completely unexpected, made my limbs go all hot like they do when you get some horrifying news that your brain can't fully process.

We started sponsoring Mesaye about 2-1/2 years ago when he was 15 and we were still in the adoption process. Meeting Mesaye and his precocious younger brother, Anwar, was one of the highlights of our trip when we traveled to pick up Dawit. We had gone out with a driver early in the day and as we returned to our guest house compound, Spence spotted Mesaye standing on the street amid a sea of unfamiliar people. He was so overcome with emotion at seeing the face of this boy whose picture had hung on our frig for 2 years, I thought he was going to lose it. We spent a few hours with him and his brother. We laughed and talked through an interpreter. It was silly and wonderful and awkward and heartbreaking. I wanted to ask a million questions about his life and his situation and his hopes and dreams, but we mostly kept it light. We did not get to meet his mom (in hindsight I wished we'd arranged this), but after our trip he kept us up to date on her. She had HIV, so we knew that Mesaye would likely be on his own soon. Each time we got a letter, I prayed she would be okay. That Mesaye would have a little more time with her. Time to be a kid. To be a big brother.

He's 17 now and, though his days of truly being a kid ended a long time ago because of his mother's illness, his childhood is over. Mesaye is the head of a child-headed family. He is his brother's sole caregiver. He is one of 20 child-headed families in the Yezelalem Minch program. And one of who-knows-how-many in Ethiopia.

I know this is reality for many Ethiopian children. I know Mesaye had been preparing. I know he's a strong, smart, resilient kid with a beautiful outlook on life. But my heart breaks for him and his brother. 17 is too young to be in charge of life...and someone else's life.

Now I have a million questions. Will they stay where they're living? Will he be able to continue school? Will he have to work? Does he shop, cook, clean and do all those household chores that keep life marching on? Had he already been doing those things because his mom was sick? Does he have extended family to help? Does he feel alone? Does he have someone to hold him while he grieves for his mother? Will he stay in the YM sponsorship program? If so, how long? What happens now? What can I do?

I'm at a crossroads in my relationship with Ethiopia. The desire to adopt led me there, but my love for the people will keep me forever connected to my son's birth country.

Dawit is here because he did not have the option to stay. Mesaye's life is in Ethiopia and always will be. He has fared better than many others living in poverty in Ethiopia because he had a program like YM that gave him a chance to go to school and excel, and to be a kid for a bit longer than his life otherwise would have allowed.

Mesaye and children like him who have the rare opportunity to go to school are the future of Ethiopia. They desperately need programs like YM because it's often the only chance they have to rise above a life of poverty and desperation. And even with programs like YM, life is not easy.

Mesaye may not be coming home with me, but he is my son. Maybe you have a son or daughter in Ethiopia too.

Why our discipline approach might need some work

2011-04-07T18:33:00.001-05:00

A little context: Caroline's favorite color is currently red.

So we're taking care of our neighbors' donkeys while they're out of town for a few days. Each day, Spence has been trekking the kids across the street and up the hill to feed and water them. As he was finishing the job one day, Caroline turned and dashed down the hill and across the street -- not a busy street, mind you, but one that gets all manner of speeding rednecks.

Spence finally caught up with her in our driveway and asked if she'd stopped and looked both ways. When she said "no" and then saw the look on his face, she quickly changed her story to "yes." He then proceeded to explain to her in rather graphic detail what might happen if she got hit by a car, thinking it might be impactful enough to make her more careful next time. She listened intently and replied, "But Daddy, my red blood would look so pretty and shiny on the road!"

Oh my.

Giddy up!

2011-03-20T08:47:00.000-05:00

William Tell

2011-03-17T17:53:00.000-05:00

Waking up sad

2011-03-14T16:01:00.001-05:00

When Dawit first came home and for approximately a year after, bonding with him was our top priority. Surprisingly, it was easy. He slept, woke, ate and pooped like a 7-month-old. He liked to be close to us, but he was curious and independent. He hit milestones just like we would have expected with a child who had been with us from birth. His health is extraordinary. In fact, he's had exactly 2 sinus infections in just under 2 years. He's never thrown up except the time he poked a pen down his throat. He's happy, silly, tough, loving and all boy. He's always got a bruise or a gash somewhere on his body because he's not afraid to try anything his big sister does.

We feel safe -- and fortunate -- in saying he's very attached.

But there's one thing. A mystery.

Sometimes, not always, he wakes from his nap very unhappy. He usually comes downstairs quietly, then gets upset. Sometimes he stands and cries; other times he just whines. Nothing can console him for at least 15 minutes. He doesn't want toys, food, drink, television, books, being held, being touched, or being looked at. He also doesn't want to be alone.

Over time, I've tried every possible combination of comfort with varying degrees of success. It's very hard to watch him suffer and do nothing. But I've learned that the less I do, the quicker he gets back to his usual toddler routine. Here's what I do:

I usually start by asking if he wants milk or a snack as this is our post-nap routine. If he says no and begins to get upset, I sit on the floor near him, cross-legged so I have a ready lap if he wants it. I don't look at him or talk to him. I don't sing or entertain myself with any busy work as this also upsets him. I just sit quietly. It's hard to do. Especially when he continues to cry and sound frustrated. To an outsider, it might seem heartless not to attempt to comfort him, but I've learned what he doesn't want. Sometimes he'll come to me and sit, and we'll sit together as long as he likes. I always let him make the first move to stand up or talk. Other times, he'll snap out of it and start playing (especially if Caroline is around) or come to me and make a request. But in those moments I let him take the lead, work through it at his own pace.

We've speculated some about why waking up from naps triggers these emotions. We have theories, but we don't know with all certainty whether they relate to loss or are just disorientation that often comes after a nap. Mostly we just concentrate on helping him feel safe. As time goes on, we'll see how it goes. We will be aware of changes -- good or bad -- that signal new ways of processing his loss and maybe change our tack or hit the books for more professional advice. For now, we're basking in the joy this sweet little boy has brought to our family.

We know that on the adoption adjustment scale, ours went as easy as one could hope for, and we're infinitely thankful. But we won't take it for granted that adjusting and bonding and attaching and learning and loving is a lifetime process, and we'll do whatever it takes.

The list

2011-03-12T13:45:00.000-06:00

Last night Caroline and I made a list of the things we want to do this weekend:

1. Make a get well card for Wendell. Done.
2. Wash mama's car.
3. Play nice with kitty. Done, although someone got a swipe because the kitty didn't think it was nice enough.
4. Walk on the trail and eat treats. Done.
5. Sleep well before school and not be late.
6. Read books before bed. Done.
7. Make chicken tortilla soup. Done.
8. Make bowtie pasta.
9. Make pimento cheese. Done.

We've been adding to the list as the day goes on:

10. Get Caroline's backpack that she left on the trail.
11. Go to the park if we take a good nap.
12. Get some chicken broth for the bowtie pasta.
13. Paint Caroline's fingernails 3 different colors.
14. Have "time in" where we talk about the safety C is studying at school.
15. Watch Thomas. Guess whose request that one was?

What kids can do

2011-03-05T15:11:00.000-06:00

Spence and I have wimped out lately on hiking with the kids. With one at 35 pounds and one pushing 40, we're approaching that no-man's land of too heavy to carry, too slow and whiny to walk. But cabin fever got the best of us and we ventured to Big South Fork two weekends ago...we feared against our better judgment.

Once we got there it took about hour to prep (pee, put on layers, put on boots, pack diapers and lunch, dig snacks back out of the pack because "we're hungry", adjust straps, find trekking poles, load everyone up) and head off.

Five minutes down the trail, we stopped to do this because somebody pooped.

Another somebody melted down because we were walking too fast. By the time we got reloaded, we each had a somebody screaming in our ear. But we pushed on, until...

Silence

And lunch always makes it better

After lunch we tried letting everyone walk

Stopping to throw stones...

And cross creeks

And walk on logs

Until Dawit designated himself hike leader. He hoofed it like nobody's business

Occasionally he got off course and took a tumble

Trying a little bouldering with dad's help...

...and without

We start 'em early in this family

By trip's end, Dawit had hiked more than a mile on his own, and Caroline more than 2 miles -- and a good bit of that in wet shoes as we had to ford a creek about 20 times. We were proud as punch at the oomph these kiddos showed. And we look forward to subjecting them to even more ~~suffering~~ adventures this spring.

Since this trip, Dawit has hiked 2/3 of the trail at our farm -- about 2 miles. That boy's going to be running circles around us soon. Spence is already planning a boys' backpacking trip.

River and rock

2011-03-01T05:25:00.001-06:00

This weekend Spence and I got a little taste of our pre-baby days, our extreme weekends. It's not often the stars line up so beautifully. Granted we didn't experience these adventures together but instead did a swift kid swap so Saturday was mine and Sunday was his. I did not get any pictures of my climbing trip to Black Mountain, which was fun and challenging, and the weather was spectacular. But this slideshow of Spence's day totally makes up for it. I know, videos on blogs suck, but this one is cool. The day was misty and overcast and it made for stunning pictures of two gorgeous gorges that are right in our back yard. Spence is not in the photos because he was the photographer.

Sometimes we get bummed that we can't do these trips together very often. It's kind of like being divorced (with the kid swap) but still in love. But we'll keep it up 'til the kids get old enough to be dragged along on our adventures. Maybe this spring...

Caroline and Daddy go to the Ball

2011-02-27T08:45:00.000-06:00

Last night was the Cinderella Ball for daddies and daughters. Spence donned a suit, perhaps for the first time since our wedding, and Caroline wore a white spring dress she picked out herself. Some of these pics Caroline took and I couldn't resist including them (see the backside of someone else's dad). Later when she got home, I asked her what they had for dinner and she said all kinds of good things -- cheese, crackers, grapes, strawberries, triangle sandwiches, and those little black round things that Allison makes me put my fingers in (black olives). It was an enchanting evening for a young lady.

Open wide!

2011-02-24T20:15:00.000-06:00

No prob.

Caroline says...

2011-02-21T16:16:00.000-06:00

I'm having trouble getting motivated to write posts, but I'm never short on Caroline's unique world perspectives.

On the way home from a day-long hike yesterday, C was complaining that we drove through McDonald's (for a post-hike treat) instead of going in. I said, "We have to get home. It's almost dinner time." She replied, "I don't want dinner. I just want to poop."

Caroline and I were listening to Patsy Cline on YouTube while she painted valentine art. As Patsy was concluding "Crazy," Caroline pointed to her nesting yellow hearts and said, "I'm calling this Loving You." I praised her creativity and hung it on the pantry door. She then proceeded to paint two more nesting yellow hearts but apparently made an errant stroke (which I couldn't see). She threw down her brush and said, "I'm calling this one Loving Nobody!"

Ah, perfectionism.

Need hair advice

2011-02-03T10:59:00.000-06:00

Attention: mamas of Ethiopian boys, especially those with big fluffy curls! Do you have hair products you love?

I'm looking for a really good leave-in conditioner. One to use right after shampooing while his hair is wet -- not necessarily a light, daily conditioner, but something I use once or twice a week. Dawit has big soft curls and the product we've been using is good, but it does have a tiny bit of alcohol, so I want to find something more natural.

I bought Tiny Twirls shampoo and daily moisturizing styler, which is made by Kinky Curly, but they didn't have a leave-in conditioner at the store. I know there are some good websites out there with tons of great products; it's just hard to figure out which are the best, especially for boys who have a simpler routine than girls. I'm hoping for some recommendations from moms who are happy with their products.

Simple sweet potatoes

2011-01-23T14:36:00.000-06:00

I remember back in grad school eating lunch with a friend who ordered a plain sweet potato. I asked him, What's up with that? And he said, I'm trying to appreciate the real flavor of food. No butter, no salt, no brown sugar. I never forgot the sentiment, although I don't quite live up to his example. I do, however, always keep a big bowl of sweet potatoes in my kitchen. They often become lunch, snack or even dessert.

These recipes aren't going to win any culinary awards, but they're oh so easy:

Simply baked
Scrub and pierce your sweets with a fork several times.
Stick in 400-degree oven for 30 min. No foil, except maybe under them to catch drippings.
After 30 min., turn off oven and leave potatoes in for an hour or more. This is the key; it brings out the natural sweetness and makes the texture incredibly smooth.
If you're cool as Claude, mash with a fork and enjoy. If you're less cool like me, drizzle with honey and sprinkle with cinnamon.

Simple sweet and salty fries
Scrub, cut off ends, then cut potato in half.
Cut into 1/2-wide sticks, leaving skin on.
Arrange on cookie sheet, brush with olive oil and sprinkle with sea salt and dried rosemary.
Bake at 400 for 20 minutes. No need to turn.

'Shrooms

2011-01-21T16:02:00.000-06:00

Continuing recipes from the Top 30 list referenced in this post.

Grilled Portobello caps

This is a favorite standby at our house and makes a wonderful meatless entree.

1/2 cup finely chopped red bell pepper

1 clove garlic, minced

1/4 cup olive oil

1/4 teaspoon onion powder

1 teaspoon salt (I use less)

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

4 portobello mushroom caps

Preheat grill for medium heat. In bowl, mix red bell pepper, garlic, oil, onion powder, salt and pepper. Spread mixture over gill side of the mushroom caps. Lightly oil the grill grate. Place mushrooms over indirect heat, cover and cook for 15 to 20 minutes. (I also bake in oven on 375 degrees.) Sprinkle with balsalmic vinegar and blue cheese, and serve.

Mushroom Barley soup

2 T. extra virgin olive oil

1/2 cup each of chopped onions, carrots, celery, celery leaves

3 cups sliced mushrooms (use different varieties for richer flavor)

5 cups water

1/2 cup barley, uncooked

4 T. instant veggie broth mix

1/8 tsp. garlic powder

salt/pepper to taste

Heat oil in large pot. Add veggies and cook 5 min, stirring frequently. Add remaining ingredients and bring to boil. Cover, reduce heat to low, simmer for at least an hour.

Zen eating

2011-01-20T15:20:00.001-06:00

Late last year I decided to try to drop 10 pounds and hopefully ward off the impending need to buy a slightly bigger wardrobe. My plan: to eat healthier and exercise more. A novel concept, I know. I've been planning this endeavor for exactly 4 years and 3 months -- ever since Caroline was born and my body decided to take a different road from my mind.

So January 2 was the day. I was coming off of a nasty stomach virus that gave me about a 3-pound jump on my goal. Plus, it zapped my appetite for a while longer, enabling me to ease into a key component of my fit-into-my-jeans-by-spring strategy: the eatin' healthy part.

In a nutshell, I'm eating less carbs and sugar, more fresh foods. In case you're wondering what that means exactly, I'm eating no pasta or baked carbs like bagels, crackers or chips, less bread although I'll still eat a sandwich occasionally on whole wheat bread. No sugary desserts except small amounts of dark chocolate. No fruit teas or colas. No mindless snacking or grazing. All meals and snacks are deliberate and written down. Including the Krispy Kreme donut I accidently inhaled yesterday. I just threw that in there in case you were getting too impressed.

A couple of days ago, my blog buddy (and real-life friend, I'm now happy to say) posted this about the 30 Healthiest Foods in Real Simple magazine. I flipped out because I love nearly all of these foods and cook with them regularly. Okay, in case you're too ADHD to click the links, here are the foods in the list, although I encourage you to click the link because RS includes a simple recipe and a more involved one for each food. Plus, they tell you the nutritional benefit of each. Here goes: mushrooms, barley, walnuts, whole grain pasta, peanut and almond butters, old-fashioned or steel-cut oatmeal, quinoa, skim milk, almonds, lentils, blueberries, bulgur, eggs, sardines (this one I can do without!), spinach, kiwi, wild salmon, extra virgin olive oil, chicken breast, kale, avocado, kidney beans, sweet potatoes, chard, edamame, pumpkins, oranges, nonfat greek yogurt, broccoli, black beans.

Aren't these great? I don't think RS's list is some great revelation. I've been reading nutritional literature for years and many of these foods consistently make the top-foods lists. So I suppose I've finally internalized the information and started making these foods part of my everyday routine.

I thought it might be fun to share some of my favorite -- and for the most part, easy -- recipes using these foods. I do this in honor of dear Bridget who's exploring her kitchen while she waits on her referral of a little girl from Ethiopia. Get cookin' Bridge, 'cause soon you'll have your hands full with other exciting adventures.

Zen Bowl (easy)
This recipe is hijacked from a wonderful Nashville restaurant that closed a few years ago, and it's incredibly flexible so you can customize to your tastes. It serves 2 adults, 2 kids.

1 cup uncooked brown rice
Cook it using 2.5 cups water

Place in steamer basket in large saucepan with 1/2-inch water:
- Sweet potatoes, cut into 1-inch cubes (I leave peel on)
- Carrots, but into 1-inch lengths
- Mushrooms, halved
- Broccoli florets
- Zucchini or squash in cubes
- Onions, thickly sliced
- Green and red peppers in 1-inch pieces
Cover and steam about 10 minutes, until veggies are cooked but not squishy.

Rinse a can of black beans and heat. In another saucepan, place equal parts butter/margarine and soy sauce/tamari; heat until melted. I use about 3 tablespoons of each.

Place dollop of rice on plate; top with veggies; sprinkle with black beans and drizzle with tamari butter. Sprinkle with a little shredded cheddar, and add hot sauce to taste.

Variations:
Add a handful of fresh spinach to the top of your steam basket.
Add cubed tofu; I usually saute it in soy sauce first
Add or subtract any veggie

Bam! You've got 4-5 of the top foods in one recipe -- 6 if you try this: add some lentils and extra water to your rice. My kids love brown rice, but were wary of a lentil. So on impulse, I added a few to their rice one night and they didn't even notice.

Edited to add: Just read my Zen Eating title on another blog roll and realized it sounds much more deep and philosophical than this post really is. Sorry if you made it this far and feel misled. I have a minor in marketing, so I know how to suck you in with a good headline then really let you down. Like this: Title: How to Lose Weight in Two Easy Steps
Article: Step one: Eat less. Step two: exercise more.

Also, with a kid hanging on each arm every time I sit down, I no longer have time for deep and philosophical. However, I can direct you to several blogs that do that much better than I. If you're in the mood for light summer beach reading, you've come to the right place.

Doro wat recipe

2011-01-16T14:41:00.000-06:00

Here's the recipe I mention in my previous post. It's "borrowed" from someone I can't remember or I would give credit. I've always made it with niter, so I'm not sure if it would be as flavorful with just butter. Enjoy!

Doro Wat (Spicy Chicken Stew)
1½ lb. chicken (I like to use boneless thighs)
1 cup onion (diced)
1 Tbs. Garlic (minced)
2 Tbs. lemon juice

¼ cup butter or niter kebbeh
1 tsp. salt

¾ cup chicken stock or broth
1 tsp. ginger

¼ cup red wine (dry)
½ tsp ground fenugreek

¼ cup berbere (reduce to a couple TBL to lessen spiciness)
½ tsp cardamom

1 tsp paprika
¼ tsp nutmeg

4 eggs (hard boiled)
1 8oz can tomato sauce

Marinate chicken for 1 hour in lemon juice. Remove and pat dry. Brown onions in a pan with little or no oil. Add Niter or butter, stock, wine, tomato sauce and all spices and mix well. Add chicken and cook for 30-40 minutes. If sauce is too thick, add water or stock; if thin, make a rue. Pierce eggs with fork and add to pan. Cook for another 15 minutes.

The doro wat dilemma

2011-01-15T14:56:00.000-06:00

Dawit and I love doro wat. Unsupervised, we can do some serious damage to single recipe in one sitting. Ideally I would temper my indulgence with extra berbere. Heat slows me down. But it doesn't seem right light up my 2-year-old for the sake of portion control. Regardless, I do struggle over how much berbere to use. Once I made it according to the recipe (1/4 cup) for a dinner party of ET food newbies. They all loved it, but I had to hand out do-rags so they could mop their brows. Now I cut the berbere in half (~2T) for guests.

Today I cut it in half again hoping both my kids could handle it. It had a slight bite, but not enough, I guessed, to bring on tears. (Note: I'm not always the best judge of temperature -- food or bath.) So I dished up mostly chicken without the sauce, then turned to fix my own plate. Next thing I know Caroline's running for the bathroom hollering, "Mama, the chicken's spicy. I need water." So I fix her up with some milk and injera and turn to check on Dawit. Not only had he finished all his chicken, he's holding up his plate saying, "More! More chicken." So I transfer Caroline's chicken to his plate and give him a high five. My little man is tough.

Does anyone need some berbere? At this rate, I'll have enough to send some with Dawit to college.

Christmas goes on

2011-01-02T11:51:00.003-06:00

We had a lovely day in Ooltewah with a houseful of seriously excited -- and cupcake buzzed -- kids.

This was before the chaos began. Once the tearing began I was too busy refereeing to snap any pictures.

Birthday girl Sarah Jane, getting a kiss from her Pop:

Then the icing began...

And here's our newest addition Susannah Kate with her mom (and our wonderful hostess) Tara.

Taking down Christmas

2010-12-31T12:27:00.004-06:00

Much to Caroline's dismay, we took down the tree today. I enjoyed taking inventory of her decoration creations. Most notable: a plastic pear, a teacup from her set, a doily, bicycle tassel, a shoe, a coat hanger, a couple hair clips, many individual purple feathers plucked from her boa, and the winner: a half-eaten giant marshmallow.

Chillin'

2010-12-30T18:42:00.001-06:00

All is calm, all is white

2010-12-27T14:04:00.001-06:00

All is calm

2010-12-26T09:58:00.002-06:00

Since we're all snowed in today, plans to visit Chattanooga postponed, I thought I'd share some of the sweeter moments of our Christmas celebrations.

Sweet Nicholas, my nephew:

Angel wings:

Reindeer games:

Kyle showing Dawie how to check out the scores on tv:

Cousins:

When people ask Dawie his name, he now says Thomas:

Princess Caroline in her Fancy Nancy best -- and chocolate kiss evidence on her mouth.

The art of gift receiving

2010-12-24T14:00:00.000-06:00

I did have a moment of pause before deciding to share this mortifying moment from our early family Christmas at my mom's. I'm certain it won't take you long to figure out what's going on here:

Need a hint? First, note the discarded box of clothes. Now check out the expression on Nana's face as she exchanges a glance with Josie, who appears to be sitting next to a box of princess-glitter dominoes.

As mama of the prostrate kid who is indeed not praying but throwing a fit because "clothes are not fun!" what should I have done? Honestly, I was so stunned that my first reaction was to, of course, grab the camera and document the moment for a future blog post. Check. My next impulse, which I only partially stifled, was to burst out laughing. Not because it was funny, but because in that moment every person in that room, all 12 or so, were mentally revoking my parental license. I mean, right? Was this not the quintessential parental failure? Yes, I know, she's 4, but didn't I teach her anything? I hate it when those teachable moments happen in front of the whole world, because you know all those people watching just want to see you jerk a knot in the kid's ungrateful tail. I was just relieved it happened at my mom's and not some extended family member's home. I would most certainly have died on the spot.

Still, for a few moments, everything hinged on how I would respond. So flying totally by the seat of my pants, here's what I did: I called her over and whispered in her ear -- with no anger and no sympathy, just matter of fact -- "Nana loves you and she gave you a present for Christmas. Let's take a look at it." She looked down and saw the cute glittery outline of a butterfly on the front of the pink shirt. I asked, "What do you think?" She said, "It's pretty. " I said, "I know; it looks just like something you like to wear. Now what do we do when someone gives us a nice present?" Then I turned her toward Nana and suggested she thank her for the pretty outfit. She did.

And that was the end of it.

Until we got in the car to go home. And we were without an audience. Then Caroline and I had a lengthy conversation about giving and receiving gifts and what is appropriate and inappropriate behavior. And the art of being grateful and appreciative when every bone in your 4-year-old body wants to cry. She, in true Caroline fashion, tried to negotiate with me about how maybe when she got a little older, she wouldn't cry when someone gave her clothes as a gift. And I realized it'll probably take several conversations for the message to stick.

The conversation came up a couple days later when I pulled out the outfit to put away and she said, "Nana gave that to me." And I said, "Yes, I distinctly remember you opening this one." And she burst out laughing and said, "You said stinkly! Hahaha!"

His eyes

2010-12-20T18:30:00.002-06:00

Dawit had an appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist on Friday. His pediatrician referred him because he failed his routine eye exam at his 2-year visit. When I found out he needed to see a specialist, I was a little freaked out because they pretty much told us nothing about why he was being referred. Before our appointment, I tried to test his vision at home by pulling up all of his favorite trains on the Thomas the Train website. Like a champ, he named 5 or 6 of them with no problem. And Thomas and Gordon look seriously alike, so I was thrilled he could recognize their subtle differences in facial expression. I can't even tell them apart.

Anyway, I didn't find out til we met with the nurse Friday that he'd been referred because they suspected cataracts. I didn't know 2-year-olds got caratacts, but apparently they do. Thankfully, the nurse and the doctor both ruled it out. However, they did a dilated retinal exam and we learned that Dawit is farsighted in his right eye and nearsighted in the left eye and also has an astigmatism. The nearsightedness is more severe and normally would require glasses, but the astigmatism cancels it out, so the two problems currently have little or no effect on his vision. However, the doc said he will most definitely experience vision problems in the future -- maybe in the near future -- and will need glasses. For now we will continue to watch it by having a dilated exam every six months. As he grows and his vision develops, the problems will become more obvious and start affecting his vision, then he'll get glasses.

It's an interesting balance with kids his age. If we fail to treat it promptly, it could lead to a more serious problem called amblyopia (also called lazy eye). Kids' vision fully develops by age 9 and by that time the vision system cannot be changed. So early intervention is vital. But if we introduce glasses too early, before there's a significant difference between his normal vision and glasses-corrected vision, he will likely not respect or want to wear his glasses. So for now we wait.

Twisted traditions part 4

2010-12-13T19:24:00.001-06:00

Caroline loves to paint. So I put her in charge of Christmas cards this year. I'm so proud of her ability to write her name and color outside the lines. In Pre-K!

Waiting for dinner

2010-12-12T19:51:00.002-06:00

Girls' Day Out

2010-12-12T07:50:00.003-06:00

When you live in the sticks, a trip to town is a big deal. For the second time this season, Caroline and I had a girls' day in town. We started with a trip to Kmart to "borrow" their decorations because C wanted to be like Dawie.

Then we met Mama Norma for lunch and to see The Nutcracker performed by the children's theater.

Caroline's friend Sarah was a little angel in the performance.

Smitten!

2010-12-11T07:13:00.004-06:00

These beautiful snowflake mittens were made by my friend Holly.

Aren't they the coziest thing you've ever seen? Just saying "snowflake mittens" makes me all warm and toasty. Within minutes of them arriving in the mail, I put them on and went for a hike. These are the first pair she made in bright red. I asked her to make mine in earth tones, so they are a blend of purple, blue and burgundy.

Check out Holly's other beautiful creations here. Her hats are just gorgeous. The cool thing about Holly is she's such a talented artist, whenever she wants to learn something new she just says, "I think I'll learn to make this, and voila, a week later she's done it. She does it with two precocious girls running around her house (I have two of those and it took me an hour just to write this post!), and all the proceeds from her art go toward their next adoption.

Thank you, Holly! I'm truly smitten.

Twisted traditions part 3

2010-12-07T08:39:00.002-06:00

Last year, my mom and I started a new tradition. Soon after Thanksgiving, before the stores get mobbed with shoppers, we crash a big box retailer -- in this case, Kmart -- and stealthily stage some pictures among their Christmas decorations.

Doesn't D look dapper? The cool sweater is compliments of my bud Julia.

Twisted traditions part 2

2010-12-05T20:34:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, Caroline and I went to the movies to see Tangled. It was her first time. She was in awe of the cavernous theater, the effect of the 3-D glasses and the booming surround sound and let everyone around us know how cool she thought it all was. We clearly don't let her out much. Before that, we had hot chocolate at Poet's, and shopped for her a Christmas outfit and some gifts for her teachers.

We were so on a roll, I figured the perfect way to cap off a Hallmark weekend would be to bake homemade cut-out Christmas cookies together.

Cute, right? Here's kind of how it went: "Wait, don't press down the sifted flour; we want it fluffy! No, you can't lick your finger and stick it in the sugar. Go wash your hands, please. Hold on, don't lift the beater out of the bowl while it's running. No, you can't lick the beater yet. Watch your beads; they're dragging in the flour. No, you can't lick the beater yet. Wait, don't stick your finger in it; we don't touch the food while we're baking. No you can't lick the beater yet!! Ok, watch out his head is coming off. Your icing is dripping down the front of your dress. Really, half the bottle of sprinkles on one cookie? Look, we have all these cookies still to decorate. Forget it; I'll freeze the rest and we'll try this again another day. You wanna watch Barbie?"

It was beautiful.

A few minutes later she decided she'd get dressed and go outside to pet our new stray cat. It was 29 degrees. Have at it, kid.

And this is for Nana, who wanted to see Dawie's new haircut. He was none too happy about the bathtub intrusion and kept shouting, "No cheese! No cheese." Which basically meant, "I'm not smiling. I'm trying to poop."

Which is exactly what he did one minute after I snapped these pictures.

Her own twist on tradition

2010-12-05T09:34:00.010-06:00

Traditionally speaking, decking the halls has always been my bag, try as I might to get the family in the spirit. Spence doesn't mind bringing the decorations down from the attic, but that's pretty much where his involvement ends. I always worried that if I got hit by a bus, no Christmas tree would ever grace our living room again (and no bed sheets would ever be changed again, but that's another story). Not a criticism, just an observation of a man's priorities. Why drag out a bunch of clutter only to have to box it up again in a couple of weeks? is his mindset. It's a perspective I shared with him until we had kids.

I knew that one day the magic of the season would light up my kids' eyes and those traditions would be theirs to carry on. That day was yesterday. Perhaps fueled by Fancy Nancy's enthusiasm for the splendiferous season, Princess Caroline made decorating the tree her mission.

When she ran out of official ornaments, most of them heirlooms from my childhood (that's fancy for things that are old and valuable), she improvised (that's fancy for using whatever's around to make something), adding things like a hair clip, a board book, a feather boa, her dress-up bead necklaces, random ribbons, plastic veggies from her kitchen, pom poms, a harmonica, and a Christmas card she made.

Yep, that's a shoe.

She topped it with her princess crown, which, in my opinion, solidified her ownership of all future hall-decking responsibilities because she never, ever takes off that crown unless she's in the bath or in bed.

She was most proud of her tree, guarding it fiercely from Dawit who made sport out of snagging ornaments off the branches and waving them in her face. Just a little revenge for the torture she regularly subjects him to.

Living life on the edge

2010-11-22T14:11:00.002-06:00

I mean ledge.

Outdoor climbing is about to be sparse with the cooler weather, but yesterday it was 73 degrees. So we headed to the plateau to try out my new sport climbing skills. This was my first outdoor lead.

This is my new friend Jess. She's an amazing climber who grew up out west.

A chair and a cheese stick

2010-11-16T20:43:00.012-06:00

Seven years ago tonight, Spence and I sat side by side before a roaring (gas) fire in his upstairs guest bedroom in an ugly, overstuffed chair that once belonged to his grandmother. I shouldn't criticize the chair as it was a family heirloom (that's fancy for old and valuable) and was about to become the most significant piece of furniture in our 10-month courtship. I wish I had a picture of the chair because it was truly hideous, sporting all the colors of the 70s: avocado, brown, orange and tan. I'm sure it was stylish in its time. Anyway, we sat together in this lovely chair talking about this and that, when Spence suddenly said, "Do you want a cheese stick?" A beer or some popcorn seemed more logical, but I like cheese so I said, "Sure." And he went downstairs and brought back two cheese sticks. Thinking back, it's so funny how obviously nervous he was. He admitted later that he thought a cheese stick would settle the butterflies in his stomach. If I had known what was coming, I would have absorbed every moment, hung on every word. But I didn't. It was more like a fog of sweet words to which I enthusiastically responded, "Yes!" Then moments later I said, "Wait, did you just ask me to marry you?" I couldn't recall there being an actual question, and I worried that I had just jumped the gun and revealed my answer before he asked the question. This is so stupid, but even today I'm still not sure if he asked the question or thinks he asked the question or just made a statement that we should be together forever, but from that moment forward I made a promise to myself to cherish this man and absorb every single moment I have with him. On the outside, I do a terrible job of this. I take for granted all that he is and does. But on the inside (he likes it when girls talk about how they feel inside), I know the gift that God gave me, and my heart doesn't take a second of that for granted -- even if my actions often do.

Let me tell you what I love about my husband. He makes me laugh. He's soft-spoken and gentle, but he can single-handedly blaze a trail through the woods using only hand tools and grit. He's thoughtful and sensitive. If you hurt his feelings, he'll never tell you but he will suffer for days. He's talented. He can sing, write songs, imitate Elvis, fix things, build stuff like barns, pot racks, and porch swings, create beautiful furniture out of barn wood and tin, play guitar, operate heavy machinery, and paddle a canoe in class 4 whitewater (really class 5, but his wife frowns on this). He can spell and write grammatically correct sentences. He can read a book and learn how to do something completely new. He's not afraid to get his hands dirty, delve into tedious projects, or embark on extremely ambitious adventures that most people would think insane. He's incredibly patient with the kids . He's not even scared to take both them with him to the grocery -- or camping for a week! Most important, he was the one who remembered what was special about November 16.

I have no idea how I scored such a perfect husband. I don't deserve him. I'm a lucky girl.

Happy second birthday, Owie!

2010-11-15T01:00:00.003-06:00

Beautiful red hat from neighbor Rose. Dawie likes hats on his own terms.

Some hats make better bugles.

Thomas crocs were a total hit.

Snow White was a bit sullen that she was not the belle of the ball.

Dawie found refuge from a jealous princess between Rose and Mama Norma.

One year ago, we partied big at Gojo:

He thought it was a prayer rug.

Our Gojo friends:

We love you little man.

LOVE

2010-11-14T11:16:00.003-06:00

BACK OFF!

2010-11-10T06:39:00.001-06:00

The Blogamigas are in town!

Bob, Nancy & Bat Girl

2010-10-31T09:55:00.002-05:00

Can we build it? Yeah! Can we fix it? Yeah! My family is so posh... Nananananana...bat girl! Bob the Builder, Fancy Nancy and Bat Girl descended upon Watertown last night and ate up the town.

Being posh, handy and heroic takes a lot of adjustment: picking milk duds out of your teeth...

getting your mask just so...

catching your hat when it falls off...

Fancy Nancy strikes a pose

2010-10-29T09:10:00.000-05:00

The pear

2010-10-27T20:25:00.000-05:00

Dawie smiling, playing, crying, sleeping and doing yoga

2010-10-22T14:54:00.002-05:00

oh yeah, and picking his nose.

How can anyone resist that little grin? I think he's gonna be a yogi too. If you look closely, you'll see downward dog, triangle pose and corpse pose.

Caroline on the move

2010-10-21T11:37:00.001-05:00

Sibs

2010-10-19T19:22:00.002-05:00

You may have to look closely to see them both in all these pics, but they're there.

Big Fun on Big Goat Island

2010-10-18T21:06:00.003-05:00

This is a guest post by Spence, Dad of the Year, about his week-long camping trip during fall break. I've included a smattering of photos, but we have lots more to share, so stay tuned...

I just finished a week-long canoe camping trip at Big Goat Island on Dale Hollow Lake. Joining me were Lori (for one night) and my two sweet young 'uns, Caroline and Dawit. It was heaven! The weather was perfect, the leaves were turning golden and crimson, and everyone had fun. First I want to say a little about Dale Hollow Lake. It's paradise. If you haven't been there, you must see it sometime. It's crystal clear and surrounded by wooded hills and it's loaded with islands. We fished, swam, explored, toasted marshmallows, and ate lots of treats. That's Caroline's favorite part, the treats. She also enjoys stealing Dawit's toy truck, collecting shells, and listening as I read her new favorite book, Frog and Toad are Friends. Storytime was extra fun in the tent, reading by headlamp with my favorite little camping buddies. In fact, time in the tent was perhaps the most fun of all. The kids wrestled around, giggling and squealing. Once they were asleep I read my own books and sneaked extra blankets over them just in case Lori showed up for a surprise inspection. I don't think she's determined enough to get up in the middle of the night, drive an hour to the dock, paddle solo for a mile in the darkness, and crawl commando-style into our camp. She'd simply ask me if I kept them warm and I'm a terrible liar. So I made things pretty cushy for the kids. Not once did Caroline act homesick or want to go home, which I consider a victory. Dawit seemed to have a great time too. He enjoyed roaming the giant rocky beach at camp, attempting to throw each and every rock into the lake. He also threw them into the tent, into his food, and into the canoe. He threw them at me and at Caroline. Then for the grand finale, he sprinkled a handful onto his bottom (and other sensitive areas) as I was trying to change a big poopy diaper. Not a good idea. I already manhandle the diaper chores, wiping quickly and efficiently, always heavy on the elbow grease. The poor fellow was just trying to make it fun. Oh well, live and learn. I learned a few things too. (1) It's easier to get the kids onboard for a change of plan if it involves a snack. Me: "Hey, Caroline. Let's paddle over to that island and eat some granola bars." Caroline: "Yeah!" (2) primitive camping for a week on an island with two small children is very hard work and will make your back ache. (3) I love spending time with these little guys and can't wait to do it again. As I told Lori yesterday, "I wouldn't take a million dollars for that week." It was that good.

Sisters sing

2010-10-17T07:00:00.000-05:00

Norma and Barbara have been singing together since they were young girls.

One more night

2010-10-14T18:38:00.002-05:00

Oh wow, that line brought back memories of making out with Tim McCormack in his yellow sport coupe in the high school parking lot. That song played every 15 minutes on 96 Kiss. Anyway, what was I saying?

Spence and the fam have one more night on Big Goat. From what he said last night, he's rapidly fraying like an old rope but still having a blast. They had to do a unique rendition of Row, Row, Row your Boat in which Spence and Caroline sing every other word but retain the melody. I tell you, Caroline can sing. She never missed a note. I'll post that soon. He also held a little classroom teaching/demonstrating the difference between drinking, sipping and chugging your milk. Anybody need a homeschool lesson idea? There you go.

This issue now is Spence can't sit still, even when he's dog tired. So they set off on island adventures, stay gone all day, then return to camp at sunset. The kids are tired, hungry and cranky, and he can't find anything in the dark. My guess is they're now eating cold Spaghettios straight out of the can.

Tomorrow, they come home. And I have a feeling everybody's going to be changed. Can't wait to post pics...

Lake adventure

2010-10-12T16:52:00.003-05:00

So this is my busy season at work, which is why I didn't shack up with the clan all weekend. But Saturday morn, I drove out to the lake and the crew picked me up in our big blue canoe. We paddled about 30 minutes back to Big Goat Island, where we were the only campers. The site was spectacular with a long sloping shore where the lake had recently been drawn down for the winter rains. It was at the top of the slope in a grove of trees. Pictures are still in our cameras, which are still camping. So, soon...

We unloaded my gear and just did nothing. It was a whole glorious afternoon of nothing. I sat in a camp chair overlooking the lake, watching the kids dig in the mud and throw rocks in the lake, and read a book. Later in the evening, "we" built a fire and cooked dinner of backpacker's freeze dried Pad Thai (kids had spaghettios), followed by toasted marshmallows. Oh yeah, and a couple of Newcastles, which was a major treat.

When we retired, I slept between the kids in one tent and Spence in the other. So, all you people who co-sleep, you're crazy! Both kids have runny noses so that made for an interesting cacophony of snoring. Then I worried about keeping them warm, so every time I turned over, I sat up to recover their bodies, which were turned some weird way or crammed into a different corner. Really, they both slept great. I was the deprived one.

Next morning, we had turkey sausage, freeze-dried eggs and bacon, bagels with cream cheese and coffee. We did some more of nothing until lunch, then braved a swim in the cold water before they ferried me back to the boat dock.

I spoke with Spence twice today, and they're still having a great time. They all bathed in the buff in the lake today and spent some time exploring other islands.

So, yes, it appears they'll make it all week.

Ambitious

2010-10-11T21:31:00.002-05:00

Friday, my husband embarked on an adventure that can only be described as ambitious. (Oh wait, more than one person also described it as crazy, insane, what is he thinking, and will he really make it a week?) It doesn't surprise me much, because Spence regularly bites off more adventure than I can chew.

Because it was fall break for Caroline and I'm working long hours, he loaded up the kids, a week's worth of supplies, gear, clothes and food and headed to Dale Hollow lake to canoe camp in a primitive campsite on an island called Big Goat. His goal: to return home (hopefully sane) next Friday.

With his canoe filled above the gunnels and the kids wedged in there somewhere, he paddled 30+ minutes to the island from the boat dock to set up his mini kiddy city. The only non-motor craft on the lake, he carefully balanced his teetering load over speed boat wakes. From the time he landed Friday afternoon until I arrived at the boat dock Saturday morning for my ferry to the island, he worked non-stop setting up camp and tending to the demands of two always-hungry children. They paddled over and picked me and my overnight bag up about 11a Saturday, and we headed back to the island.

Part 2 coming soon...

Chris surfing on Hiwassee River

2010-10-05T07:35:00.000-05:00

Could it be love?

2010-09-27T21:04:00.005-05:00

This is HUGE. I mean, really. Both smiling in the same pic?

Here it comes. Look out! What will she do? Poke him in the eye? Step on his toes?

Awwww! The beautiful princess does have a heart.

Anyone who knows us knows that Caroline has been lukewarm on Dawit since day one. It was only last weekend she asked if we could trade Dawit for my brother's new baby. But friends, I think we've had a breakthrough. I'm not sure it's love. But I'll take what I can get.

Celebrating Princess Caroline

2010-09-12T20:59:00.001-05:00

Happy birthday, Princess Caroline!

2010-09-12T16:25:00.002-05:00

Today's the big 4! It's been full of beautiful dresses, glass slippers, Barbies, tiaras, pink and purple, magic wands, a few spells, family and friends, an enormous jumping castle, good food, cupcakes and parfaits. Oh, and a few Matchbox cars for you-know-who. We're still running wide open over here, so pictures coming soon...

We love you, sweet Caroline!

Powerful

2010-09-10T18:00:00.001-05:00

Painting the house red

2010-08-26T16:51:00.006-05:00

Sometimes things happen and there's no better therapy than a glass of wine and a good ol' blog-post vent. Sometimes things happen and you wish you'd done a little research ahead of time. So you're prepared. Clearly I wasn't. So if my story will help someone else avoid the freak-out I just lived, I'll have done my good deed of the day.

So I pick up Caroline at pre-K and Ms. Faith hands me an Owie Report (no, it's not about our Dawie Owie). Apparently C had a nosebleed to the point her clothes and socks came home in a baggie. No big deal. We talk about it on the way home, how it's no big deal. Sometimes noses bleed. So I get her settled at home with a snack and not 15 minutes later, she comes flying into the kitchen with blood running down her face. I say, "No big deal. It's okay. We'll get it stopped. Don't worry." I press a rag to her face, then another, then another. And as she's soaking through washcloth after washcloth, she's also gagging because the blood is running down her throat.

But I can't figure out what to do because I can't let go of her nose to call anyone, or look up a phone number to call anyone, or get on the computer and figure out what to do when my baby's nose is a complete freaking faucet!

Finally, I get her to lean over the toilet and drip and spit, and I go grab the phone. Only I have to look all the numbers up in the phone book because who knows numbers in cell phone world. And I can't use the cell phone where I have all the numbers programmed because cell phones don't work in the 18th-century-no-cell-phone-tower-valley I live in. After an eternity the pediatric nurse comes on the phone and tells me to squeeze her nose. Actually I make her yell it because I can't hear her over Caroline's crying. So squeeze. Duh! I'm sure you're all saying, "duh!" But honestly that didn't even occur to me. I was too busy trying to remember if she should lean her head back or tilt forward. So the nurse talks me off the ledge and we hang up.

Then...her nose continues to gush for 16 hours. It seems like 16 hours. Maybe it was only 20 minutes or so. But the whole time I'm thinking I can't drive and hold her nose. Maybe I could put her in the front seat, but wait, Britney got in trouble for that. I should call a neighbor, so I call the only neighbor whose number I know, and she doesn't answer. I start to call my other neighbor, but I'm not sure she'd want to be my neighbor anymore if I make her drive me the 45 minutes to an urgent care center in Cookeville using the very long detour because both bridges downstream and upstream of our houses are OUT. So I resort to calling my father-in-law at work, and he proceeds to talk me off the ledge again. He suggests I might just stay put, add pressure and see what happens in 10 minutes. When he calls back 10 minutes later, her nose has dried up from a gush to a drip, and he reads what he Googled (another thing you can't do when you're holding your child's nose).

In case you ever find yourself living 45 minutes from civilization and your child decides to paint your house with her blood: lean head forward not back, pressure on the bridge of nose at the fleshy point for at least 10 minutes, maybe longer, spit if necessary. Ice and/or 4-hour nose spray can also help shrink the blood vessels. Most important: don't panic. As I said to Caroline 500 times while she was freaking and I was internally freaking: "It's no big deal."

An hour later she's dancing around the house in her underwear singing, "It's no big deal."

Putnam County Fair

2010-08-25T06:34:00.002-05:00

Somebody was in awe of the sights at the fair.

Now this feel more like home (Ethiopia home)...

It's hard to believe this gal gets car sick.

D finally got in on the action with Aunt Allison on the merry-g0-round.

Head above water

2010-08-22T20:45:00.002-05:00

And house too. Water's receded, damage minimal. Spence spent Thurs-Sun working on the farm, repairing the tractor and lawn mower that both took a swim. He set up some de-humidifiers in the crawl space and fixed the water system. He repaired fences and did a million chores that are so much easier when wife and kids are out of sight. Sandbox and compost bin are still missing.

The kids and I hung in Nashville and had a lovely time living the city life. We did a little visiting, playing, eating, thrift shopping and churching. Then I just took the kids back to Cookeville tonight for an exchange with Spence (C has school tomorrow) and turned around and came back to Nashville for another 4 days. Walking back into my toy-strewn house made me very sad.

I'm eager to get back home.

Flood #2 - now with commentary

2010-08-20T06:20:00.003-05:00

When I first saw these pictures this morning, I didn't have any words. Now, I guess the word is thankful. That it didn't get into the house or ruin the AC units or kill our water system under the house or hurt our horses. It sure wouldn't have taken much more to do so. The other word is goodbye - to our garden, compost bin and kids' sandbox, although Spence says good riddance to the latter.

The kids and I are staying in Nashville while Spence cleans it all up and rebuilds the fences...again. The third time in 2 years. Let me add we're by the river but not technically in a flood plain.

There are three stairs here:

The lake

2010-08-15T08:46:00.002-05:00

We start 'em early in this family.

Yesterday, we ventured out to Dale Hollow Lake for a refreshing break from the broiling heat of Tennessee. Beautiful blue bird sky, cool water, energizing breeze, leisurely paddle across the way to a lovely island, lounging in the shade of a sycamore reading a book and watching the kids splash.

Um, let me revise slightly... Relentless sun, nary a cloud, lake like bathwater, dead calm air, humidity enveloping your body like saran wrap, brief stint in the shade followed by a 26.2-mile marathon paddle around the entire lake!

Okay, I exaggerate a bit. I think it was only a 10-mile paddle and the breeze did cool us ever so slightly whenever a ski boat zoomed by. No, seriously, there were lots of smiles. The kids loved clinging to me and bouncing in the wakes of boats.

And when they were exhausted, the crawled into the makeshift fort Spence built and went to sleep.

Then the marathon began. My first mistake was not looking at the map of the proposed route, thinking ignorance would be bliss. But an hour later when my unprepared shoulders were screaming and all I could see in any direction was water!!! I started to regret being a sheep in yet another Spencely adventure.

It's not the first time my beloved has subjected me to utter misery. Like that time at Joyce Kilmer slickrock wilderness...or that time at Roaring River gorge with the paddle-til-you-die takeout. After 8 years, you'd think I would remember that Spence's middle name is Overshoot or Bite Off More Than His Wife Can Chew.

But, you gotta love him. He does dream up the best family outings. We see scenery that no one (in their right mind) will ever have the privilege of seeing.

Caroline's first day

2010-08-10T19:09:00.002-05:00

She's officially a Dodson Branch Elementary Wildcat in the pre-K class. She was incredibly proud of her princess backpack, courtesy of Nana, and promptly told her teacher she was going to be a princess.

She didn't even mind posing in front of her school's sign, courtesy of Lowe's.

This is her teacher, Ms. Faith. Caroline had a time with her name: "Thayth?"

She had a good first day, but was the only one in her class to actually sleep during nap time. We really like her teacher and I'm so excited Caroline will be making friends and learning new things.

Farm week at Roaring River - edited

2010-08-08T09:44:00.008-05:00

These fabulous photos are from Spence's all-boy boot camp last week. He typed up a really nice post about it, but committed some deadly blogging sin and lost it all. He's relegated himself to a brutal punishment of push-mowing the lawn in the blazing sun in hopes he dies of heat stroke rather than the shame of being tagged a lousy blogger. So allow me to tell his story -- briefly.

These fine young men are great-grandsons of Hattie and Will Terry Johnson, Spence's longtime next-door neighbors, both of whom died in the 90s. Their children, grandchildren and greats still enjoy the 100+ acre farm in Roaring River valley, and this summer the boys decided to sign up for some fishing, frivolity and fellowship with Spence.

Spence first took them to Waterloo Falls on Spring Creek, one of our favorite hangouts. Spence and the boys caught and cooked their own dinner. This photo was taken at Mill Creek Falls, a great spot to swim and fish.

The fruits of our labor. Well, mostly Jack's and Russell's labor.

This was a day when Spence wasn't cracking the whip and allowed the boys to just have fun. Just kidding! Campbell on the rope swing at Roaring River.

Russell and Jack fishing at Roaring River. Who's the best fisherman? Who caught the biggest and the most? These subjects were debated at great length all week.

Campbell, Will, and Wes at old mill site and falls on Flat Creek.

Wes, Will, and Campbell on Flat Creek. Cool rock formations. (This is a hike Spence and I have only done once together. We hike down Flat Creek, which really should be called Fall Flat on Your Behind Creek because the "flat" part of creek means the bottom is flat and slippery, until you reach the confluence of Roaring River, then you hike up RR through the gorge. The formations are so dramatic, it's hard to believe this is practically in our backyard.) Soon after Spence and the boys reached the confluence, some of their fish were in distress (obviously it's not practical to haul a cooler along), so Spence being the mountain-goat rock-hopper he is sprinted a 12-minute mile up Roaring River to the truck with them, where the cooler was waiting. He saved the fish! Of course, until they met their end with the filet knife a little later.

Spence with two nice smallmouth bass on Roaring River.

Nice catch!

Campbell's smallmouth.

One day, Spence went with the boys and grandmothers (who had been graciously keeping Dawit every day) to Hidden Springs Orchard about 3 miles from our house to pick blueberries. This is Betty Sue. Now that our bridges are out (one killed by the flood; the other being rebuilt), it takes about 35 minutes to get there.

It was a hot proposition, but Caroline and Russell had fun in the sun.

Russell and Jack were dang proud of their big catch Thursday afternoon.

Jack and his longear sunfish.

The boys agreed to share their catch with all of us at fish fry at the Johnson farm.

Dawit preferred corn!

Jack's and Russell's fish. Smallmouth bass and a longear sunfish above. Rock bass (redeye) below. (These are Spence's detailed fish facts, not mine.)

That's a big crawdad! Shouldn't he be on a leash? (I don't think anyone ate him.)

Hellgramite. Great bait, but not too pretty. (Ick!)

Dawie LOVED hanging with the boys, especially Jack and Russell. Here they were showing off Jack's box turtle.

Wes, Will, Campbell, Spence (back row) Russell, Jack, Dawit (front). What great boys!!

Papa Connie's Birthday

2010-07-24T10:08:00.001-05:00

Daddy's shoes

2010-07-23T10:28:00.002-05:00

I was sitting in the kitchen and heard clunk, clunk. So I jumped up and saw this... I grabbed the camera and he immediately stopped clomping to say "Cheeeeese!"

Then he carried on...

Pardon the beer belly.

Nicholas Michael Seifert born 7-20

2010-07-22T14:05:00.002-05:00

On Tuesday, I played hooky from work and went to visit my newest nephew, Dawit's future playmate.

We mostly just stood around looking at him, admiring his good looks, and wondering when he would wake up!

Proud mom and dad:

Pre-diaper change:

Diaper change:

We were all happy to see him drink 5 ccs of formula. That's a teaspoon!

His Nana:

And voila, he woke up! Right as we were leaving. And he said, "Okay, enough with the flash photography already. A guy's trying to sleep!"

Celebrating Savannah

2010-07-18T08:06:00.002-05:00

Last weekend we spent the day at the Hiwassee River celebrating cousin Savannah's 4th birthday. As you can see, this cutie is all girl, even taking her Barbies and Ariels for a dip in the river. Caroline, on the other hand, wore camoflage and basketball shorts. She inherited my sense of fashion.

Nineteen of us (plus one dog) hit the river.

Some were brave enough to body surf the freezing water.

Weekend adventures

2010-07-15T07:42:00.002-05:00

Actually, two weekends ago.

An after-nap popsicle...

Hanging with dad at Spring Creek...

Hanging with BFF Sarah and being princesses...

Paddling Roaring River with Sarah and fam...

Life is good.

My life revolves around poop

2010-06-27T14:41:00.007-05:00

It's not so much a complaint as a realization I came to during one of my poop duties. Let me just run through the list here...starting with the oldest. His name starts with S.

That's right, Skip (or Skipper-do, as we like to call him). Skip has a weight problem. My fault, but nevertheless he has to be kept up 20 hours a day. That makes for a lot of collected poop that someone has to scoop and take to a poop pile on the edge of the field. (Anyone need some manure for their garden? Come get it.)

Then there's sweet Delilah. She has free rein of the field 12 hours a day, but bless her heart, she gets hot out in the sun and spends a lot of her day in the barn breezeway. And what else is there to do in a barn breezeway than poop. She's also a very indiscriminate pooper. Last week, she actually pooped on their salt block -- the thing they lick to get trace minerals. Yum.

Going down the line, there's Caroline. She's mastered the potty in all poop matters, except one. Without getting too grahic, she likes to go on her own -- without help. Often, she just goes then goes about her business -- without TP or wipes. Then she pays the price later.

Finally, there's little D. Let me say, you never know what you're gonna get. Now that he's taken to drinking river water, either directly or by sucking on, say, a tow rope, his diaper changes can be interesting. He can also sit in a poopy diaper for hours, days. And let me tell you, he does. Because all you have to do is mention the word "diaper" or "change" and he's gone, gone, gone. If you happen to catch him, you better hold on tight because he will struggle and kick and scream and wiggle and twist. And make a huge mess. I almost can't handle him on the changing table; I've had to resort to the floor with my leg across his chest. This is not every now and then; it's every diaper change. Potty training can't be nearly this challenging, right?

Anyway, that's the poop on poop. I never really planned to write about poop, but I feel better now that I've gotten it out of my system.

A zillion pics to wrap up our trip

2010-06-17T16:13:00.002-05:00

This is a flashback to our paddle on Silver Creek from my dad's camera. Caroline and I were wearing outfits only Spence could appreciate -- capilene long underwear, shorts, wool socks and water shoes. It's how seasoned paddlers dress on days that are both cold and hot.

On Sunday, Lynn, Caroline and I hiked over Proctor Mountain. Let me just say 35 pounds in a Kelty backpack and 1,600 feet elevation gain. A feat I totally didn't appreciate until I saw these pics and how far her feet hang down. Geez girl, you're walking the next one!

This is my bike trail from Hailey to Ketchum. Lovely.

The pilot said something about Long's Peak, so I leaped over Caroline to take this. Before C was born, Spence and I hiked to Chasm Lake on the trail to Long's. Maybe one day we'll summit the Peak.

Home!

Caroline in action

2010-06-14T08:42:00.002-05:00

Idaho continued...

2010-06-12T16:26:00.009-05:00

Standing on volcano cinders:

Paddling down Silver Creek:

The Captain:

The moose:

I know I'm not gonna win a photography prize, but we found that moose is fast...and shy.

Craters of the Moon

2010-06-11T16:25:00.002-05:00

This was post-puke. Notice her nice new Craters of the Moon hoodie Granddad bought for her. You can't see here that her legs are bare.

Dad and me climbing the lava cinder mountain to a panoramic view.

Jogging back down. See our car? Caroline was zonked out in it.

When I got back, Lynn headed up.

See Dad at the top?

Arriving in Boise/Hailey

2010-06-11T08:49:00.002-05:00

Caroline was pretty excited about her plane rides.

But her 4 a.m. wake-up call soon caught up with her.

We think this is the Sawtooth Mountains leaving Boise.

Dog is Caroline's best friend. You'll see a lot of these. She'd rather stay home and play with Jaxsun and Daisy than go on adventures.

But we coaxed her out.

This is a gravel road through a valley I forget the name. Caroline's heading b ack to the car.

I have a word or two about Dollar Rental and it ain't as picturesque as this shot of my fine economy-size.

Isn't the west often defined by their wildflower fields below striking mountains in the background? Well...these are all dandelions!!!

Girls' trip

2010-06-09T20:31:00.002-05:00

Caroline and I are going on a plane trip tomorrow...to Idaho of all places. It's where my Dad and Lynn live, just outside of Sun Valley. As I type this, Caroline is in her bed down the hall (our Nashville house) rolling and fretting and anticipating me getting her out of bed at 4:30a. Our flight is at 5:50a, and she's pretty dang excited about it.

I've got her backpack all stuffed with goodies and activities, her bagel waiting on the counter for her favorite strawberry cream cheese. Nana-of-the-Year is driving us to the airport, then she'll likely go home and back to bed.

Once we get there, we've got an adventure-packed 5 days of hiking, biking, touring, climbing and paddling. Pics to come...

Night night.

A year ago today...

2010-06-08T07:31:00.001-05:00

...this is what we were doing.

What do my son and the oil spill have in common?

2010-06-04T06:47:00.004-05:00

They both refuse to be contained. I confess, when he escaped earlier in the week from his bed, he was in a Pack n Play. So logically, we, like BP, were hopeful our next solution would work: move him into Caroline's room (which was the original plan that got delayed) and put him in her crib now that she's in a big girl bed. Yes?

NO!

Apparently, falling 3 feet didn't deter him one bit. Caroline even was hopeful. "Don't worry, Daddy," she said as Dawit howled from his crib. "I'll calm him down." So for an hour, the sequence of events went like this: Dawit crying, Caroline saying, "It's okay." Thump. Feet, feet, feet. Caroline at top of stairs, "Owie got out!" Dawit right behind her, preparing to descend the stairs. Scoop 'em up. Back to bed. Repeat.

After about the 30th jump, he finally quit coming into the hall. He'd jump, stand by his bed with a defeated look and wait for one of us to plop him back in bed. We're calling it the extinction plan. It's one of us standing quietly in the hall waiting for the thump so we can make a quick intercept. At some point, it became me sitting at the top of the stairs with my laptop, googling crib tents.

Praise joy! It's nearly 7 a.m. and not a peep from either of the roommates.

~~ Reflections From Roaring River ~~