sisters

summer loves to have afton lie (lay?) on her lap.

lunchtime nap

Pacific Crest Trail

Rain. 60 miles. 5 days. And did I mention the rain? On Thursday night, I sat in my tent overlooking Spectacle Lake. Near freezing temperatures, wind, and incessant rain once again forced us to retire early for the evening. As my legs quivered with fatigue, I found myself strangely unable to suppress a smile. In spite of the trek’s misery, I loved it. Against all odds, I was giddy with contentment.

Our idea for the scout’s high adventure was simple. We would hike along the Pacific Crest Trail from Highway 2 to I-90. Under normal conditions, the trek would be challenging. Under somewhat extreme weather conditions, it would turn into a serious endurance event. Despite the hardships, the scouts performed most admirably. I didn’t hear a single complaint from our group the entire time.

The rest of this post is taken mostly from my journal. Although it seems a little glum at parts, I’d most definitely do it again.

Day 1 – Hwy 2 to Deception Lakes

After breakfast at Tyler Allen’s house, we hit the trail at 8:30 AM. My pack officially weighs in at 44 pounds. We follow Deception Creek as it steadily climbs to Deception Pass. One mile into the trip, I take a fall and hurt my left knee. Not good. We make good time until we take the fork to Deception Lakes. The last 1.2 miles are excruciating. I setup my tent after soaking my knee in the lake for 30 minutes. After playing Harry Potter Uno, John Durant, Tyler, and I regale the scouts with stories from our missions. We struggle to hang the bear bags that night. The rope breaks, and the subsequent fall crushes Nick’s Pop Tarts and apples.

As it begins to rain, I realize it was a mistake to wash my clothes which aren’t yet dry. Hope the girls back home are holding up OK.

Day 2 – Deception Lakes to Deep Lake

Rain makes breaking camp a chore. We hit the trail at 7:30AM under a steady drizzle. Pack weight has increased significantly due to absorbed water. The first few miles are easy, but dense fog spoils the views. Midway, we cross a treacherous creek. I lose my footing and soak a boot. After crossing, we begin the ascent to the base of Cathedral Rock. The country is spectacular. Six and a half hours after leaving camp, we arrive at Deep Lake. Although my left knee pains me significantly, I was only a mild hindrance to the pace of the crew. Sun breaks in the mid afternoon allow us to dry out a bit.

Day 3 – Deep Lake to Waptus Lake

Broke camp again under a drizzle. The hike to Waptus Lake was an easy six miles. Unfortunately, I forgot my regimen of stretching and pain killers so the knee doesn’t want to bend for the first couple of miles. Upon arriving, we light a fire (Waptus was the only lake on the itinerary where fires were allowed). The fire is a most glorious sight. At noon, the first of our Big Rock brethren meet us (they started at I-90). The fire and the company make for a significant morale boost. We take turns diving into the lake from a fallen log that extended 50 feet from the shore. The last Big Rock guys don’t show up until nearly 6PM. They look like death warmed over. Some of the scouts had decided a tarp would be much lighter then a tent. Unfortunately, they didn’t realize that a tent would be much more effective in inclement weather. Nothing teaches quite as effectively as the school of hard knocks. Much of the evening is spent trying to dry various articles of clothing by the fire. After drying out my socks, I carefully place my boots by the fire and go to go pump water. When I return , Jacob asks “whose shoes are melting?” They are mine. D’oh.

Day 4 – Waptus Lake to Spectacle Lake

In the morning, a group of hikers from the British Army make it out of camp before we do. Our competitive spirits flare up and we make haste to break camp. In our rushing about, we miss a key junction on the trail and go a mile out of our way. We pass the British group mid-way through the hike and arrive at Spectacle Lake nearly 2 hours before our British counterparts.

Once again, we make camp in the rain. Spectacle Lake has to be the most fantastic destination of the trip. On a warmer day, we would have spent hours swimming and exploring. Instead, we shiver under a clump of trees.

Day 5 – Spectacle Lake to home

At 3:30AM, I can’t sleep any longer. I’m dry, warm, and reasonably comfortable, but the sound of the rain against the rain fly isn’t very motivating. At 4:45AM, I can’t take the boredom any longer and being my morning regimen. After stretching, taping my feet (to prevent blisters), and stowing my sleeping bag, I emerge from the tent. John and Tyler are also up. Andrew volunteered for the leaky tent that night and hasn’t slept at all. We rouse the other boys and begin breaking camp.

Ridge Lake is over 12 miles away. The conditions on the trail are extreme. We spend 3 hours at nearly six thousand feet. I can’t feel my hands. My fingers are so clumsy that I can’t open a package of Gu. The boys lack decent rain gear and shiver in hoodies soaked in rain water. Much of the trail is treacherous. The path cuts across steep rock slides. The views should be fantastic, but the dense fog reduces visibility to a couple hundred feet. We spend hours in silence, each of us ever respectful of the chasm to our side.

We reach Ridge Lake and don’t even pause. It’s 7 miles to I-90 and we trudge along. As we pass other hikers, they ask where we started that morning. When they hear Spectacle Lake, jaws drop. By 2:30PM we’ve made it to the trail head. Nearly 20 miles in 8 hours. We never even stopped to take off our packs. Not a single complaint from any of the boys. Most impressive.

Now it’s home to a good meal, warm bed, and three beautiful girls.

singing in the rain

our first game of who's who.

i think this one is pretty obvious.

understanding your toddler

since last week’s breakdown, my feelings of control over the violent upheaval that is summer’s toddlerhood have increased dramatically, thanks, in part, to the helpful perspectives, reassurances, crystallization, and much amusement gleaned from a few of the books that amazon so sweetly (and promptly!) sent my way.

the first and most basic rule of thumb is that i’m not a bad parent if my child throws fits. this is an especially difficult concept for anal-retentive success junkies like me to accept, but it’s an important one. the hallmark of my good parenting will not necessarily be how my children are behaving (because sometimes, they will behave badly, and if yours don’t, a plague on both your houses!), but how am i behaving? let's remember those three c's: calm, consistent, and in control. goodness knows we don’t need two of us throwing tantrums.

so if it’s not emily’s fault, why is summer being difficult?

i’m going to have to side with piaget on this one.

basically, at the behest of laurence fishburne, we forced the red pill down her throat and she has now left the matrix.

let me explain. heretofore, all summer’s reality was based on the fact that she was the center of the universe. when she was hungry, i fed her. tired, i rocked her. bored, i entertained her. a vital phase in development that should in no way be undermined because it was through my quick and sensitive responses to her basic needs that summer learned to trust me.

but enter toddlerhood, and now it’s time to be “unplugged.”

she rather abruptly discovers that the reality she has been living is actually not reality at all. now I tell her when and what to eat, I tell her when to sleep, and I tell her what she can and cannot do (and unfortunately, there’s a lot she cannot do). where she previously thought she was in charge, now my job is to make her believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am in charge.

and what makes the terrible twos “terrible” is that like any dictator worth her salt and facing an insurrection, she’s not going down without a fight.

but that’s no excuse to go all jack bauer on her. while summer can be a bit thorny, she can also be a lot of fun. the goal now is to focus on her strengths and make this all-important transition of power as smooth as possible.

after all, there’s no use replacing one menacing tyrant with another.

though, i would make a most excellent menacing tyrant…

one month

ah, sweet sleep deprivation, you are my dear companion yet again.

gone is my dozing silent newborn. now lu spends her days grunting, squeaking, squawking, and cooing. *sigh* (some) beautiful baby noises.

her marine blue eyes are often wide open, examining, observing, investigating and taking in her world. (they open really wide when summer is near).

as with most one-month olds, she has trouble self-soothing, and it therefore falls to those with more experience (yes, that would be moi) to help her out with all the swaddling and shh-ing and sucking and swaying. i admit to not always cherishing these tender moments for what they are, sometimes feeling too busy or too tired and nearly begrudging her neediness…

but if i could live life in a vacuum, i would do nothing but hold and rock and love my baby girls.

Buzz Cut

Inspired by Colbert's visit to Iraq and seizing upon the opportunity afforded by the backpacking trip with the Scouts, I decided to drastically alter my hairstyle. Before Emily jumped in the shower on Saturday morning, I asked her where I should buzz my head. "Anywhere outside the house" came the reply.

When she finished her shower, this is how she found me:

She was suprised on two counts:

1. How could anyone screw up something so simple? Turns out shaving your head is much harder than it looks on TV.

2. When I asked where I should cut my hair, she assumed we would cut it together later that afternoon. I assumed it was obvious that it meant I would be cutting it immediately. Later, she remarked that my thought patterns were not unlike a certain toddler in our house.

After some help from Emily, this is how it turned out:

lula

just like we did for summer (aka bizzins), bryan and i have unknowingly come

up with a random nickname for afton. in case we ever forget, here is its genesis:

af

af a laf

af a laf a lu

af a laf a lu la

"lu la"

and actually, we often just call her "lu."

who'd have thunk?

self portrait

this is me.

and this is the list of books i just purchased from amazon:

Making the "Terrible" Twos Terrific

Setting Limits with Your Strong Willed Child:
Eliminating Conflict by Establishing Clear, Firm, and Respectful Boundaries

Playful Parenting

1,2,3...The Toddler Years:
A Practical Guide for Parents & Caregivers

I Brake for Meltdowns:
How to Handle the Most Exasperating Behavior of your 2 -5 Year Old

heaven help the wheelers.

Seafaring

Although the Pacific Northwest may be cloudy and rainy for 8 months of the year, Summer is a season of endless sun. The effulgent rays so excite Seattleites that we actually organize a giant celebration: Seafair.

We've never actually been to Seafair proper, but this year, my boss invited the team to board his boat on Thursday and watch the Blue Angels practice their crazy stunts over Lake Washington. Good times indeed.

 

happy birthday to me

thanks to all the well wishers!

i can already tell twenty-six is going to be a year to knock my socks off.

jumping jack flash

summer has a new best friend:

the trampoline.

heat wave

we've yet again witnessed history during our tenure in the pacific northwest.

yesterday (july 29th) was the hottest day in seattle since they started recording temps in 1891.

103 degrees officially, a few degrees higher where we live (for some perspective, we average around 70 in the summer months).

yes folks, it was hotter here in washington than it was in tuscon, arizona.

a special thanks to the bostrons who have extended their air conditioned hand to our family this week to help us wimps (with newborns!) beat the heat.

kami, if you ever need a kidney, you know who to call.

playing favorites

every time the phone rings, summer comes a running, squealing with delight, "dada!"

every time the garage door opens, summer dashes to the stairs, "dada!"

the other night, when i tried to put her to bed, she says to me, "not mama -- dada."

and when we leave bryan's office after visiting for lunch, all the way home, she weeps and sobs for her "dada."

i think we have ourselves a bona fide daddy's girl here.

ps - when she gets hurt, she still cries for mama.

bed time

don't you wish you could come play at our house?

flower power

watch out, people! emily has rekindled her
relationship with oversized botanical hair accessories!

one week

it's hard to know exactly what to say about newborns. afton's first week of life has been fairly uneventful -- spent mostly doing what new babies do best: sleeping and eating. with some intermittent harassments by older sister, summer (who still absolutely adores her baby sister).

 

of note is that afton regained her birth weight in less than one week (due in part to the fact that i produce a milk supply to rival that of most dairy farms) and that she smiles all the time. i know that the experts claim babies so young can't really smile, but afton can. three out of four times you smile at her, she will smile back. and often throughout the day we'll find her staring off and smiling all to herself.

 

i think she knows a secret.

tubba love

afton's first bath at home.

hold on tight

(facebook users: this post contains a video)

bringing home baby

labor day review

i know you all are just dying to hear about afton’s grand entrance in to the world. so please, take a seat and join us for the ride.

first things first, how was the induction? frankly, i feel it played a pretty small role in the birth story/experience. i needed only about two milliunits of pitocin before my body kicked in and took the reigns of the process. am i glad i did it? absolutely. why? because, as predicted, from the time i began “feeling” contractions until the time i needed to excuse dear afton from her cozy womb was only about an hour – and definitely not an hour where i was in any state to be traveling.

when we arrived at the hospital, bryan was put in charge of the captain’s log. here are his thoughts from the first, rather uneventful, six hours:

5:31AM: Nurse A tried to put in an IV. Fails. Tries again. Fails. Emily doesn’t react well.

5:45AM: Nurse B doesn’t like the way the veins look. Nurse A+B call in nurse C, a poking expert. Nurse C isn’t successful either. Bryan doesn’t like the way things are going, and almost passes out himself. Validates his decision to NOT go to medical school.

5:58AM: Nurses decide to page the anesthesiologist.

6:08AM: After answering the same questions over and over, Bryan wonders what’s so hard about moving all these paper forms to electronic medical records.

6:15AM: Anesthesiologist arrives. Has IV inserted in less than 30 seconds. No wonder these people get paid the big bucks.

6:27AM: Pitocin drip starts.

6:44AM: Nurse informs Emily she’s having a contraction. Emily is surprised.

8:15: Dr. Dydell comes in to break Emily’s water (technical term: bag of waters). Dilated to a 4.

8:20: Bryan returns from retrieving a power cord from his office so that he may continue to log his observations.

8:30: Nurse makes a joke about Mormons and polygamy. Mild awkwardness.

8:56: Wendy finishes eating Emily’s breakfast.

9:17: Turn down Pitocin because she’s going strong on her own.

10:13: Watch Rachel Ray pour a bowl of bacon grease on a pile of fries. Increase Pit back to 2.

10:33: Saw a massive contraction on the machine. Emily feels little.

10:56: Emily at a 5.5. Leave for a brisk walk around the maternity ward.

11:34: Come back from walk. Have a new, Russian nurse. The accent rocks.

at this point, bryan’s musings come to an abrupt end as the poo-poo hits the proverbial fan and his attention is needed elsewhere.

about ten minutes in to our walk, i have a contraction wherein i need to stop and lean against the wall. when i walk back into my room, i have another such contraction. and five minutes later, i’m lying on the bed, experiencing a transitional contraction, dilated at a nine and crying uncontrollably.

essentially, i dilated nearly four centimeters in a half hour and went from feeling nothing, or just twinges, to going in to transition. this may seem like an incredible blessing, but it’s a real shock to the system. i chose again to not have any type of pain medication, and most women who have been through transition on their own will tell you that they did not think they would make it out alive. those measly last two centimeters really take all you’ve got, and some you don’t, to complete.

but for me, personally, transition pales in comparison to pushing. and at around this time (12:30pm), after about ten contractions, i enter complete (seriously, complete) hysteria.

remember the princess bride? when wesley is hooked up to that machine that sucks out years of his life, and prince humperdink comes in and gives him a lecture about true love and suffering and then throws the gears to their highest point (the six-fingered man yells, “not to fifty!”), and wesley seizes violently and screams so loudly the whole nation can hear. that’s pushing for me.

unfortunately, as bryan, my mom, my doctor, and my entourage of nurses will attest, this is not hyperbolic. it’s the sad, sad, truth. but i don’t want to unduly frighten all you ladies out there who haven’t yet had children—as with much of my birthing, such an experience is not “normal.”

another bit of good news is that this time, pushing was only 30 minutes.

baby afton made her eight pound debut, they placed her on my tummy and bryan cut the cord. 1:07pm.

afton is so sweet and so soft, calm and content and very sleepy. she is, of course, another wheeler baby with that chin and mouth, and only time will tell what she ends up inheriting from the fairer genes. summer loves her already, and bryan and i continue to be amazed at how pieces and fleetings of perfection grace our lives.

welcome home, afton.

Introducing Afton Noelle

Born July 11th, 2009, 1:07PM

8lb. 1oz.

inducted

for those of you who may not have been around for summer’s birth, there’s something you should know: i can’t feel contractions.

yup, you read it right. i guess it’s my body’s recompense for the hellish first four months of pregnancy.

and while such ignorance has its many, many advantages, it also has one decided disadvantage: timing. with summer, i was in happy oblivion, but this time, i feel like a ticking time bomb.

to add some perspective, even after my water broke, and i was nine centimeters dilated, they had to hook me up to a machine to tell how far apart, how long, and how strong my contractions were. i was no help. eventually, yes, i did feel something (um, excruciating pain), but that was only an hour or so before it was time to push. not the best situation when you live 45 minutes from the hospital.

anyhoo, i’ve been sort of crossing my fingers that everything is going to just work out (as in, i don’t deliver in the car), but today when i went to the doctor for a “labor check” (again, because i can’t actually tell when i’m in labor), they recommended me for an…an…induction!

dun, dun, dun, DUN!

the doctor, for her part, thought she was handing me a golden ticket. she didn’t quite understand why i looked so confused and nervous. why wasn’t i jumping at the chance? but even given my apprehension, we went ahead and scheduled the induction, and she reminded me that if i decided to cancel, i better call as soon as possible because there was a line of women who wanted my spot (like i was at an elvis concert or something).

most likely, i’m going to go through with it because i can see the concern in allowing me to wander at will and wait until the last minute. additionally, given what they told me today, i’m already nearing active labor (having passed latent labor), so very little intervention would be necessary.

but be it known that a little piece of my “principles” was sawed off and floated down the river today.

uncharted territory

comparing pregnancies, summer was delivered four days ago already. but that’s not totally surprising—just the other day, she escaped from her car seat straps after a mere 45 minute drive (an eternity to her). hating any type of confinement, i have no doubt that baby summer was planning her uterine escape from the moment of conception.

little girl two, on the other hand, appears to be something else altogether: content. she’s locked and loaded, ready to debut at any moment, but just put- put- puttering around. dilating here a little and there a little, contractions sometimes and sometimes not, getting lower and lower and lower everyday (seriously, if she doesn’t hurry up, she’s going to just fall out in a week), and essentially taking her sweet, sweet time.

i’m imagining going swimming with my two girls in a few years: summer will be the one impetuously jumping in the pool (the deep end, mind you) while her sister cautiously dips in a toe and waits.


**i found this photo on my mom's camera from september 2008. i miss my jeans.

o say, can you see

celebrating our nation's independence:

summer savors her first tootsie pop at the carnation 4th of july parade.

many thanks to the harper family for a comfortable chair in the shade!

 

never one to stay still when music is playing, summer begins spontaneously dancing in the street.

emily's flag cake.

our little patriot enjoying a delicious backyard barbeque.

emily secretly hopes the fireworks will scare little baby right out the womb.

unfortunately, little baby decides it's much safer inside.

fireworks bounty.

 

 

not surprisingly, summer LOVES fireworks.
it has all her qualifications for a good time:  lights, loud noises, and most importantly, danger.

happy 4th!