Sidelined

Well, this wasn't in the New Year's plans. I had dreamed up a lovely meal, plus lots of appetizers (more progress on the book!) for a couple of friends. Now, it's really just me with my leg up, on the couch, trying to stay awake until midnight.

"What happened?," you might wonder. Well, I stepped off a step. Yep, I stepped off a step into the garage, and landed in a heap. Funny, I've done this before-- in 1992, about a week and a half after I'd moved to Boston (alone, without knowing anyone), I was taking some empty boxes out to my car, illegally parked in front of the building, and when I stepped off the curb I crumpled into a heap. That time it was a greenstick fracture of the left fibula. This time, it's ever so much worse.

It felt worse when I did it yesterday than it did 17 years ago-- I lay on the garage floor, crying, amidst pop bottles and folding chairs and dog food, thoroughly frightening the children... It turns out that this time, rather than wrapping me up, putting on a cast a couple days later and telling me to stay off it for six weeks, like last time... this time I have to have surgery to put in plates and screws. The bones on either side of the ankle are broken, like so:



I am distinctly unexcited about the prospect of surgery, for several reasons. Chief among them is the negative experiences I've had with surgery (and, specifically, anaesthesia). When I was 21 I had a double bunionectomy , and when I woke up, I had a mask on and was panicky and claustrophobic. So when, at 28, I had to have an appendectomy, I described that experience to the anasthesiologist, who promised me that would not happen; that when I woke up in the recovery room, I would have no mask on. And he was right. However, I also woke up during the surgery, and could feel them making an incision, which is less than ideal.

Still, I'll be running the anaesthesia gauntlet again this coming Wednesday. It's an outpatient procedure, but until then (and probably for a while after) I'm to be "bedridden," according to the surgeon. My foot should always be higher than my hert, which should make cooking, taking care of the kids, and pretty much everything but reading and watching TiVO pretty challenging.

If any of you are wondering what you might do to help, my most pressing need is transportation of my children. Jon will take them to school in the mornings, and I will lie on the couch until someone comes home. The trick is getting the kids home without Jon leaving work at 2:30 every day. If you're able to do 3:30 (sometimes 4:30) shuttle runs between Highline Academy and my house (a seven minute trip, one way), and you have room for my three hooligans in your car, let me know. Thanks!

Now, off to work on my Bejeweled score..

More Crafting...

I know, I know-- don't faint. I'm blogging. AND I crafted.

A couple weekends ago I spent three wonderful sessions cropping with my friends of whom I do not see nearly enough. Shockingly, I only managed to finish four layouts, but I'm pretty darn proud of them.

Figured I'd start with a combination of my two most consuming hobbies-- scrapbooking and cooking my way through Deborah Madison's cookbook:



Next there was Fathers' Day at Coors Field for Little League Day:



Then I pulled out a favorite photo of Sophie and Sleeping Beauty from last winter's Disney trip. I recently found the perfect Thickers-- the alpha is called "Glass Slipper."



Finally, I scrounged around until I found the right mix of papers with orange to go with photos of Baxter's eighth birthday-- who knows why he was wearing his (orange) coat while he ate ice cream cake for breakfast!

Summer is Baseball (and Softball) Season

So our kids have never played a lot of sports. There are several reasons for this. They are not athletically inclined, particularly, but that's not even the main reason. The primary reason our children have never participated in many sports/dance/art type classes is simple: I couldn't manage it. As soon as one got old enough to do something, there was another one (or two) hanging off me, and I just couldn't work out the logistics.

They're finally getting bigger, though, and more portable. So about a year and a half ago, Jon found a Fall softball league for Madeline. We had tried soccer, on and off, but the kids could take it or leave it and, frankly, I'm not a fan. I am a baseball fan (or at least I was, before childbearing took up every available byte of brainspace), so I was all for this softball deal. Madeline took some convincing, but she stuck with it and we drove all around the city for a couple of months for practices and games.

The next summer he found her a better league, much closer to home-- this team, the SE Denver Under 10 Cubs, practiced a few blocks from our house. That's more like it! The games were generally closer to home, too, and the coach is outstanding. It was a good experience, though she fretted (as usual) about not being good enough.

That same summer we got Baxter into the local Babe Ruth league, but his coach was not good at all. In fact, it's probably generous to call him a "coach." That was too bad, because we wanted Baxter to be excited about baseball, and I feared we'd lose him.

But, when it was time to sign up for this year, he was game for another season, and we found him a team with an excellent coach. He's on the White Sox, so we have some sort of weird Chi-town rivalry thing going on in our house, but it's been a good season.

On Fathers' Day, the kids paraded around the field at Coors before the Rockies game, which gave me the rare opportunity to photograph them in their uniforms at the same time.



I think my favorite thing about this season, though, is their numbers. Her first season, Madeline got to choose, and chose her favorite number, 43. (Don't ask-- no one knows why she chose this as her favorite.) Last year she had to pick a uniform, and she had 5, and Baxter got HIS favorite number, 10. This year, some other kid chose 10 (Baxter believes he heard Baxter say he wanted it and chose it first on purpose, but that's unclear), and Baxter was very upset that he had to take 13. Unlucky, he thought. So, when it was Madeline's turn to choose, she could have taken 10, but she chose 13 instead, hoping it would help Baxter feel better about having 13. I'm not sure it made Baxter feel better, but it warmed this Mama's heart!



Madeline's team just finished their season. They won their first two playoff games-- very exciting-- but Madeline had just returned after missing four weeks with her broken had (which, you will recall, she got when she fouled a ball off her hand and finished the at-bat). Baxter's team has a couple more games in the regular season (and I honestly don't know how they're doing, though he has improved tremendously this year and has had several hits, runs, RBI...). Last week he was sitting in the back of the car, quiet, and then piped up: "Mom, maybe 10 wasn't my lucky number after all." I asked, "Why, Sweetie?" He waited a moment before answering, "Well, I played a lot better this year, with 13."

Cast On, Cast Off...

So, during my blog drought, Madeline broke her hand. She was batting for her softball team, the Southeast Under-10 Cubs, and she fouled one off her right hand. (Her father is very proud that she FINISHED her at-bat.) We iced it and gave her Advil, but we didn't realize it was broken for a day and a half. Finally Jon took her to Children's for an x-ray, and sure enough-- broken 5th metacarpal. (That's the knuckle of your pinky finger, for you non-medical types. Madeline keeps having to correct me when I say metatarsal, which would be her pinky TOE.)

Yesterday was the day she's waited for four weeks now. She went to "Critter Camp" at the Dumb Friends' League with her cast, she went to Gardening Camp with her cast (and held it out of the water while she "swam" each afternoon), and even went to her first sleep-away camp with her cast (where it was too cold to swim anyway).

Here she is, before:



And after:



She was looking forward to washing that hand; about the fourth day she started to complain that the cast smelled. Once the nurse sawed the cast off (Madeline was only party reassured that the saw vibrated instead of spinning), she left and we went straight to the sink. We washed... and washed... and washed. The amount of dead skin on her hand was a bit shocking, and she was pretty grossed out:

I Crafted!

Yes, that's what I said. I CRAFTED!

Today's the first day of my week off. The kids are in camp (though that isn't going as well as I'd hoped; Baxter's not too excited about "Gardening Camp"), and though I have a gazillion things to do, I decided not to do them today. Today, I crafted. Don't believe me? Want proof?

Voila:



My new Hero Arts "Raindrops" stamp had been calling to me for days (while I was using it as a coaster). I embossed it in white and used American Crafts cardstock, Prima flowers (the paper ones) and Queen & Co felt flowers, Threading Water, Scenic Route rub-ons... The color combination came from the latest issue of Oprah that landed in my mailbox in the last few days-- I ripped it out. See? I KNEW I was gonna craft.

Update

So I've been asked for an update. Let's see-- what's been happening the last month or so?

-Passover. Two seders, hardly anything to eat at either.
-Easter. The kids just LOVE this holiday, but not for any reason having to do with actual Easter, just the baskets.
-Pinkeye. Sophie's been out of school two days now, with me at work-- fingers crossed that she can go to school tomorrow.

Not much else to report at the moment... More news later.

Stacy Julian's coming to Denver

... and she's looking for a local store to do an event. Know any?

Chime in here! How much would I LOVE to host one of the Grand Dames of scrapbooking?

Hope for the Dora-Fatigued

So if you have (or have had in the last 4 or 5 years) a girl between 3 & 5, you've probably seen every episode of Dora The Explorer in existence. There are probably more than a few Dora books littering your house, and you may even have the Dora Talking House, as we have in Sophie's room.

I had long questioned the benefits of this phase each of my girls has gone through, but I have finally seen the payoff.

Friday we went to Colorado Mills, to the Lego Store, for Baxter's birthday party. Jon was walking in with his Mom, while Baxter, his friend Nathan, Sophie, Madeline and I went ahead to the Lego store to get set up. I was walking briskly, holding Sophie's hand in one hand and the cake in the other, and had Baxter & Nathan in my peripheral vision from time to time. I was confident Madeline was keeping up, though when we got to the store Baxter asked where she was, and I assumed she'd dropped back with her dad & grandma. Imagine my surprise, then, when they showed up in a few minutes, sans Madeline. I began to panic, and searched the Lego store, the Build-a-Bear store next door, and Claire's a few doors down. I retraced our steps down the mall, peering into each store as my panic rose. While I spoke to the mall cop (complete with her Segway-- seriously?), who frankly did not seem all that prepared for a lost child, Jon stuck his head in the nearby bathroom but M didn't answer. The mall cop put the word out, and I hurried back to the Lego store to see if she'd showed up.

She had.

I had been, as you might imagine, BESIDE myself. Jon was concerned, but my inner pessimist (and CSI fan) had created a scenario no mother should even THINK about. I cried, and hugged her and was so grateful to have her back. I asked where she'd gone, and it turns out she'd been daydreaming her way down the mall behind us; she was looking into stores and just walked past the store and soon found herself in the food court. She was frightened, but she kept her wits about her and (though she SWEARS Dora played no part in this), she remembered who to ask when we don't know which way to go: THE MAP! She found a directory, located the Lego store, and went there posthaste.

What a smart girl, with such a good head on her shoulders (when she's actually using it to pay attention to her surroundings!). I'm proud of her and slightly less annoyed now when I hear that ^$%# song: "I'm the Map, I'm the Map, I'm the Map, I'm the MAP!"

I Found Your Camera

Okay, I didn't find YOUR camera... I didn't find anyone's camera. But I just discovered this awesome site. If you find a camera (or memory card, or even photos found in frames at a thrift store), you post a few of the photos to the blog. Then people who've lost a camera go there to see if their photos show up.

Genius, really. And the first page right now has success stories. What a great thing! The last success story shows a couple with their, apparently, newly adopted baby. They lost the camera in China, and the site helped them get it back!

Warms the cockles of my heart...

The "Grand" Finale

So, after a quick detour to dip our toes in the Pacific (which was VERY cold), we left San Diego and headed for the Grand Canyon. The plan was to leave at 9:00 and be there in the afternoon, and then drive on further before we stopped for the night. We left San Diego two and a half hours late, though, so we were driving like a bat out of hell to get to the canyon before sunset. It became clear we weren't going to make it, so we decided to stop in Williams, at the intersection of the highway and the road to the Grand Canyon, and go in the morning, hoping to be there for sunrise.

The next morning we rousted the kids at 6:15, fed them, and stuffed them in the car. We were on pace to arrive just at sunrise, but as we drove closer it started to snow. And snow. And snow. The park ranger warned us that visibility was "low," but we had gone all that way, so we paid our $25 and drove on. By this time Jon & I were pretty certain we weren't going to be able to see anything, but Sophie bounded out of the car in an enveloping fog, saying, "We're here! We're at the GRAND CANYON!"

Yes, well, you can't prove it by me. Here's what we saw:



That's right--visibility was ZERO. We trooped in the snow to the Visitors' Center, which was closed. The bathrooms were open, at least, and we took a photo before leaving scenic Grand Canyon National Park:



By that time Sophie was cold & wet and not so enthusiastic. So, there you have it-- $25 worth of fog!

He Took My SHOWER!

So this morning we're trying to get out of Albuquerque in time to get to Denver by mid-afternoon. The kids are anxious to get back to their Christmas loot, and to see Elwood, and to sleep in their own beds.

We get up, go downstairs for breakfast, and when we get back to the room Jon says, "Let's get out of here!" I say, "But I need to take a shower." Jon asks, "Why?"

I tell him I didn't take one last night after we swam, and he sighs heavily and stalks off. Fine, I think-- I'll take a shower when we get home. Let's just get out of here as quickly as we can.

So I'm packing and so forth, and he comes in and gets a plastic bag for the swimsuits that are still hanging in the bathroom. Then I hear the tub faucet start. Odd, I think-- he must be rinsing the suits. Then I hear the shower go on. And on, and on...

So I burst into the bathroom after the shower goes off, hackles up and voice raised. WHY are you taking a shower when you said I didn't have time to take one??? I was MAD.

Jon, however, looks completely bewildered (if naked and dripping). "What? You said I should take a shower!"

WHAT?!?!?!

So he apparently heard me say HE should take a shower, because HE didn't take one after we swam. Right. Because I'm in the habit of monitoring his hygiene so closely.

For the love of BOB. So he's all freshly showered and sweet-smelling, and I'm grubby and uncomfortable for the drive home. Great.

And On to San Diego

We got up on Tuesday morning and Jon spent the morning doing laundry. The kids all got showered up, and they played while we packed... Finally we got on the road a little after noon (after a delicious lunch at Alerto's). We stopped in Poway so I could visit my fellow retailer, Gena, at her store Cool Scrapbook Stuff. It was great to meet her, and to see her store, and to pick her brain a little (she's been in the scrapbook business nine years!)... but I forgot to take a photo. Nuts!

Then we headed on to downtown San Diego to see what we could see. The answer was: Very little. There was an incredible fog settled on the city; it looked like we were driving through a cloud:



We had dinner at a DELICIOUS Indian place, Royal India, and then found our way in the fog to the hotel. Wednesday morning we got up and got to Legoland. I'm sorry to say it was a bit of a letdown; the rides were a little lame, and even the kids were underwhelmed. (Well, except Sophie, who could find the silver lining in a tornado.) The things built of Lego were cool, including the tree at the entrance (note Madeline's unhappy expression; she did NOT want to be at a park filled with the little colored bricks her brother loves so much).



She warmed up a little, though, and enjoyed Miniland, with all the towns created from Lego. By early afternoon we decided to bag it early (missing the "midnight" celebration at 6 PM with the big Brick Drop), and party back at the hotel. While Baxter & Madeline built Lego creations to buy and take home, Sophie and I ventured, GPS in hand, to Encinitas to a Party City to acquire the requisite hats & blow-outs, and to a local Von's for party food (and beverages). We watched "Elf," rang in the New Year at 9 pm, and then put the hooligans to bed.

Today's plans are unclear, but Baxter's still asleep at 9:15, which is unheard of for him, so we'll see where this goes.