There is nothing like living in a small town with a bunch of, excuse me, dirtbags, to make you question your committment to living a life of help and love for all mankind. Long story, not necessary to go into it, but suffice it to say, a raving lunatic dirt bag made my life hell today.

Rose's foot is doing well. We went to the vet today to get her dressing changed, and the first thing she said to me was "WOW! Good Job!" in reference to the rebandaging that I had to do. I was pretty proud. Then it turns out that the wound is doing really well, so well that she does not need a new bandage -- though she needs one of those cones/lampshades/elizabethan collar things. Then she said to me again "that was a really great job! what is your background?" and I said "horses." But the inner vet/MD in me was glowing.

Ava and Carter had a nondescript day--all we did was go to the grocery store and the vet's then out in the boat. They both just tagged along. Quite happily though.

the amputation of rose's toe has proven to be a complication on an exponential scale. i have no stamina to write in detail (those of you that know rox can ask her for the four-letter word infused details, the rest will have to wait for me to narrate it sufficiently). but to give a synopsis:

1. pick up at the vet: "do not let her get the dressing wet"
2. home, out of the car: rose bolts to the pond and swims, about the last thing rose ever does upon exiting the car.
3. i have to change the dressing without the benefit of general anesthesia. rose rises to the occasion after protesting and finally allows me to wrap it. horses are decidedly easier.
4. next day, early am: walk the dog. put a baggie on her foot, put carter on the bike, get ava in shoes, we all go down the road in our jammies and bed-heads for a torture session for rose who apparently needs her privacy to poop. no poop.
5. sort of early am: try again. no poop. dog remains agitated when inside though.
6. carter falls asleep: dog REALLY has to poop, she swears, this time. out we go, with monitor turned up really loud. poop success.
7. rest of morning: dog hates being inside, pees everywhere because she is incontinent, whines desperately to have her freedom.
8. capitulate and let her outside on leash, tied to deck. get dirty look.
9. walk her periodically throughout day.
10. early evening: leave to do errands for 1 hour, go to nana's house. kids fall asleep in car on the way back, transfer them to bed, go to get rose, see if she needs to poop. take her for a walk around the property, and watch as entire dressing falls off her foot. rose is in the woods without a bandage. upon further examination, notice that she chewed it off. make mental note to call vet and ask for lampshade collar.
11. evening, in woods, with bandage-less dog: lean over rose, pick up her left front foot and hold her steady and gallumph with her, three-legged, back to the house. rose's agility surprises me, my balance comes in handy.
12. back in house: re-bandage her foot. call dad, the surgeon and hypothetically ask if it is better to change a dressing a lot or a little. "as little as possible," he says. oh. never mind.
13. medicate her. worry about tomorrow am. not liking poop potential.
14. give her a bone and scratch her ears, because after all, it is not her fault.

A few days ago, Peter brought home a cache of junk food, including a box of chocolate covered oreos, which are very very delicious. I hid most of the stuff that Ava would recognize (skittles, starbursts, gummi bears), but since Ava has no idea what an Oreo is, I figured that box would not need to be hid. Well, this morning, Ava looked up into the cabinet when it was open, saw the box and said "Mom, can I have one of those chocolate hamburgers?"

We went up Floodwood mountain today. This was a 0.5 mile hike to the trailhead, then a 1.0 mile hike to the summit, with some considerable scrambling at the top. Ava did it all, the whole way. 3 miles total. I pumped her full of sugar at the summit (after suggesting some wheat thins and apricots, no deal), and then we went back down--she managed most of the tough stuff by sliding on her bottom.

We came home and had cheesy scrambled eggs, peas, and sliced peaches--from start to finish, 11 minutes of preparation. I did a little victory dance at that new record.

Carter spent so much time in the backpack this afternoon that when we got home, all he did was walk laps around the house, holding 2 cloth napkins and waving them--celebrating his freedom, I suppose.

The other day, I learned that you can paddle a Lost Pond Boat (like a very lightweight open kayak) and nurse an infant at the same time. Ava, carter and I were in the boat on our maiden paddle together and Carter was really fussy. I pulled over to the bank, but pretty soon realized that with his lifejacket on he was in an easily maintained position. It was sort of like driving a car with your knees. I had both hands free, and so I just paddled away. I spent most of the time hoping no one came along, because there really was no hiding the effort, but figured most people out there would be crunchy enough to shrug and smile.

There is so much that I want to write about, and I have had so little time! Yesterday we went to the Burlington, VT air show and thoroughly traumatized the kids. Everything was great until the Thunderbirds showed up (the part we were most looking forward to). Then they did this super low fly by as a surprise to scare the audience. Well, yeah, it sure scared the wits out of Carter. I got his ears covered, but it was still outrageously loud. He erupted in tears and would not stop. And Ava was apparently not a fan either, though Peter had her up front so she could see better.

So, we will wait patiently for the Saranac Lake Airport air show next year, since that one has quiet planes, sitting on the ground for Ava and Carter to explore. They did not have one this year because of runway construction. Bummer.

Onto other topics: Reading. I put 2 words up on the refrigerator, AVA and MOM. I then asked Ava what they were. “Ava and Mom” she said with a big grin. Then I put up STOP. She got that one too. Aside from my excitement that she was getting the idea, this totally rocked my convictions about how kids read. Because when I put up another easy word (I cannot remember which one, but it was not familiar to her in written form—something like BAT or ME) and asked her what it was, no dice. I did not expect her to get it, but when I showed her how to sound it out (I know it is very early to ask her to do that, I was just seeing what she would do…), she did not get the idea. Even when I said MMMM EEEEE…MMM EEEE…MM EEE…M EE…she still did not ‘hear’ the word that I was saying. This experience will be familiar to Michaela and my mother—remember “Bird-duh”?

Originally, when I had heard the debate about phonics vs. whole language, I had a hard time accepting that kids really did recognize whole words and that teaching the sounds of letters was not as important. To be precise, I thought that both approaches sounded pretty good, but that both should be used in tandem. But I did have more doubt for the whole language approach. It must just be my scientific reductionist nature. But now I have more doubt for the phonics approach. Not that phonics should not be a part of the learning process, but I am gathering that it might be something that comes to be understood after the gist of reading is obtained. And then that night, as I read, I tried to think about how I was reading. This was remarkably hard, and I was already biased, but I certainly do not piece together each letter individually, even with a new word. The only time I do that is when I am really trying to grasp the pronunciation. I am fairly certain that I am looking at the word and breaking it into familiar letter groupings. It is all very interesting. At least I have been doing what the whole language people advocate, just because it is fun to have Ava interact with the books that I read to her. Always question your assumptions.

But then, she is doing the virtual opposite when it comes to music. She listens to her songs and asks me what each and every sound is. I do not ever remember thinking about this. To me, music was a whole experience, and I never analyzed it. But I am not auditory in the least. Ava is. And she listens so carefully, and I have to really be on my toes, because I need to know what each and every instrument is (and explain it to her too). I find it very interesting that she can hear individual layers of sound in a relatively complex song. And that she is motivated to do so.

The other day she asked me “mommy, what is a train?” I said “you know what a train is!” And then she said “NO! A TRANE!” And then I remembered to substitute ‘c’ for ‘t’ and realized that she was talking about a crane. I had to talk about cranes (the machinery) for hours. And only now am I wondering if she meant the bird. I will ask her tomorrow.

Carter is really truly walking now, albeit with a lot of falls. But he can navigate turning and relatively long distances. The funniest thing is that we have a radio flyer trike (it is essentially a ride-on, with no pedals) that he zooms around on, with remarkable agility. We actually have two, since the first was Ava’s and we had a real proprietary issue with it. Now they both roll around the house at crazy speeds. Ava got hers at 18 months, and was not proficient on it for a while after that—or at least not motivated to be proficient since I made the mistake of pushing her on it in the beginning. Carter, on the other hand, screams and pushes at your hand if you so much as dare to help him. He is also a big fan of driving the chairs and small tables around the house. Between him moving furniture for ambulatory purposes and Ava moving furniture for architectural purposes, my living room is in a constant state of upheaval.

As for our various science projects, we now have 4 chrysalides (yes, I looked up the plural form of chrysalis, because chryisalises was just not right—what I learned was this: chrysalis has only the Latin plural, but chrysalid, which means the same as chrysalis, takes the English plural, chrysalids), and there is one more caterpillar doing its thing. Our robins have grown up and left their nest on top of the exhaust fan, a remarkably interesting place to build a home. I wonder if they will always have a fondness for the smell of bacon. Our garden is growing, though nothing is quite ready, so interest has waned.

Rose has a sore foot and we brought her to the vet only to learn that it was potentially an osteosarcoma. Potentially means most likely. So on Wednesday she is going in for x-rays to confirm and surgery to amputate her toe. She got some killer pain meds and is suddenly the dog she used to be. I had attributed her odd behavior to age, and now I am realizing that it was pain. Poor thing.

One last note: Everyone must must must read “Garbage Land” by Elizabeth Royte. Aside from being ridiculously entertaining, it is a real eye-opener.

carter is really going for the walking thing. he is so proud of himself, and can nearly get across the room. but what is really great is that he can catch himself when he is about to fall, and get back in an upright position.

i cut his hair yesterday, and he looks so very cute. amazingly different. now he looks like a boy again.

regarding ava's lack of kinesthetic awareness...i am not trying to say she is clumsy, or not athletic. she is extremely athletic. but she is extremely in her head, and that sometimes interferes with her physical presence.

We went to the Visitor Interpretive Center today for the “Wildlife Festival” – this was pretty cool, very fun for the kids. Low-key. The best part was the musician who had a guitar, a banjo, 2 different dulcimers, a fiddle, AND taught us how to play the spoons. Both kids were thrilled. I learned that 2 spoons can occupy Carter for a long time.

Then afterwards, we were walking along Stanley Drive on a mission for more milkweed for our caterpillars (we got a chrysalis!!!!!!!!!) and two kids came running up the driveway of the camp 2 doors down, yelling “stop! We know you!!!” Turns out they saw us at the festival, and wanted to meet us, since they were also on a milkweed mission. We were invited down to their camp, and Ava had a great time with the 8-year old girl and her 5-year old brother. I was happy to meet our neighbors.

Though I was not thrilled at the slow and tortured dissection of a crayfish that the 2 older kids engaged in. Ava took it in reserved stride, and actually ended up finding some enthusiasm for it, so on the way home we had a little Buddhism-oriented chat about the principle of ahimsa, (non-harming). I was astonished that the kid’s mother was fine with it when she announced “and now we are going to KILL it!” I would have blown a gasket. Fine, it is a crayfish, and people kill them all the time, but not for the sheer pleasure of simply killing. This was a bit morbid, as far as I was concerned.

On to other topics: Ava is confirming her status as a ‘sensitive’ child. It just seems (and always has seemed) that everything is heightened for her. Loud noises are louder, hurts hurt more, tastes taste more, bright light is brighter, smells smell more. Lately, when she has hurt herself, she has essentially overreacted. But I think it is an overreaction relative to what we experience. She cut her hand the other day, and screamed for close to ½ hour. And I think it really did hurt her. I do not think she was blowing it out of proportion because she was tired or hungry or whatever. Several times she stopped to breath, and she said quite clearly, “mom, it REALLY hurts.” I guess this is what a low pain threshold is.

For someone who runs while looking over her shoulder, this is not good.

Carter had his lead levels tested (part of the standard 1-year old physical) and after much hand wringing on my part for no adequate reason other than fear, the letter came, and he was perfectly fine. So, all of that dirt eating he participated in was not damaging. Let’s hear it for clean dirt.

He spent the entire day laughing – and it is a new laugh. Very much like Ava’s hee hee hee hee, done with an intake of breath, not out. He just practiced and practiced at every opportunity. He’s getting better with the walking, though he sort of goes sideways. He is a bit lopsided anyway, with his right foot rotated almost 90 degrees when he walks, so it stands to reason that he would go in the direction it is pointing. Once he is stable on his feet, I will see if there really is an issue or if it is just a matter of developing the strength to straighten out.

The difference between Ava and Carter is so incredible. Carter is SO intent on his body--he has such an awareness of it. I think that is kinesthetic awareness, if I am remembering correctly. This translates into a lot of good saves on his part. Nearly every time I think he is going to fall, he manages to protect himself quite well.

Ava, on the other hand, is so not intent on her body. She hurls herself through space without a second's thought about where she is in relation to solid objects, including the earth itself. I swear to god, she rides her trike looking over her shoulder. I have to constantly remind her that her eyes need to go in the same direction as her feet. She is constantly thinking about everything else, and clearly not about something so mundane as her own physical body. This translates into a lot of crashes. And a lot of wincing on Mom's part.

Ava figured out that I can tell her stories, even if we are not in the vicinity of a book. This puts the pressure on me to come up with good stories, but so far, I think I have done pretty well. We have a runnning series about Joe and Lucy the bear cubs that get into all sorts of predicaments in their home way out in Jackson Hole, WY, and the retelling of the stories over and over allows me to refine them much as a creative writing course does. It is hard work coming up with novel plots. Dad, your Flopsy and Mopsy stories were always appreciated, but now I appreciate them even more. (and I doubt I could ever come up with a better story than the one where they have to sew their cottontail back on!)

Their immense contribution to the study of genetics aside, I can say that I have truly developed an extraordinary loathing for fruit flies. I never was chummy with them, but also never felt this much animosity. Nothing can be on our counters for even 5 minutes. I cannot even cook without them reappearing. I have nothing out, I swear. There are no hidden bags of potatoes under a sink (a memorable discovery in my [male] friend's kitchen several years ago), there is no fruit, no dried fruit, nothing nothing nothing. And yet they are lying in wait, as if they are convinced that I really am going to forget about them and recreate the fruit bowl on the counter. Last night was the last straw. I emptied the diaper bag, and put the contents in their various assigned places--the snacks and drinks in the kitchen, clothes in the dresser, etc. Well, the sippy cup was on the counter for oh, I don't know, 10 minutes? When I got to it, there they were. Not only swarming, but climbing IN AND OUT of the holes in the mouthpiece. *GAG* *GAG* *GAG*

I hate them.

Carter is trying to walk desperately, and Ava helps him by holding his hands and walking backwards. Or running backwards actually. I told her to slow down and not to pull him, and it turns out that she was trying to keep up with him. When he does piece this together, I am in a lot of trouble.

We went to Fish Creek Campground today--they have a day use area, and for the outrageous fee of 6$, we are allowed to use it. It was very nice, and Ava and Carter went in the water, then on the playground and then Ava rode her trike on the bike path while I pushed Carter in the stroller. She did really well, only complaining a little bit about being tired. And I think she really was tired, since she had been going strong for a while. The only downside to the whole experience was the smoking mothers at the playground. And I would not really even feel the need to vent, because I am so used to it at other playgrounds, but this time the cigarette was literally 5 inches from my face, and thus awfully close to Carter's face as well. The woman was looking for her child and wandered over next to me and as I bent down to pick Carter up, she lowered her smoking hand right by my head. HELLO? I got an offhand "sorry" and that was that. I wanted to scream at her. I mean, if she wants to destroy the lungs and brain of her own child, that is awful, and irresponsible, and in my opinion should be illegal, but don't blow smoke in MY kid's face. I know that smokers are addicted, and I know it is hard to quit, and so on, but I will never understand why smokers light up in proximity to their kids. It is not just about modeling poor behavior, but my god, they are causing irreversible damage to the child's little body! And then they wonder why their kids are chronically ill. But even more astonishing to me is when they do it in proximity to someone else's child. I really don't care if someone smokes. Just keep it away from those who cannot get up and walk away from the toxic cloud. I know that I am not writing anything new and noteworthy, but I was so outraged this afternoon.

All that said, today was a good day with Ava. Only a few moments of mild defiance, nothing to get worked up over. The only tears we had today were over the cheddar bunnies that hit the dirt and that I refused to let her pick up and eat. Lately that has been an issue--she cannot leave something that she dropped on the ground. She desperately wants to pick it up and eat it. Sort of an extension of the "that's mine!" response. This happened with a red skittle that I tossed in the bushes one day, and she lost her mind--despite having about 5 more red skittles in her possession. Then she panicked over a piece of popcorn that she dropped at the hospital. She swooped down to retrieve it and popped it in her mouth beforeI could get to her. I told her what I thought of that, which was that she had possibly just eaten someone else's vomit germs. It gave her pause, but not enough regret to stop picking food up off the ground. Hence, today and the dusty cheddar bunnies. However, she did not pitch a huge fit, because when she started, I said "where are your crocs?" and that made her spin around and run off in search of those little sandals that are almost the most important thing in the universe to her at this point.

The whole point of this is that she and I had a good day--we got lots of snuggle time, lots of book time, lots of outside time, and lots of chatting time. I have concluded that the behavior issues that I am seeing have a lot to do with anxiety over growing up. Lots of things are happening now that she is three--little things, like getting to chew gum, and huge things, like school starting. I get the impression that she is pretty conflicted over all of it. The good part to that is that she appears to be less influenced by Carter--not as jealous. I think.

Who knows. It is all such a mystery, and generally all I want to do is get through the day successfully, like today. If I can do that, we are all in a good place.

carter walked yesterday! well, he took 5 steps! then plunk. then up! then three steps! then plunk. then he remembered that he could crawl. and he abandoned the effort for the time being.

on a less exciting note (and slightly more traumatic for ava) i squished one of her caterpillars this morning. this was extremely upsetting for her--trembling lower lip and all. i felt AWFUL.

oh, and when she sees or hears something really silly, she laughs a silly little "ha ha ha," slaps her knee and then says "oh heaven's for sakes!!"

it took me forever today to finally figure out how to occupy ava. some days it is easier than others, and some days it is more difficult. today was on the difficult side of the spectrum. i pulled out her favorite--a glueing and cutting project, and she lasted about 5 minutes. everything i tried just did not engage her. and then i looked at the container of utensils that sits next to the stove (spoons, whisks, spatulas etc), and thought, "gee, this has been bugging me for a while. it is due for a good scrubbing, inside and out..." and then it hit me. bucket of soapy water, container of instruments of every variety, sunshine--what could be better? they did not exactly get clean, but she spent a good hour and a half finding all sorts of uses for them. when i hear her chatting to herself, i know we have hit the jackpot.

and then this afternoon, she devised her own occupation. she has a hobby horse--a stick with a horse head on it--and periodically she lavishes all sorts of attention on it--feeding it, watering it, washing it, etc. today she went outside, and i saw her talking to it and bringing it to the grass (the 3 tufts of grass that we have in the sunny part of the yard), bringing it to the bucket of water, to the baby pool, and so on. and then she became very absorbed in another bucket, putting all sorts of items in it, mixing, adding water, chattering away the whole time. when i asked her what she was doing, she proudly stood up and said "i am making soup for my horse!" it just must be universal. every single child must have an inborn compulsion to make "soup" out of whatever ingredients might be at hand. and ava was going to town. she was incredibly busy, incredibly serious, and incredibly determined. she would march around, looking at the ground, see a pinecone and say to herself "oh, this is great, i will put a pinecone in. this will make it really good..." and then she would march on over to her bowl. it was very fun to watch, especially because i was bowled over by her imagination. this was real. she had completely entered another world where she was concocting something exquisite for her horse, and it was exciting, and satisfying and fun. and suddenly i grasped a little memory of what it was like to do that as a child--to want a certain reality so badly that you truly lose yourself and the world around you to imagination. how wonderful.

and then, as i was reflecting on all of this, she came over to me with a spoon laden with sand, wood chips and water, and said "mommy, would you like some of these delicious french juices?"

french juices??????????

i think i have officially lost my mind, somewhere in the depths of mommyland. tonight, after putting the kids to bed, which entails being with them until they are both asleep--generally nursing cater, i put down my book, looked around at carter, made sure he was comfortable, went over to ava, removed the books strewn around her and tucked her in, then i turned to the doll--THE DOLL!--and straightened HER blanket and pillow. at least i did not bend over and kiss her goodnight.

we are now on our 3rd caterpillar. or paterpillar, if you prefer. it will be a miracle if any monarch butterflies emerge this year.

carter's birthday is approaching, and i have absolutely NO idea what i am going to do. i am birthdayed out. bad sign. bad precedent. must swing into gear and pull out all the stops!

ava is slipping into defiant mode. it is her new way of asserting herself. not that she was ot defiant before, but it was immature defiance--screaming, kicking, tantruming--you know, the terrible twos. this is new. this is the tenacious threes. this is the silent stubborn stares. this is truly awful. "ava, say thank you" stare...stare...chew lip...look at ceiling...stare...stare...stare..."ava, you need to say thank you" stare...stare...stare and on and on. so, we left. you don't say thank you, you forfeit the thing you are supposed to say thank you for. but it is so exhausting to have such a face off. i refuse to get mad though. well, that is not true. i refuse to display anger, even though i am technically mad.

so, the other thing carter has been doing is drawing. i know ava did not scribble at this age, but i think he has been watching her, and knows the drill. it is pretty fun. though he still cannot figure out which he likes better, eating the crayon or drawing with it.

we are still coming down from the excitement of the birthday party--ava wants to do it again and again, and i am still glowing with pride over the compliment my friend jen gave me--she looked at me and said "geez erin, it is like you have a little school here!" nothing could have made me happier.

ava is totally cutting it up on the ski skimmer--she knows how to carve turns now. next year she is going to be jumping the wake--toe side. today was pretty fun. we woke up and immediately headed down to the dock, where ava and i put our feet in and chatted while i drank my coffee. then we decided to swim, and ava found it pretty funny that i went in the water with my jammies on. we came back up to the house, packed up to go skimming/boarding/skiing, left the house in a state of total disarray, and never walked back inside until 1 pm. we went out on the boat, went to town, got lunch, went to donnelley's, and then played outside until a random thunderstorm drove us inside. i put carter down for his nap, confronted the disaster that was our house, made dinner ahead of time, then the sun came out so back outside we went. we got new sand for the sandbox, so the kids are really adoring that. (leave it to me to go buy 300 lbs of sand on the hottest day of the summer for 2 years in a row now...they truly hate me at aubuchon's hardware). back inside for dinner, tubs, playing, etc., and back outside for our evening 'raspberry walk' -- which turned into a monarch butterfly caterpillar walk. i never thought i would find something that interested ava more than raspberries on a walk, but lo and behold, there is a milkweed patch on the side of the road, and it was covered in monarch butterfly caterpillars. this is really cool for several reasons: 1. they are neat caterpillars, very caterpillar-y looking, with yellow and black stripes, and big antennae on both ends. 2. you can literally see them munch munch munching the leaves. 3. there were an absolute TON and they are quite big. 4. they are monarchs, practically the coolest insect as far as i am concerned, and gave us plenty to discuss (cocoons, migration patterns, milkweed, mexico, predator evasion, etc). 5. i was instantly transported back to my ranger rick days and experienced a rush of childhood excitement since as a 10 year old i was obsessed with monarchs and never, ever, in all of my milkweed hunting days, did i ever actually see the caterpillars. until today. ava was quick to note my excitement, and decided that she needed to adopt one, so we have a covered bucket with some milkweed and various sticks and "ava the caterpillar" out on the porch. i do hope we get a cocoon, it will be very very cool to watch.

what a great little experience. there is so much for them to learn. i LOVE teaching them too. i guess there was a reason i tried on nearly every major there was to be had in college. if only i could have my own little school!

yesterday, out by the kiddie pool, carter stood up by himself, with nothing to hold on to! he was very busy with the hose, and i think he just did it, without thinking about it. he then moved to take a step, but reality came crashing down on him and he sat down on hisa bottom. but today he has done it about 5 more times. never inside, but always out in the dirt. and this time, he is thinking about it. you can see it in his face when he stands up--sort of like, "huh! would you look at that!"