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!)