Bears, bugs and heat

Maddie and I are back home after two days hiking in the mountains. A pretty wimpy trip, I think, but we had our reasons for coming back.

This isn't one of them, but the most exciting feature of our trip was the bears that we saw. I've never seen many bears in past trips. In some places I've hiked out west, they still get shot so they're pretty skittish. Which is just as well since grizzlies still roam parts of the Rockies that we've hiked, and I don't want anything to do with a grizzly. Abby and I did see bears in an almost empty campground in Shenandoah N.P. during a trip just after 9/11. But those bears were so tame, they almost didn't count - they cavorted and wrestled in the campsites around us, and the ranger told us to bang pots together if they got too close.

Yesterday, Maddie and I were hiking up a steep hillside to a knob where we planned to camp. I was zoning out, as I often do when going uphill, when Maddie crested a little rise, turned the corner, and stiffened as she does when she's about to chase a rabbit or a squirrel. I told her to wait and, as I caught up to her, I saw a brown thing about 20 feet away, just below the trail. "That's too big to be a squirrel," I thought, immediately followed by "Oh crap, that's a bear cub." I then spotted another cub about 5 feet further on, just above the trail. We never saw the mama bear because the cubs took off away from us, while Maddie and I immediately skedaddled back down the trail. After about 100 yards, we stopped and started singing, yodelling and generally making a lot of noise. Now, I don't mind bears, but I don't want to run into a mother bear who's protecting her cubs. We eventually headed on, still singing, and the bears were gone.

Then today, we reached a four-way trail intersection. As I peered down the other trails, not the ones we were going to take, I spotted a big brown thing in the trail about 50 feet away. Another bear. And this one was pretty big. As we started up our route, the bear looked up at us and bolted, amazingly quickly, into the woods away from us. And then, when we were almost back to the trailhead, I saw another medium sized bear down the slope about 100 feet from us. He seemed aware of our presence - after all, I whistled to see if I could scare him off - but wasn't too concerned and went on tearing at his tree.

So after years of no bears, we see four in a two day span. Like I said, I don't mind bears - except for a mother bear with cubs - but I don't need to be reminded that they're wandering the woods while I'm sleeping.

But that's not the reason we came back early. Instead, it was the heat (90 degrees or so) and the bugs. And not the gnats and mosquitoes which were really annoying as they formed little clouds around our heads, but were more or less tolerable. The main problem was the ticks. I hate ticks. Even if they didn't carry Lyme disease, they're nasty little critters. And we saw more ticks in the last two days than I've seen in my entire life. It started when I picked one off Maddie after we set up our tent. Then, when we got in the tent, they were everywhere. Not swarms of them, but every 15 minutes or so, I'd spot one on the outside of the tent. I don't know if we were under a "tick nest", if those even exist, in a tree, but it was amazing how they'd drop down on us. It got even worse when I started having to pick one off me every 30 minutes or so inside the tent and toss it out the door. Apparently, Maddie must have become a magnet for them (as evidenced by the fact that I picked about 30 of them off her when we got back to the car - astonishingly disgusting which warranted a bath when we got home and may necessitate a trip to the vet before Abby and the kids return), and she brought them into the tent where they meandered around looking for a better meal before settling on me. I had visions of waking up with a dozen ticks attached to me. While that didn't happen because none of them actually latched on (as far as I know), I still had a restless night, periodically feeling a tickle on my arm or leg at which point I'd turn on my headlamp, grab one of the suckers, and unzip the door to toss it out. It was almost indescribably unpleasant. I suspect that I'll wake up tonight reaching to pick some imagined tick off my leg. Given that I probably didn't get all of the ticks off Maddie when we got back to the car and the bath might not have gotten the rest, it might not be imagined, but don't tell Abby that.

Peace, quiet and sleep

Discover Uncle Tupelo!

Abby and the kids are gone. At 7:00 AM this morning, I dropped them off at the airport, along with Grandma Nancy, to catch a plane to Minnesota. For the next 5 days, they'll be hanging out at Green Lake, MN while Maddie and I will be kid free (here and here are some old posts related to previous trips to Green Lake). They're gone. It's a bit hard to believe. As the barber at work put it, "How did you manage that?" Then the guy at Trader Joes asked, "What are you going to do?" What are we going to do? Indeed.

Before getting into our plans, I should note that it's not as if Abby is involuntarily taking the kids with her. Trips to Green Lake are a longstanding tradition in her family. But for various reasons (specifically, it's a bit boring), trips to Green Lake don't appeal to me very much. Given the outrageous price of a plane ticket to Minnesota and the fact that Margaret needs a ticket, I decided to bail on the trip this year (after all, Green Lake is a bit boring.) But the kids had to go. So I grudgingly allowed Abby to take them with her.

As for those of us left behind, we're heading to the mountains of northwestern Virginia tomorrow morning. In the past, I've taken multiple hiking trips with my brothers into mountains all across the western U.S. Recently, for obvious reasons, those trips have become less practical. So I suffer in two ways. First, I can't take trips with my brothers. Second, on the rare occasion that I'm able to go backpacking, I have to take more modest trips somewhere in the Virginia, West Virginia, etc. area. And, frankly, that area isn't nearly as exciting as mountains in the west. (Here's an earlier post with pics from an excellent trip to Wyoming.) Nevertheless, Maddie and I are heading to the George Washington National Forest where we plan to hit a number of trails. It might not be relaxing in one sense because I'll be walking with a big pack, but in another sense, with no kids, it's inherently relaxing.

Why the song at the beginning of this post? Well, when I took backpacking trips with my brothers in the past, we would always throw in Alt-Country music to get us in the mood. And Uncle Tupelo, the source of the above song, is perhaps the greatest Alt-Country group ever. Listening to this type of music with its high, lonesome sound, especially when driving through the backwoods of Virginia, is a great experience. And makes me feel as if Dan and Steve are with me and Maddie, even if they're miles away.

Screaming Eagles

Today, we went to a DC United (aka Screaming Eagles) soccer game. For no particular reason, I'm something of a fan of DC United and have been thinking about trying to take Margaret to a game for a while. Next weekend when David Beckham comes to town could be fun, but Abby and the kids will be in Minnesota (Maddie and I will either head to the mountains or will enjoy some blessed sleep at home.) I looked through the schedule for the rest of the season and decided that there aren't many other games that would work given our tight bedtime schedule. Although the weather report predicted thunderstorms, we decided we'd chance it. So we took the Metro to the game, lots of fun in itself, and scalped some tickets in the shade. (Also, it didn't rain at all.)

We had a pretty good time. DC United is still playing in RFK Stadium, the old Redskins' stadium, which is a pretty cavernous venue to watch soccer, especially when the crowd is the typical, smaller U.S. soccer crowd. The lower sections directly across the field from us were pretty raucous with lots of chants and songs which was fun to watch. But overall the crowd was pretty sedate. Margaret wore her Azurri (Del Piero) jersey that an Italian friend brought back for us after the last World Cup. Alas, it didn't do much good for Italy who lost to Spain in Euro 2008 today (we did get some good comments from people.) We sat in a section full of young girls in soccer uniforms and at some point, I turned to Abby and said, "This may be a preview of our future life." Margaret just gaped at the girls around us and mimicked them by waving the free towel that we got at the gate. For some reason, Margaret was more fidgety at this game than she was at the baseball game. About the only thing that really settled her down was her first bucket of popcorn. After an initial hesitant taste, she sat and wolfed it down. DC United won 3-1, but the game was uninspiring with the Screaming Eagles giving up one of the worst goals that I've ever seen. Perhaps it's better to watch on TV and be able to do laundry during the game than to actually go to one.



Some other tidbits:

• For some inexplicable reason, Margaret has been calling her mama "Abby." E.g. "Abby, Margaret needs more milk!" It sort of reminds me of the Simpsons where Bart always calls Homer by his first name. We're not quite sure how to break her of this habit, but even Mr. Ty at daycare commented on it.
• We started a new game today called "Tell me something silly." This involves Papa saying something such as "Teddy is a...big girl." Or "Maddie is a...kitty cat." It's a bit tricky since I have to mention two things, both of which Margaret not only knows, but also knows don't go together. If I do a good job, Margaret will giggle uncontrollably at the absurdity of the statement. It turns out that this works pretty well (at least it did today) to settle Margaret down when she's fussing. And it gets her to grin for the camera - in a few of the later pictures in the sequence posted above, I'm telling Margaret silly things to make her laugh.
  

More sayings

Since my last post, a few more sayings have popped up:

• "Secret love for Nasser"
• "Another country heard from"

Car show?

Margaret said something today that was quite funny. Now, it's a bit of an inside joke, so I'll have to explain. Abby's family, beginning at least with her maternal grandparents, has lots of silly sayings. These sayings are used in all sorts of circumstances, and the outsider (i.e. me) is often amazed when different family members will toss out the same sayings in certain situations. As some examples (these can be pretty cryptic and context clearly matters, so I won't try to explain them):

• "Don't make no bull moves!"
• "Mind your hat when you leave your seat."
• "I'm a little stiff from bowling."
• "Here's your hat, what's your hurry?"
• "Early ripe, early rot."
• "Lassiter, roll the stone!"
• "Slow train through Arkansas."

I've often encouraged Abby's family to compile a compendium of these types of sayings. After all, they're priceless inside jokes that no one outside of the family can understand and can lead to guffaws (within the family) when properly used. At other times, they're simply tossed out (in context) with little notice.

When I first started dating Abby, I learned some of these quotes. One just picks them up after a while, basically through osmosis. At some point early in my relationship with Abby when we all lived in Chicago, Abby, her sister Eleanor, and I were driving somewhere in Chicago (in "Bluey" - how's that for an inside reference?). Since we were in a hurry, I tossed out a saying that I'd heard Abby say. Eleanor was impressed, especially with the proper use. At that point, I knew that I'd scored a coup with Abby's family. Smooth sailing from that point on, I figured. And I was right (at least until we started talking politics, long after I was firmly ensconced.)

What did I say and what does that have to do with Margaret? Well, today when Abby was taking Margaret out of the car to go to daycare, Margaret said:

"Go go go auto show."

This was part of the motto of an auto show that was held way back in Chicago during Abby's childhood. The full motto was "Let's go go go to the auto show." Followed by "To see America on wheels." This phrase is appropriately used to suggest speed when in a hurry. (The correct use would really involve a call-and-response in which one person says the first part of the phrase followed someone else saying the second part.)

What's really funny is that Margaret knew this phrase at all. Where the heck did she pick that up? Who knows. And to use it in the proper context? Perfect.

"Back or front"

As is probably the case for any two-year-old, Margaret has numerous original phrases that mean something to her, and thus to us, but are meaningless to outside observers. For example, "Ipsy Spider" refers to the Itsy Bitsy Spider. That phrase arises incessantly when she insists on a replay of her favorite version by Ralph's World (one of those folksy, poppy, rocky groups who play kid's music that also appeals to adults, albeit not because of versions of the "Ipsy Spider" that are played over and over.) (By the way, Margaret started singing B-I-N-G-O in the car today. Abby and I didn't teach her that song, so it's good to know that she's picking up useful skills at daycare.) Another phrase is "down dairs," spoken as two distinct words, which means "downstairs."

One of her key phrases, that I've mentioned before is "back or front." That particular phrase began as a reference to our stroller in which one kid can sit in back and the other in the front. I would ask Margaret if she wanted to sit in back or front (if given the choice, she'll always choose the back), and it stuck. Then she started using the same phrase to apply to any seating arrangement in which one person is behind another. Most notably, bikes. Certainly, when we see a double bike, that's a "back or front." But more commonly, any bike with a kid seat is also a "back or front."

Lately, I've been thinking about trying to get our own "back or front" set up to take Margaret on bike rides. Unfortunately, my existing mountain bike, an old-school Trek, has numerous problems that complicate attachment of a kid's seat. I contemplated buying a new simple bike for the sole purpose of attaching a kid's seat. In a stroke of luck, Maddie and I found a older, but completely serviceable, bike put out with someone's trash during our Friday morning walk. Sure the bike was a bit rusty (especially the chain which had fused in places due to the rust) and the tires were flat, but it worked fine after I cleaned it up.

So on Saturday, Margaret and I took a trip to the 'burbs to buy a seat and a "special hat." After a first unsuccessful stop at Target, which left me concerned that our trip would be a waste of time, we managed to get a perfect "special hat" (i.e. a very adjustable and gender neutral one that Teddy will be able to use someday) and a fine kid's seat at a sporting goods store. It took me three hours, and a trip to the hardware store for more screws, to get the seat attached to the bike. Immediately after I finished, it started to rain.

But we've managed to take a few short rides on our "back or front" over the last two days. Unlike the kids next door, who apparently didn't like their seats too much at first, Margaret loves it. During our first ride on Saturday evening, Margaret requested "go faster Papa." Then at the end of the ride, she wanted to keep going and was so upset when we didn't. This should be the source of great fun in the future.

Last thing: A ketchup update. During a rare trip to Whole Foods (it's near the local hardware store where I had to buy screws for the kid's seat), Margaret and I were able to find an organic ketchup that actually has some nutritional benefits. Made with agave nectar rather than sugar, it actually has a bit of vitamins C and A. Will Maggie like it? I dunno. I tasted it, and it tastes like ketchup, but isn't quite the classic Heinz taste. Hopefully, the palate of a two-year-old isn't developed enough to notice the difference.

Ketchup

So this probably doesn't warrant a new post (especially so soon after one dedicated to the boy), but Margaret loves ketchup. Every time we eat something that warrants the use of ketchup as a condiment, Margaret focuses on the ketchup more than the actual meal. In fact, it gets to the point where the french fries, tater tots, hot dogs, etc. that we're eating for dinner act as a device to transport ketchup to Maggie's mouth, rather than something to eat. After exhausting her supply of ketchup, Margaret will point at her plate and plaintively ask for "more?"

Today we experienced the culmination of Margaret's fondness for ketchup. We were eating hot dogs and tater tots for dinner (since I was feeling tired and lazy). At some point, Margaret requested more ketchup and a spoon. She proceeded to eat her ketchup just like she eats ice cream. Abby was appalled.

Whenever Margaret displays her fondness for ketchup, I always recall the Reagan administration's declaration (prehaps mythical) that ketchup is a vegetable for nutrition purposes. And, apparently, ketchup contains lycopene which is one of those mysterious beneficial substances that can be found in foods. But even still, I can find no nutritional content on the labels of the ketchup that we generally eat. Perhaps we can find a fancy organic version that will provide some nutrients as Maggie shovels it into her mouth. I suspect that if we do, Margaret won't like it as much the current stuff.

The young daredevil

Discover Marvin Gaye!

First, note the new soundtrack, care of my French blogging buddy. (As with the other soundtrack application, who knows how long this will last before some lawyer closes them down. Also, I'm not sure I know exactly how this works since the associated website is French - the French seem very adept at flaunting copyright laws - so I can't read much of what is on it.) Most important in light of the subject matter of this post, please note the title of the song.

As my recent posts suggest, Margaret is generally more interesting than Teddy at this point. After all, she talks a lot and, for better or worse, has started to voice independent opinions, some of which are quite "fascinating."

Teddy, on the other hand, has only recently started to do interesting things. Some examples. He's a pro at sitting up and has started to pull himself up on things (often followed by him toppling over when he gets too ambitious). He can "army crawl" pretty well to get around. He's getting better at putting finger foods in his mouth, although I always discover that he's dropped a lot more in his high chair than I would have thought. He's starting to babble - Da da da is a favorite phrase (prompting "Teddy's silly" from Margaret). He can, with varied success, clap his hands. At the very least, he seems to understand conceptually what he's trying to do. And he watches things around him, especially his sister, much more intently than he did before.

Many of these developments reflect his increased coordination and mobility. The problem is that these skills allow the boy to get in all sorts of trouble. Thinking way back (oh, a bit over a year or so) to when Margaret was in a similar stage, I don't recall being troubled by what she would go after. That has continued to this day, as my sister in Philly noted with some wonderment, since you can plop Margaret in a room with something to occupy her, and you won't feel concerned that she'll start fiddling with the electrical appliances or reaching for knives. It's not that those things aren't intriguing - working the food processor is such fun! Instead, Margaret just doesn't seem inclined to dive right at things that are trouble.

As for Teddy, well, in contrast to his sister, the boy does have a definite eye for trouble. Put him on the floor, and he'll immediately start heading, slowly at this point, towards some inappropriate and potentially dangerous item. Power cords? Love them. Crawling under things to get stuck in awkward positions? Great! We first suspected that he was a troublemaker when he started heading to the (unlit) fireplace every time we put him on the living room floor. At first, we weren't sure if he was exhibiting systematic behavior. "Does he really keep heading towards the fireplace, or is it my imagination?" That question was resolved pretty quickly after a few simple experiments.

At this point, the problem isn't too severe since he can't move quickly enough to get into real trouble before getting scooped up. But, boy, does he show serious determination. And once he gets more mobile, we mave have to seriously secure the house. For Margaret, in contrast, the kiddie gates ended up being a formality - she never showed an inclination to head towards the stairs at full speed. I'm not so sure about Teddy.

Our little consumer of pop culture

It has become apparent that Margaret is a big fan of Dora the Explorer. At some point, she must have been exposed to Dora at school since she started talking about Dora without any introduction from us. Similarly, she knows that Mickey and Minnie Mouse are on her diapers (care of Huggies) without learning about them from us and will occasionally object if we instead try to put on a (Pampers) diaper with Elmo. But while Mickey and Minnie only come up when we change diapers, Dora has become more central to Margaret's existence. Admittedly, we have recently stoked this interest. A couple of times when I've needed a break, I've pulled up a Dora episode on the Nick Jr. website for Margaret to watch. Once, we also used an online Dora video as an enticement to sit on the potty. And Margaret loves it. She sits quietly and watches with a big grin, occasionally looking around in wonderment at the fun stuff that she's being allowed to view.

This past weekend, we spent a lot of time in Maryland. Now, if we leave the city at all, we typically spend more time in NoVa (northern Virginia) than Maryland since the former is right across the river while a visit to the latter involves various tortuous trips through northwest DC before we get anywhere interesting. But on this "Maryland weekend," we went to Wheaton for dim sum with friends on Saturday morning, went to a party (and got lost on the way) in Bethesda on Saturday night, and visited some friends (and got lost on the way) on Sunday who just bought a lovely (and BIG - we're so jealous) home in Bethesda.

On our way to the first of these trips to Maryland, we stopped at a Target to do our "big box" shopping that is difficult to do in the city. As we walked around the store, Dora was ubiquitous and Margaret spotted her everywhere. Sometimes, we spurred her on. "Who is that on that towel?" I asked, pointing at a big beach towel that we almost bought until I realized that it might cause bath problems if Margaret were to decide that only the Dora towel was acceptable for post-bath drying. "Dora!," Margaret enthusiastically responded. At other times, Margaret spotted Dora on her own. She pointed at some paper cups with Dora on them and yelled "Dora!"

At this point, I'm a bit ambivalent about Margaret's recent introduction to mass pop culture. On the one hand, I know that this type of media worship is inevitable. Kids are simply bombarded with too much marketing to keep this out of their world. And I prefer Dora to Hannah Montana, the appalling Bratz, or lots of other alternatives. (For example, I refuse, I repeat refuse, to take a family vacation to Disney World. Instead, we'll go to Yellowstone. Or the Grand Canyon. That's my current position, and I'm sticking to it until it becomes an existential battle as may happen sometime in the future.) On the other hand, I'd prefer Margaret to appreciate her McCloskey, Dr. Seuss and other books rather than watching some silly TV show. Still, it's really cute how excited she gets when she sees Dora. After waking up on Saturday afternoon for a stop at a CVS pharmacy following our car ride back from Maryland, a still groggy Margaret chortled and gleefully squealed "Dora!" while pointing at a gift certificate with a picture of Dora on it in a small display. And, when she wasn't carrying her minature Lego Dora around, she spent the weekend asking "Where's Dora?"

A couple last points. First, please don't innundate us with Dora stuff in response to this post. (Also, NO BRATZ. EVER.) While it's cute to a point, and we'll probably need Dora underwear at some point if it helps with potty training, my tolerance for that sort of stuff is definitely limited. Second, Margaret is still a big fan of her books. She's started trying to "read" Hop on Pop by Dr. Seuss on her own. As the structure of the book encourages, she gets certain key words ("cup" "pup" "red" "hop" "pop"), but doesn't really get the "narrative" of the book, to the extent that it exists at all.

Since it was warm today (but not too hot since we've been really lucky so far), we set up the wading pool for the kids. Teddy didn't like it too much, but Margaret had a blast. Here are some pics.