Locks of Love

While I grow a pretty creepy looking mustache (see this blog's maiden post), I am definitely not follically challenged up top.  After letting the typical 3-months go by without a haircut, I reached deep inside and decided to see if I could go 4-months.  Chaos ensued.  

This is what Afton thought of the whole thing.
Notice the impressive height of the hair. 
I'm especially proud of the nice "wave" I had going on out back.  Part mullett, part ponytail, but all macho.
Anyway, this is the sight Heather had to wake up to these past mornings.  Its kind a hybrid of an Asian treasure troll and Simba from the Lion King.  The one advantage of this hair is that while I am only 5'9", with the fro I was a good 6'1" (*Fletch reference)

Hippity, Hoppity Easter!

Here are the 10 things that I discovered/re-discovered on our recent trip to the Garden of Eden (aka Oregon) over Easter weekend:

1.  Stranger anxiety is (basically) gone!

Having just been liberated from the 8-hour captivity of her carseat, Afton crawled over to her grandpa, tugged on his jeans, and beamed when he pulled her onto his lap.  

2.  You really can be bounced for hours on an exercise ball.  

3.  So help us, Afton's first word may be "moo."

After her first experience feeding the cows, Grandpa Reed and Grandma Debbie worked on her "moo."  At the moment, it sounds either like, "uhmmmm" or "um-m-bf-oo-a."  Close.  Very close. 

4.  My mother has a few sweaters that my Great-Grandma Mandy made for me when I was a baby.  

Afton got to wear one with the dress that Grandma Debbie got her for Easter.

5.  Uncles really are the greatest.  

Seriously, who else would let you explore the inside of their mouth?

or drive you 8 hours from Zion to the Garden of Eden?

6.  Afton loves kids.

At my cousin's wedding reception, another cousin's little one discovered Afton, crawled over to her, and lovingly mauled her with a kiss.  Although momentarily overcome with shock, not much later Afton saw the baby's older brothers wrestling their way out of the door.  She scurried her little body after them. 

7. Babies really do make the best show-and-tell.
Before we left, Afton and I visited Grandma Debbie at the grade school where she works.  We interrupted every class -- and the reading specialist, and the assistants, and the front office staff.  Second grade was particularly enthused about her.
You can't see it very well, but Afton is wearing her visitor's badge around her neck.  

8.  You  must have a copy of your kid's birth certificate to haul them onto a plane.  Whoops.

If I had a picture for this one, it would be my panic-stricken face.  As we checked our luggage at the airline counter, the conversation with the airline lady went like this:

Airline Lady:  You're traveling with a child?

Me:  Yes.

Airline Lady: Okay, let me see your verification of the child's age.

Me:  Uh, like a birth certificate?

Airline Lady: Yes.

Me:  Uh...I don't have it.

Airline Lady: Immunization records then.

Me: Um...I don't have that either.

Airline Lady: [looks at me]

Me:  I don't have anything. [half-hearted smile]

Airline Lady: [peers around the counter at a not-so-patient Afton still strapped into her carseat]

At that point my stomach dropped.  It's no mystery that Afton looks nothing like me.  After showing her to some coworkers once, one of them actually asked, "Did she get any characteristic from you?"  I thought about saying, "Well, she doesn't have a blue bottom."  But I didn't think that was too convincing, and I certainly didn't think the Airline Lady was going to buy that either.  I waited for the Airline Lady to tell me "tough luck" or to summon security ("ugly white lady attempting to kidnap beautiful half-Asian sensation").  In the end, we were given a boarding pass for Afton after a stern warning.  

9.  Afton likes the window seat. 
10.  Tony is a great dad.

When we got home, Tony had an Easter basket ready for Afton.  (Yes, he had heard about how much she liked big bouncy balls.)  Just before this picture Afton had escaped mid-diaper change to scuttle toward her awaiting presents.  I figured, what could happen in a minute or two?  When we picked her up, there was a wet circle on the carpet where her little bottom had been.  And thus Tony's weekend (three whole days) of a clean house came to an end.  He didn't complain.  Instead, he just got a sponge and some carpet cleaner.  We love him--very, very much.

I'm not Pioneer Woman?

Last Friday, Tony came home from work with some "weecakies" -- cakepops made by his coworker's wife (http://www.weecakies.blogspot.com/) They were TO DIE FOR and cool looking. I immediately went on her blog, where she mentioned that her inspirations were Pioneer Woman (www.thepioneerwoman.com) and Bakerella (http://bakerella.blogspot.com/).  I left Tony in his mancave (our basement room with the TV) for a while that night to check these ladies out. When he came upstairs, I was looking at Pioneer Woman's photography, and I was in tears.  

Open spaces.  Wow.  (Pioneer Woman is a city girl turned housewife on a cattle ranch in Oklahoma.) I mean, look how far you can see...and no smoggy haze!

Sometimes I am still taken by surprise over the fact that I live in a city, wear a suit to work each day, and go jogging on streets with traffic lights. I always sort of knew growing up that I probably would never live in my hometown as an adult . (It's small, and it has not grown a bit since my dad was in high school--meaning, not a lot of jobs). But even though I knew I'd live somewhere bigger and even though I kept trudging on with that whole law thing, things don't quite feel... normal?  I don't know any way to really describe it except to say, seriously, we have two vehicles and neither one of them is a truck.
(Imagine this truck with a yellowish green paint job and a gun rack, and that's what I drove to high school -- a 1970 Chevrolet, which incidentally, my mother also drove in high school.)

Don't get me wrong. I like my life and I adore Tony. I couldn't imagine being married to anyone else. He makes me laugh--a lot. It's getting close to four years now that he's let me put my icebox feet against his legs each night so they can warm up. And although on matters of health and safety he can be a bit of a nut job, for the most part he's the cucumber cool to my "why don't you think this is a problem?" We're a good mix.

But, we don't own a truck. The view from our living room is a bus stop. We're the weirdos in our neighborhood because we have bottled pears and peaches from our two fruit trees and I like making currant and mint jelly from our currant bush and the mint patch that threatens to overtake our small garden each year.  I only have a few distant memories of the cattle drives that my dad's family used to do--mostly of eating cheetos in the truck with my grandparents and other cousins who were too small to ride a horse--but it's still strange to me that sweet baby Afton won't even have that.  

For now, I'm handling the angst by telling Tony a lot about Pioneer Woman and her website.  (For the record, it hasn't gotten as bad as when I was on maternity leave and the only thing I did was nurse our leisurely eater, Afton, for a bazillion hours a day while watching Jon & Kate Plus 8 re-runs, which made me tell Tony about Jon and Kate as if they were people I actually knew.)  To his credit, he does a really good job at pretending to be interested.  

For the handful of cousins who read this, though, check her out.  Her photography makes cows look downright beautiful (and that's a feat).

More open spaces... sigh.

Early Spring

Some random photos of the latest happenings in our household.

Enjoying a beautiful Sunday afternoon outside.

Our little Pebbles Flintstone.

Practicing walking with Grandma Debbie.
Afton with Grandma Debbie and Grandpa Reed right before bedtime.  We loved having Heather's parents with us and always feel sad when they leave.  
Afton and I during lunch.
Pebbles finding something she was interested in.  
Afton looking like her Dad.