Biker Babe

Afton is turning out to be a little girl who likes her fingernails pink and her motorcycles loud.

A couple months ago, I pointed out a motorcycle to Afton that happened to be driving by our house. She immediately said, "A-nun aunt o-o-di-cle" -- Afton wants a motorcycle.

A few weeks after that, Afton saw a motorcyclist cruising by with a bandana on his head. She turned to me and asked, "Dere A-nun at?" -- Where's Afton's hat? We rummaged through my dresser until we produced a red bandana, and Afton promptly went to the back patio to drive her "motorcycle" around.

But she is no moron. She knows her scooter is not the real thing. A few days ago, over the course of an hour and a half of running errands, she continually pestered me with, "Dere A-nun o-o-di-cle?" At the grocery store checkout she was (almost) in tears over this lack of a personal motorcycle. We're talking some serious moaning.

Tonight she was cruising around the sidewalk on her scooter when a motorcycle pulled up to the stoplight. It was a totally lame motorcycle -- even I could tell that. But Afton stopped in her tracks, stood up, and refused to move until the light turned green. The poor guy did not know what to do with all the gawking. Afton was far from subtle.

Needless to say, I think she and Tony may be taking a trip to the store soon to get a tricycle. Maybe that will satiate her for a while.

Other Summer Stuff

This past summer was full of family, which was an unusual treat for us. Tony's sister and her family were here in Utah for about three month, so we were able to spend a lot of time with "uh-ul Dirt" (Uncle Kurt), "Aunt Ee-a" (Aunt Sylvia), "Dab" (Gavin), "Beelee" (Bailey), "Ah-ju," (Audrey), and "Baby Ah-men" (Baby Erin). (By the end, Afton could actually pretty much pronounce "Audrey.") They came to church with us, which made a world of difference for Afton. For the first time she didn't cry and cry and cry when we dropped her off at nursery -- all because she got to be there with Ah-ju. It was fun to have them over for Sunday dinner, and Afton couldn't get enough swimming in at their hotel pool.

Best of all, for me anyway, was that after Ainsley was born, Kurt and Sylvia would swing by the house and pick up Afton to take along on some of their excursions. Afton loved it. When I would tell her that she was going on a trip with Audrey and Bailey, she'd either run around inside the house like a crazy woman until they arrived or she'd insist that we sit on the porch watching for their van. By the end of the summer, anytime they left in their van, Afton wanted to be in it. I loved it because I could rest, have time with the baby, or just get things done in real time (as opposed to the way time runs when the Aftonator is around). I owe them big time.

Despite all the time we spent together, we evidently did not bust out the camera too much. But here's most of the crew:

We've missed them a lot.

We owe it all to Uncle Jonah

In June, my youngest brother called me up and volunteered to drive me and the kids to our family reunion in Oregon in August. I told him that he was crazy, but we took him up on the offer. It was a fun week away from home.

Uncle Jonah began his duties on Saturday night by watching Ainsley so I could wrangle Afton and pack.

Then he not only entertained Afton at every stop we made en route to Oregon, but he also palled around with her during the week.

Afton enjoyed hanging out with her other cousins, Elsa and Gibson, who were also in Oregon due to the birth of their little sister.

Ainsley got to meet her great grandmother for the first time.

And Afton spent a lot of time cruising around the farm in various vehicles -- Papa Reed's little truck, the big farm truck, Grandma Debbie's SUV, and the four-wheeler. Only the tractor remained untouched.

By the end of the week, Afton didn't even bother to ask to play with me anymore. She realized that Grandma Debbie was a much better playmate. She preferred Grandma Debbie at bedtime too, largely because Grandma Debbie's interpretation of "She needs to go to bed in about 5 minutes" usually meant going to bed in another 30. (That's what grandmas are for, right?)

And little Ainsley spent so much time sleeping on her grandfather, she began to smell like his cologne.

So thank you to Uncle Jonah for braving the trip and acting as our chauffeur. And thank you to my parents for letting me a nap on occasion, entertaining Afton so thoroughly for the week, and holding Ainsley so much.

True Love: The Musical

Tony hates musicals. It has something to do with too much drama and bursting forth into song not being realistic. With all due respect, his dislike of musicals is a bit irrational because he loves the opera. I’ve reminded him on more than one occasion that an opera is just a musical in a language we can’t understand.

I like musicals, but it’s a different experience to watch them with Tony. It took him about two minutes to despise Maria from the Sound of Music. He calls her “the whore nun.” The visual and musical frenzy of Moulin Rouge just blew his mind. I think John Travolta in Hairspray – in both drag and a fat suit – still leaves Tony speechless.

But as much as Tony hates musicals, he loves Afton, and Afton loves to dance. When Hairspray was on TV a while ago, Afton immediately ran to her room, grabbed her tutu, put it on, and danced around the living room. She spent all the time between the show’s musical numbers saying, “More dance, more dance, more dance.” Tony – sensing a number of dance recitals, amateur theater productions, and the future defilement of his new HD TV during evenings spent watching High School Musical 1, 2, and 3 – simply sighed.

This past week Tony did what any father who hates musicals but truly loves his daughter who loves to dance would do. He came home from a trip to the library with a DVD: Grease. Afton and her tutu have danced again.

Dancing in the Rain

Yesterday the heavens opened and dropped a bunch of rain, cooling the temperature down from near 100 degrees to maybe 85 or 90. Afton took full advantage.

It didn't take her long to be joyously soaked. She also had a partner in crime, who was trying to get a little yard work done.

But, Afton managed to distract him from that from time to time for a little romp around the yard.
Yes, this is the rough stretch of the summer, the stretch where we check the weather report in a vain hope that the temperature won't crack above the 80s and where we find little consolation in the fact that we don't have much humidity like the east coast or the fact that it's not 110 like Vegas or Phoenix. It's hot. It will be hot for weeks to come. I suppose this is what makes mid-September weather seem so glorious.

A little more of Afton and Ainsley

Afton returned from her grandparents this past week with a little darker tan, a few mosquito bites, a new small owie (which she was very proud of -- it even had a bandaid), and pink pink fingernails and toenails. When the pink nail polish wore off due to a couple baths, she insisted I repaint them. Luckily I had one crusty bottle of pink nail polish in the bottom of a random drawer.

Needless to say, Afton is turning into a little girl.

As for me, I don't know what day it is, or often what time it is, but it's been a good couple weeks with Ainsley. No, no magical sleeping through the night. However, Tony has been off work this week and a great entertainer for Afton. I've napped more days than I haven't, so life is generally good. We'll see what happens come next Monday when my help disappears back to work.

Here's the latest on Ainsley. She occasionally opens her eyes during the day.

And by way of comparison, a picture of Afton about the same age. (Note that Afton has a bow in her hair primarily because she had no older sister to come and rip it off. Luckily Ainsley didn't lose any skin when Afton decided to pluck the last bow.)

She has been named

Ainsley Irene. Ainsley was a name we liked (the Ains is pronounced like the "ains" in the word rains), and Irene is Tony's grandmother's name.

Other highlights of the past week include:

• Ainsley was not in a rush to be born, but my blood pressure shot up last week.... Thus the doctor's decision to induce labor.
• The one person who had not prepared himself for a June delivery was Tony. Yes, that's right, the guy who was giving me shots for 16 weeks with the warning that the shots may only get us to mid-June. His explanation was genetics: He figured that this kid had enough of his genes that it wouldn't trend toward "excessively punctual," shall we say, as do most of the women in my family. (We don't like to be late.)
• I distinctly remember saying, "Don't take a picture of me in a hospital gown."
• The labor and delivery was fast -- 3 hours. Tony came back from lunch at the hospital cafeteria in time to hear me say, "Bring the garbage can over here, I think I might throw up, and get the nurse I think the baby is coming."
• Speaking of labor, the epidural DID NOT WORK! I fully realize that many women have gone through much longer labor feeling every ache and pain, including my mother. But the whole point of an epidural is to avoid that. I was peeved.
• In the final 45 minutes of labor I said things such as, "I can't do this," "This is ridiculous," "I'm not paying the anesthesiologist's bill," and in relation to Tony's constant urging for me to breath, "Breathing does NOTHING!" -- but I don't think I swore at him or anyone else.
• Afton likes to hold Ainsley, whom she refers to as "Afton's baby."
• Since Ainsley's birth, Afton has been truly entertained by her grandparents, her aunt and uncle, and her dad. While still hoping for the best, I'm fairly sure there will be some fireworks when all these parties end and we settle into life with just the three of us hanging out all day.
• For now, Afton is hanging out in Oregon with her grandparents and all seems to be well. So a big thank you to my parents who will be celebrating their 33rd anniversary tomorrow by... hanging out with Afton. :)

And a couple more pictures of the crew...