Sign of the Times

Have the editors of ELLE magazine been reading my blog? On the cover of its July issue is this headline: "Gorgeous Hair--Do It Yourself: Break Free From Salon Bondage". The article, "If I Should Dye," describes editor Maggie Bullock's experiments with coloring her college friends' hair. It states that more women are furtively buying hair dye from Walgreens and dying their own hair because they just can't afford the every-two-month visits to their colorists.
Sounds awfully similar to my post, "Hair Dye Kits: A Stylist's Worst Enemy." Like my post, Maggie admits that these kits give great results if you follow the directions and stay within your hair's natural color range.
As much as I'd like to think that I'm a fabulous trend setter, really I'm just a victim of the economy. I'm proud of my DIY beauty successes, but I'd much rather have a professional do it. With $4-per-gallon gasoline, however, I just can't afford it. (Sorry, JC.) This article points out that I'm not alone.

Potty Time

I curse the ease of
Pull-Up diapers when it is
time to potty train.

My mom had seven kids and has no advice for me on potty training. I think it's all a blur for her. Also, there were no Pull-Ups to tempt her--she just had to put us in underwear and deal with the accidents. That's where I'm at with James--I convinced myself that Pull-Ups would be a good transition to getting him used to sitting on the potty, but instead he just went in his Pull-Up. Why stop everything to go sit on a potty when it's just easier to go in your Pull-Up? When I ran out of Pull-Ups yesterday, I had to face my fears and actually put James in underwear and sit him on the potty. Yes, we're going hard core--wish us luck.

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Hangin' in Aspen

While we were in Glenwood Springs, we headed over to Aspen, which is about 40 miles away. Why go to Aspen when the ski resorts are closed? The street life. The heart of Aspen has a great pedestrian mall full of sidewalk cafes, shops, street musicians and benches to sit on and people watch. Our boys and our friend's daughter loved this sculpture of bear made out of hundreds of nails.

There's even some kid-friendly features like this mountain-themed playground.


And fountains to run through and cool off.

Although, James liked the stream/ditch that ran through the pedestrian mall better.
Plus, there's still some die-hards managing to find what little snow is left on Aspen Mountain to snowboard on. Check out these guys:

While this may not be the most glamorous side of Aspen, to me it's still fun.

A Zen Moment at the Mini-Golf Course

Yesterday was James' last toddler golf class. We met at the park district's mini-golf course to test his skills. James picked an orange golf club and a blue ball (his favorite color). Then we headed out to the course.
With company in town, we had missed two of the classes, so I knew James was clueless at golf. I'm not a golfer, so I'm pretty clueless, too. We got to the first hole, and I told James to put the ball down on the marker and then hit toward the hole. I soon noticed that James still wanted to hold the club in front of him like it was a crochet club.
I grabbed him and made him stand perpendicular to the ball and then swing. It wasn't natural to James at all.
Then we caught up to a mom with her own 3-year-old. I smiled, thinking, how fun--let's take our toddlers mini golfing. But she was taking this much more seriously. Her son had his very own golf club, which he proudly showed me. She asked us to go ahead of her so we wouldn't intefere with her and her son's golf game.
Our conversation got me nervous. I felt like I need to stay out of her way, which is ridiculous because I'm dealing with a 3-year-old who has never played mini-golf before. The fun of the whole experience just drained away. Soon I was barking orders to James--"Don't pick up the ball!" "Stand like this!" "Hold the club like this!"
What had gotten into me? I could care less about golf--why was I trying to turn James into the next Tiger Woods?
Luckily, my friend and her two kids walked up to us, and that snapped me out of my competitive mind frame. We caught up with each other's lives, and soon I forgot to tell James what to do. He was having a great time hitting the ball in his own special way and getting it into the hole. At one point he and my friend's son were battling over the ball like it was a hockey puck instead of a golf ball.
When James managed to get the ball in the hole, he jumped up and down for joy. We clapped for him like he just make a hole in one at the U.S. Open.
This experience made me realize how easy it is as parents to let our insecurities interfere with our childrens' lives. As much as we want to support our kids, we also don't want to be shown up by other parents. And those feelings suck the joy out of just being with our kids.

Georgetown

When we make the long drive to Glenwood Springs, we stop in Georgetown to have a picnic lunch and let our boys get some energy out at the playground. I've been coming here since I was a little, and it hasn't changed much. A few years back, the town spruced up the playground equipment in the park, but everything else is the same, like this cute fountain in the park's center.

This little park always puts me in a vacation frame of mind.


Our friend's daughter gets ready to slide with James.

Practicing Driving

Ethan went to a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese this weekend and played this driving video game. He was having so much fun, I didn't have the heart to tell him not to push the gas and brake pedal at the same time.

Taking a Breather

The days before Father's Day were pretty hectic. We had guests arriving to stay in our home, so it was nonstop cleaning and shopping before they arrived. We wanted to show our out-of-town guests the Colorado mountains, so we planned a weekend in Glenwood Springs. Sounds great, but in reality, getting three kids under 6 years old ready for a three-hour drive from Denver to Glenwood Springs almost made me feel like the trip wasn't worth it.

Glenwood Springs has the world's largest hot springs swimming pool. With its warm, salty mineral water, the pool is almost like a beach vacation in the mountains. We stayed in the Hot Springs Lodge, which has unlimited swimming at the pool--a must for my boys.

With the help of Color Wonder coloring books and our portable DVD player, we made it to the town in one piece. After I got the boys settled in our hotel room, I went on our balcony and this is what I saw:



This view of the pool and the surrounding mountains definitely made the shopping/packing/driving worth it.

Lush Living

I have the privelege of living seven miles south of Daveco Liquors, the largest liquor store in the world. Yes, this little-known fact is recorded in the Guiness Book of World Records, or so it says at every check out in the place. The store looks more like an aircraft hangar filled with all sorts of libations than a store. Apparently the place is so big, its employees don't know of all bargains it holds. After shopping there a few times, I've found some great deals on wine and beer on the left-hand side of the store. And I'm not talking about the usual, cheap boxes of Franzia Zinfandel or gallon-sized jugs of Carlo Rossi Cabernet Sauvingnon. I've found a decent Australian Shiraz (Mattie's Perch) and an Italian Pinot Grigio (Kettmeir) for $3 a bottle. I can have wine with dinner, and still afford to put gas in my car!

Every time I go there, the employee who checks me out tells me what a great deal this wine is, they had no idea this existed, blah, blah, blah. What do you mean you don't know? I've only been buying this wine here at this price for the past few months. So either Daveco is so humongous, its employees honestly don't know of all its treasures, or they are trying to make me feel like a cheapskate. I'm going to assume the former.

"Heart Songs"

I'm a music glommer--I don't seek out new music, I just glom onto what someone else listens to. When I was a teenager, one of my sisters liked U2 and INXS, and another liked The Smiths and The Cure, so that's what I listened to. Then I met my husband, and he got me into classic country, like Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson, as well as bluegrass.

Now my 6-year-old son Ethan is influencing my musical tastes. Ethan started to like rock music last summer. Terry's acoustic collection didn't cut it for Ethan. The best we could come up with for him was Bruce Springsteen's "Born In The USA." Ethan loved that CD, and, after a while, I did, too. That album was so overplayed when I was a teenager, it was like background music to me. But listening to it now I began to appreciate Springsteen's songwriting abilities and became a major fan.

After a few months, however, Ethan wanted to move on from The Boss, so I asked my friend to help me out. Her husband has a huge music collection, and he made Ethan a mixed CD he called "HEthan Rock." Ethan loved it. That CD had a White Stripes song on it called Icky Thump. After listening to acoustic music for so many years, it was refreshing to listen to what Ethan refers to as "loud music." I bought Ethan the latest White Stripes CD, but listen to it almost as much as him.

Then Ethan got over the music CD thing when he listened the radio station KTCL. It only plays alternative rock music. While some of the songs have atrocious lyrics that make me turn off the radio, there are some good bands, such as Weezer. Ethan's graduation from kindergarten was my excuse to buy him their latest CD, The Red Album.

Even though Weezer has been around since 1994, I haven't heard of them until now. That's been the case for me all along my musical journey--I'm way behind the curve. I've still, however, managed to find what Weezer calls my "heart songs--they never feel wrong."

Eppa

In night's depths small hands

cuddle green fur to make a

comforting rattle

This haiku is dedicated to James' favorite stuffed animal, Eppa. We know when James is restless at night because we hear Eppa's rattle go off as James rolls around. But he doesn't cry because Eppa is there to comfort him. Do you haiku? Click here to learn more.

A Hairy Situation

When your a mom with young kids, swimsuit season isn't a season, it's year round. My biggest issue with wearing a swimsuit in public isn't how I look in it (OK, it is.). But a close runner up is shaving, particularly the bikini area. I always end up with razor burn, which is irritated even more after swimming in chlorinated water.
So after my success with DIY hair coloring, I decided to look into DIY waxing. I went to Bliss' web site to look at their waxing kits. I found its Poetic Waxing kit and read what T. McConnell from Terre Haute, Ind., had to say about it:




"This waxing kit is AMAZING! It removes even the most stubborn hair in one try, and was gentle enough for even sensitive areas (not to mention that it smells great!). I'll never go back to shaving, depilatories, or another wax again. "



Pretty convincing, especially for a mom whom has to swim with her kids at least once a week and can't take the razor burn any longer. I ordered the kit and gave it a try a few weeks ago. I followed the directions perfunctionally: I used the cleanser on the area I wanted to dehair first, then coated my skin with the pre/post waxing oil while I heated up the wax in a double boiler. When the wax melted, I smeared it on and waited for it to harden. I get my brows waxed, so I knew this was going to be painful. But Holy S#$%!! I had to do it in stages it hurt so much. But after the pain subsided, I checked the results and was so pleased--no hair!! It really worked.


T. McConnell, whomever you are, thanks for your great review. Now I can dehair myself at home with confidence.

Golden Memories

I went to a private Catholic high school in Englewood, about 20 miles away from Golden, where I grew up. None of the girls I went to school with lived in Golden, so it wasn't surprising that Kelly D., a classmate, happened to ask me where I lived. When I told her Golden, she said nothing, but a look of revulsion crossed her face. I might as well had told her I lived in a shanty town.

It makes me laugh when, 18 years later, one of my friends referred to Golden as hip. What, the same Golden with the brown arch over the main street that says, "Howdy Folks, Welcome to Golden"? Growing up, I cringed every time I passed under that sign. It made me think of cowboy boots, country music and square dancing. I didn't want to have anything to do with those things, which is probably why I ended up going to college in Chicago.

But a lot changed in Golden while I was gone. It went from being a blue-collar factory town dominated by Coors Brewery Co., to a desirable community to raise your family. Developers plopped neighborhoods with homes starting at $300,000 around the perimeter of the town and recreational services went from basic to cutting edge. Growing up, the recreation center consisted of a gym, some tennis courts and a 25-meter swimming pool with a diving well. Now parents can take their kids swimming at Splash Aquatics Park. There's also a community center with an indoor leisure pool and plenty of toddler classes to take.

Golden's main strip also has had a face lift. My sister, aka A Virgen A Day, worked at one of the few places to eat in Golden, Joyce's Subs. Across the street was one of the few places to drink, Ace High Tavern. I wish I had tales of underage drinking to share, but no. I would peek across the street at Ace High Tavern when I came to pick my sister up from work and wonder what went on there.

Now there's a few bars in Golden to choose from, complete with outdoor patios and music. There's even this place:

Vinter's Cellar, a wine tasting shop. It's hard to picture enjoying a glass of wine with the smell of brewing beer wafting past your nose. That's one of the few things that hasn't changed since I left--the distinct smell of mash coming from Coors brewery, which still towers over the town.

Another thing that hasn't changed is the beautiful Clear Creek that comes rushing down the canyon into the town. Coors commercials insinuate it uses that "Rocky Mountain spring water" to brew its beer, but I doubt it. Those commercials, however, do conjer up feelings of clean mountain living, which, I'm sure, helped pull in all the money that spruced up the town during the '90's.

The new Golden facade is nice, but it's the mountains pull me back there. They are green and rolling, dotted with pines. When I take my kids to Lions Park, I feel like I can touch the mountains, they are so close. They give me a feeling of serenity I can't find anywhere else. It took a 2,000-mile journey to Chicago and back for me to figure that out.

Our Little Athlete

Now that James is 3 years old, it's time to throw him headlong into sports. Last week we introduced him to riding a bike, this week it's golf--the rec center's toddler version of golf, that is. Too bad wasn't a toddler croquet class, since James wanted to hold the club in front of him like a crocqet club, as you can see in this photo, which I'm submitting to "Weekly Winners." James had more fun sprinkling grass on his friend than learning golf, but that's ok. Having fun outdoors is all that really matters. To learn more about "Weekly Winners," click here.

Countdown to Stork

Today my baby sister Angela celebrated having a baby of her own--her second, to be exact. We met at her sister-in-law's house for the baby shower. Angela refused to find out the baby's sex, which is killing me, and proudly wore a green dress to mark the occasion. Here she is doing her best Angelina Jolie imitation. Click here to see:
We were treated to a lovely lunch--I had seconds of the clam dip. Then Angela opened her gifts, and Katie, her 2-year-old daughter, did a great job helping her unwrap them. Katie was a little perturbed when she first saw the huge pile of gifts for her mommy, but her Aunt Casey eased the pain by getting her a special swim suit and princess towel. Katie proudly modeled her suit for everyone:

The occasion made me realize how fast time flies--my second "baby" is 3 years old now. I'm so excited for Angela, and can't wait for a new niece or nephew to love.

Milo

Chest stuck out

King of his domain

But not impervious

To a toddler's love.

My sweet cat, Milo, passed away last December, and we all still really miss him. He lived life to the fullest--he overate, picked fights with other cats, and kept Molly, our other cat, in line. He loved to visit our neighbors and charm them into feeding him. The one person he couldn't control was Ethan. As much as he would have liked Ethan to leave him alone, Ethan wouldn't hear of it. He would pick Milo up and force him to sit with him on the couch. "Milo, your the best cat in the world," Ethan would tell him. I guess the flattery worked--Milo would stay put while Ethan petted him. Either that, or Milo was smart enough to know he wouldn't win this battle. Do you Haiku? Click here to learn more.

He's a Big Boy Now

Yesterday was Ethan's graduation from kindergarten. I used to think it was little much to make such a big deal about leaving kindergarten--you still have five more years of elementary school. But the speech Ethan's principal gave at the ceremony's beginning got me thinking. She described how the kindergarteners start out as caterpillars that, by the end of the year, have transformed into butterflies from all the experiences kindergarten provides.

The speech made me realize what a big deal this year has been for both Ethan and myself. Once Ethan started kindergarten, homelife became a little less all-encompassing, and school, with its academics and peer interaction, became a major factor in Ethan's life.

And while the transformation wasn't painless, Ethan has become a beautiful butterfly. He struggled academically, but persevered and made tremendous progress. School also introduced him to art, which I think will be lifelong creative outlet for him.

For me, the ceremony solidified how time marches on. A sign on the wall behind the 100 kindergarteners read "Class of 2020." That sounds so far away, but then again, when Ethan was a baby, kindergarten seemed far away, too. During the ceremony, I had to say good bye to Ethan's baby- and toddlerhood. It was good I had this occasion to savor it before it flew away.

Dinosaur Ridge

Yesterday, I decided to exploit Ethan's love for dinosaurs to get some fresh air and Colorado scenery. About 20 miles west of Denver is Dinosaur Ridge, a mountain in which lots of dinosaur fossils were found, including Stegasauros and Allosaurus fossils. A non-profit group maintains the area, which includes a gift shop and visitor center and a road along the mountain with signs pointing to some of the areas unique finds, including dinosaur tracks.

This sign describes how the Allosaurus died.

When we got to the visitor center, Ethan was anxious to see some meat-eating dinosaurs. It didn't disapoint: there was a block of stone with the backbone of an Allosaurus embedded in it. I was hoping for a walking trail next to the visitor center, but the guide in the gift shop said you have to drive along the mountain road, and along the way there are signs pointing to various dinosaur fossils. Not very kid friendly, I think. In the meantime, Ethan and James were ogling some plastic dinosaurs. I ended up getting Ethan a T-Rex and James an Iguanadon, which turned the free visit into a $20 visit.

Ethan and James play with their new toys outside the gift shop.

After the boys played with the dinosaurs on the picnic tables outside the gift shop, I coaxed them into the car and we headed up the road. I was hoping for good pull-off areas along the two-lane road, but there weren't any until you got to the top of the mountain. We got out and walked around. There were no dinosaur fossils, but a great view of surrounding mountains.

Ethan's favorite part of the visit: the gift shop.

My favorite part of the visit: the view.

Then, heading down the mountain I saw a sign for the Stegasaurus lot, and made a sharp right turn into the parking lot. It wasn't until I got the kids out and we walked around that I realized that this was just a park-and-ride lot for the public bus. I guess I should have read the tour guide map I got at the gift shop more closely.

All in all, not the best toddler-friendly excursion, but still fun and scenic nontheless.

Best Impressions

We got Ethan a new bike Sunday, so James inherited Ethan's old one. James was a little miffed, but got over it when we told him we'd buy him a new bike when he outgrows this one. Anyway, here is James doing his best imitation of riding a bike. I say imitation because we couldn't get him to pedal. Oh well ... we got all summer.

I thought this would be a good photo for "Weekly Winners." To find out more, click here.

Thank You Bob Ross

There's nothing like a screaming child to get you into action. On Saturday morning, I was slowly moving around the house, doing my best to clean it. Then Ethan starts crying like wounded animal. I run down the stairs, my heart beating. "What happened?" I asked Terry. "Channel 6 (PBS) isn't playing Bob Ross' 'Joy of Painting' this morning," he said. "Oh God," I replied.

Bob Ross is Ethan's new infatuation. This year he got into coloring and drawing, and will spend hours drawing pictures of rainbows and dinosaurs. One Saturday morning he happened to see Bob Ross's show, and just fell in love with it. "Bob Ross is the best painter in the world," Ethan often tells us.

I checked PBS's web site, and my fears were confirmed. The station is doing yet another fund raiser, and is taking programs off that people want to watch to put pledge programming on, like "Dr. Wayne Dyer: The Power of Intention." The station won't play Bob Ross on Saturday morning until June 21. In its place it's playing back-to-back episodes of "Sewing With Nancy." "I hate that clothes-making guy!" Ethan bawled.

No worries. The library has plenty of Bob Ross DVD's you can borrow. Terry and I hatched a plan--we'll ride our bikes on our suburb's trail system to a new park. Then I'll keep riding on the trail to the library, and Terry will hang out with the kids. It turned out to be one of those family outings where everyone benefits: Terry and I get some exercise; the boys get to check out a new park; and I get some much-needed downtime under the guise of fulfilling my son's Bob Ross fix.

Everything worked according to plan. The boys had a great time at the park, and I fell in love with riding a bike again. I got the video, and then we returned home.

On the way back, I noticed Ethan's knees were practically hitting the handlbars. We got the bike for him when he was four, and he hasn't shown much interest in riding it until now. Figures he's outgrown it.

So this morning I perused Craig's List for a used kid's bike, and I hit the jackpot. A guy in a neighboring suburb is selling a never-used bike for $35. We frantically emailed him and he called us back and said the bike is ours.

Now I have visions Terry and I teaching Ethan how to ride his new bike without training wheels and all of us hitting the trails on our bikes, with Terry towing James in the bike trailer. I'm sure it won't work out that way--Ethan will hate his new bike, James won't want to sit in the trailer, etc. But along the way, we'll find a way to turn those lemons into lemonade.