I’m an auntie! (again)

My darling cousin Lani and her husband Michael welcomed little Asher Michael into the family today at 12:48pm. Asher weighed in at 7lb, 3oz and measured 20-1/2 inches long. He’s stunning, and totally missing that puffy-faced alien weirdness that so many newborns sport.

It was hard work (22 hours of labor — I’m tired just thinking about it), but he’s here now, and the family is all well and happy, if exhausted.

Too bad that’s the end of full nights of sleep for Lani and Mike in the forseeable future (grin).

I found the Pancake Rocks trail in a local guidebook shortly after I moved to Colorado, and it’s still one of my favorite hikes — one I typically hit at least twice per summer. Like Section 16, the beginning section is a steep (brutal, at times) ascent, and I find myself early on wondering, “why do I like this one, again?” Once I hit the top of the switchbacks, that’s no longer a question. The views are stunning, and the relatively flat walk through aspen-lined meadows is idyllic.

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Maya and Dominic play at the top lookout among the rocks. Joy and I were in the background, constantly herding the kidlets away from any sharp dropoffs. A relaxing stop, this was NOT.

View from the top, looking toward Cripple Creek.

Maya, two-fisting her snacks.

Whew, what a workout! We celebrated with a late lunch at The Loop in Manitou Springs afterward, and plan to repeat this one during September, during the Fall color explosion.

(Note to self: when hiking at 11000 feet, it’s pretty fool-hardy to forget the sunscreen — even if the trail is mostly shady. Can you say, “farmer tan”?)

It’s so very difficult to get my fingers into Maya’s mouth anymore. Then, if I do manage it, she tries to bite. I did, however, manage to get a quick pseudo count of teeth earlier today, using an M&M as an incentive.

New:

• Upper 1yo molars, all four points
• Lower 1yo molars, at least 2 points, possibly all four
• Upper side incisors, right and left (may have not completely broken the skin yet, but I can see them
• I *think* I might also see the shadow of an upper bicuspid (canine)

Is it any wonder we’ve been having sleep issues lately?

After seven or eight tries of asking Maya if she’d eat x, y, or z for breakfast, she finally gave the OK to oatmeal. Ten minutes later, I presented her with a toddler bowl of oatmeal and a spoon.

A little later…
So, how’s your oatmeal? I’d noticed she’d pushed the bowl to the opposite side of the tray.
Mmmmmmm! She pulled the bowl back to her, picked up the spoon again, and took a bite.

It was at this point that I realized two things:
1) the oatmeal was still in the bowl, not on her tray, and
2) she was eating with the spoon without getting *any* on her pjs.

*sniff* My little girl is growing up!

THUD.

Excuse me while I race to the other room to see what she dropped on the floor. Please…don’t let it be the oatmeal bowl!

Phew. It’s just her milk in a COVERED sippy cup.

…to be filed under “can’t have too many of these.” I love the highchair nap.

Maya spent a good hour in her room complaining, throwing books around, pulling everything out of the closet floor (the clothing she’s outgrown, waiting to be packed away), and randomly banging on the door. I finally relented and brought her downstairs.

She ate an enormous helping of pasta, then — no surprise, really — zonked out. I just hope she’ll sleep for long enough to avoid being cranky this evening!

These days you…

• …have discovered your shadow. It didn’t scare you, just fascinated you — you couldn’t seem to understand why that thing on the wall moved when you did.
• …run everywhere you go. Why walk, when running’s so much more fun?
• …spin like a whirling dervish for absolutely no reason. Then you stop and look around to be sure I’m watching and laughing with you.
• …eat apple slices as if they were watermelon. It’s pretty funny to see you hold a small piece of apple in both hands, and munch down the middle. It’s not as funny to find the discarded peelings, usually with my bare feet.
• …torment the dogs. Today, when I wasn’t looking (bad mama?), you cornered Clay in his crate and he nipped you. The idea that I could have to give up the dogs one day terrifies me. Then again, almost immediately after, you wanted Clay to be your best friend again. You offered food. He accepted the apology.
• …know that I have a small container of mini-M&Ms on the shelf with your diapers. They’ve worked their magic to keep you from struggling and rolling during changes, but you’re a bit too smart for your own good. Earlier today, you insisted that you needed a diaper change, even though you were clean and dry.
• …have started to head-bang. You’d do some 80s hair-band groupies proud. After you learned that I wasn’t falling for your trickery to get M&Ms, you pitched a 2-hour-long mother of all tantrums, complete with slamming your head on the (carpeted, thank god) floor. I hope the headache was worth it. You still didn’t get the candy.
• …love hiking as much as I do. This one makes me all warm-and-fuzzy inside. I can’t even tell you how happy I am that you like being outdoors. I wish I were able to take you outside all the time, all day long. I also wish you could understand why I can’t.
• …make up songs all. the. time. What are you singing? Beats me…but you’re pretty emphatic about it.
• …speak your own language. Some of my friends’ kids the same age are already using 2- and 3-word sentences. You’re not. You use signs. You use single words. You get your point across, and that’s enough for you right now. You also deliver long lectures in Klingon. When you finally decide to talk for real, you might actually give *me* a run for my money.
• …talk to strangers. You flirt with them, even. I still love taking you places, and even feel a little bit lost when you’re not with me. It’s good for me to get time away, but you’re so much of who I am.
• …need more time with other kids. I’m working on that whole “job outside the home” thing, and I know it will be the best option for us both. Just the same, when I consider how many fewer hours I’ll have with you, I’m sad.
• …make my heart swell until I think it could burst. You’re funny. You’re smart. You’re stubborn. You’re active. You’re gorgeous. The best compliment I get, ever? “Wow, you two look just alike.”

Length: About 4 miles from the Starsmore Discovery Center to the Upper Columbine trailhead.
Elevation: Lower Columbine trailhead 6250’, Mid Columbine trailhead 6500’, Upper Columbine trailhead 7300’
General Description: This trail makes its way up the Canon from behind the Starsmore Discovery Center to the Upper Columbine trailhead near Helen Hunt Falls. The Mid Columbine trailhead is about 1 mile up the road from the main park gate by the Starsmore Discovery Center. The Upper Columbine trailhead is about 350’ east of Helen Hunt Falls. Hikers, cyclists and equestrians can use this trail.

We started out earlyish, but because Joy had plans (the first real “date” with her husband in a long time), we couldn’t go far today. All of the signs on the trail say that this one is 3 miles, not 4 — but 4 sounds more likely. We were still a good 1/2 to 3/4 miles from the upper trailhead when it came time to turn around and return to the Starsmore (2 hours in). Even though we didn’t finish the trail, I’m reasonably sure we DID do all of the elevation gain. Whew, I’m ready for the weather to cool!

This one offers phenomenal views of the Broadmoor and its golf course, but it’s still just not one of my favorites. For right-in-town trails, Section 16 is still the best, IMO.

Next weekend, with a little more time available, we’re off to Pancake Rocks (more here). I am so thrilled to have a hiking buddy!

Climbing up onto the piano bench is a breeze.

Getting down? Not so much.

Down! Down!

Photo goodness, now added to the Waldo Canyon hike post.

Maya’s favorite part of Monsters, Inc. isn’t in the movie at all:

It’s the THX intro. MOO.