192 miles and an aching tush later. . .

(photo courtesy of Lincoln!)

My new adorable friend (and personal cheerleader) is Caitlin Copple, who as my new biking buddy somehow convinced me to do the seemingly impossible: ride my bike 220 miles in two days with only two weeks of training. She was convincing; and I somehow insanely agreed to it!

With the threat of rainy, windy, cold weather looming, we headed out anyway on Saturday. Although the clouds threatened us more than once, amazingly the roads remained dry, and we rode 112 miles in near bliss on Saturday.

Sunday morning dawned cold and rainy, so we determined to fudge--just a bit--by starting out about a quarter of the way on the return trip. Although Caitlin's willpower and gusto were intact, a pain in her poor knees was sending sharp pains to her head--not a good sign to continue. And though she bowed out she still cheered me on, offering her ipod and booties, and even met me at the finish along with Jed and the boys.

I truly surprised myself by biking 192 miles, part of it alone. In all honesty, I didn't think I could do it. I guess it goes to show the power of your own will, but especially the championing of a good friend.

ikey's kindergarten music program

mr. moose

all i want for Christmas. . .

I was so glad I happened to be with Isaac when he lost his first front tooth. I had volunteered to chaperone a school field trip and during lunch one of his classmates pointed out that his tooth was bleeding. As I soothed him and quickly yanked it out, many of the kids gathered around, asking to see the tooth, peer into the new hole in his mouth, and to gush their own tooth stories about this shared rite of passage. Back at school he got to add a sticker to his tooth ornament on the tooth tree. A very generous (daddy) tooth fairy brought him $5! (The stingy mommy tooth fairy had no such plans of repeating that amount.)

A few days later, the other front tooth succumbed, and this time dad was out of town and the mommy tooth faith accidentally--ahem--forgot. The following morning I went to say good morning and he announced, gleam in eye, "I'm going to check under my pillow now!" A stab of shame hit me as I realized that I was about to witness my child's keen disappointment--due to my neglect. On a whim I declared, "Isaac, close your eyes for just a minute!" He did, and I grabbed the $5 still sitting on his dresser from the previous visit, slipped it under his pillow while slipping out the tooth, and announced he could open his eyes. Miraculously, it worked! He never saw the switcheroo! But man, this tooth fairy was broke.

Later that day, with a slight new lisp, Isaac asked, "Mom, are you the tooth fairy?"

"What do you think?" I replied.

"I think you are. You're aren't? You are."

"It's whatever you believe, Isaac."

A pause. "I just don't believe fairies are real. I think you are."

"You're right. It's just something moms and dads like to do for their kids, for fun."

A wide, toothless grin spread across his face, so proud of himself for figuring it out!

my baby is 3

For his birthday, Lincoln wanted to play at the dragon park, ride the horsie on the Carousel, and eat pizza, so that's what we did. (Can you find him in the pic?) And I'm not going to lie. I was proud of the way the stegosaurus cake turned out! I think I can say this because I have never experienced any level of success in birthday-cake making. Of course, I had a wee bit of help from Jed. ;) All day long Link sang happy birthday to "Stegosaurus." (The boys are being dinosaurs)

Lincoln. Sunshine boy. Little goose, raggy bear, snugger, peaceful guy. Does a hilarious crusty face. Asks questions all day. “Whaz dat?” I will supply the answer. Then “oh,” in a tone that sounds like his little universe now makes perfect sense. In prayers goes through the gamut of animals, thanking God for them all. Adores Yoda, anything Star Wars, including “Jabba Dabba Hut.” Scribbles and colors and creates for hours at a time. So happy. So lovey. Is inseparable from big brother yet plays independently. Hums to himself, his own little tune. Gives the best woodpecker kisses, always purposefully placed. Calls himself “T-Rex” and “Yoda” and “Leen-ton” and his brother “Isaat.”

I don’t get angry at this kid often, but one day I was upset about something completely unrelated but very unfairly blew up at him. I don’t even remember what it was about. But I vividly recall hollering at him. He stopped in his tracks. Dropped his head. Quietly lifted his gaze. Then a whisper, “I-uv-oo, Mommy.”

That was all. Uninvited—on his own—when I was least deserving of it. All blended together into one sound, “I-uv-oo,” but unmistakably clear and sweeter than any other sound I have ever heard.

And it happened to be his very first time saying it.

ikey's first race

We were super proud of Isaac for running a mile all by himself! (Here he is with his kindergarten teacher, Ms. LaRance) Way to go, Bud!