50s theme at school. Jack's "wearing the belt". Ry adopts suspenders for the first time.Jack and his class mates.
It was Grandma's 80th birthday.
Jackson is taking tennis lessons and piano lessons.
Here he is serving for the very first time.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Fall Time
50s theme at school. Jack's "wearing the belt". Ry adopts suspenders for the first time.Jack and his class mates.
It was Grandma's 80th birthday.
Jackson is taking tennis lessons and piano lessons.
Here he is serving for the very first time.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Rylee's Uniform
You may have noticed it in some of the photos, or read me writing about it before. Rylee has a little uniform he constantly wears, and it's a struggle, especially for Cyndi, to get him to ever change out of it. The first element is the T Ball shirt. This is a t shirt but also must have something on it about baseball. The original T Ball shirt is probably retired now, but for a while he wouldn't let it be washed and he insisted on wearing it to bed. To this day he won't wear pajama tops. It's now okay to wear a football T Ball shirt or a soccer T Ball shirt and lately we've convinced him to wear a golf shirt (polo shirt) or a rugby shirt. I'm sure we could also convince him to wear a NASCAR T Ball shirt if we had one. (Next to sports with balls, cars are okay.) The second element is running shoes. They were also worn to bed for a long time. Running shoes look like running shoes, but lately he's accepted his "new running shoes", which are actually clean sneakers. Ankle socks are unacceptable. Socks have to be pulled high, so they have to be at least crew socks. Color doesn't seem to be an issue with socks, and he'll wear the loudest colors. He's most comfortable in baggy shorts, but lately has agreed to wear pants in deference to the change in weather. He always wears a cap. He confiscated Jack's old Isotopes cap until it was completely tattered along the edge of the bill. Cyndi's managed to find another red or magenta cap to replace the old Isotopes cap. The cap has also been known to go to bed with him. On the brim of the baseball cap rests his blue, Thomas the Train sunglasses, ala his daddy. He has a couple more accessories: one is Jackson's spy watch, a big gangly thing that Ry will wear on his wrist. There is almost always a car in his hand. He's still at the stage where a Matchbox car is acceptable. (Jackson's eye will find the biggest box in the toy store and then we negotiate down from there, predominately using the argument, "that's a Santa gift, put it on your list"; whereas, Ry is happy with the 99 cent toy car.) Finally, there's all sorts of things to find in his pockets: rocks, cars, "ponies" (pennies or other coins), Angel coins (from Lola), and a folded up dollar bill (I don't know where those keep coming from).
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
The Black Forest, the Gila & Silver City
Part I.
We spent a three-day weekend going to a corner of New Mexico we'd never been to before. Jackson had a day off on Monday. Columbus Day, I think. Saturday morning I went in early to finish some work, Cyndi packed the boys' stuff and we loaded the Durango with some of our camping stuff and headed south toward Belen to borrow "Papa's Motor Home," a PleasureWay converted van. Bennie had it all gas-upped & ready to go, and by noon off we went for a day of driving to the Gila Cliff Dwellings, some 220 miles south and west from Belen. The boys were belted in the back, watching a Mickey Mouse DVD. We stopped in Socorro for provisions, intending to grill outside along the way.
We took the Hwy. 152 exit to Hillsboro at Caballo Lake. The drive over the Black Range in the Aldo Leopold Wilderness is extremely mountainous. As far as I could tell, there really isn't a pass. You just keep driving up the mountain for ten miles after Hillsboro, a charming small town, and down the other side. In this area, you'll see signs telling you that such-and-such a place is 2 1/2 hours ahead. You think to yourself, how can that be? It's only 40 miles away! We took a right on Hwy. 35, only 40 miles away to the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument. That road starts in a beautiful valley around Mimbres, but eventually becomes increasingly twisty and steep, passing by Lake Roberts, where you join Hwy 15, a corridor surrounded by wilderness area that ends at the monument. The day was getting late now, the shadows long. I knew we could park for free overnight at the end of the road and that there was an RV park in Gila Hot Springs, just 4 miles short of the monument.
At Gila Hot Springs, we saw an RV park by the side of the road, and I didn't think that was what I had in mind exactly. The general store across the street had been closed for over an hour. So we followed a sign just before the RV park that led us through corrals of horses and goats. Now we were on a dirt road and it came to a small dirt intersection with hand painted signs. I stopped there for 5 minutes, trying to make sense of where I was and whether I should go on. I decided to follow the sign to the right to Wildwood Retreat.
To be continued.
We took the Hwy. 152 exit to Hillsboro at Caballo Lake. The drive over the Black Range in the Aldo Leopold Wilderness is extremely mountainous. As far as I could tell, there really isn't a pass. You just keep driving up the mountain for ten miles after Hillsboro, a charming small town, and down the other side. In this area, you'll see signs telling you that such-and-such a place is 2 1/2 hours ahead. You think to yourself, how can that be? It's only 40 miles away! We took a right on Hwy. 35, only 40 miles away to the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument. That road starts in a beautiful valley around Mimbres, but eventually becomes increasingly twisty and steep, passing by Lake Roberts, where you join Hwy 15, a corridor surrounded by wilderness area that ends at the monument. The day was getting late now, the shadows long. I knew we could park for free overnight at the end of the road and that there was an RV park in Gila Hot Springs, just 4 miles short of the monument.
At Gila Hot Springs, we saw an RV park by the side of the road, and I didn't think that was what I had in mind exactly. The general store across the street had been closed for over an hour. So we followed a sign just before the RV park that led us through corrals of horses and goats. Now we were on a dirt road and it came to a small dirt intersection with hand painted signs. I stopped there for 5 minutes, trying to make sense of where I was and whether I should go on. I decided to follow the sign to the right to Wildwood Retreat.
To be continued.
Sunday morning at the hot springs pool at Wildwood and a meditation garden.
(Our RV is behind the fence behind the boys.)
The Gila caves, viewed from the trail below.
The one-mile trail begins at the river along the canyon floor.
Cyndi & Jackson on the trail in Gila.
Along a "riverwalk" in Silver City.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Paper Airplanes
Jackson didn't go to school on Monday. He was pretty sick for several hours in the morning. I drove back home late morning with some pedialyte drinks & popsicles. Ry greeted me in the kitchen with a toy car in his hand. "Hi Daddy, you home from work?" he asks with the confidence and delight of a two year old who already knows the answer but only just learned the words. I heard a little bell summoning me and I laughed, recalling all the privileges of a sick boy being cared by his mother. Jack was in bed, watching some children's show, a big smile on his face, holding his jingle bell from the Polar Express train he got last year. He gave me a big warm hug and didn't let go.
By afternoon, he was his bright self again. He will tell you that he got well by hydration and electrolytes from the pedialyte I brought at his mom's request. She'd explained to him how important they are for him. He's not afraid to use big words.
When I got home, there were paper airplanes all around the house. Mom and Jackson had discovered "The Dangerous Book for Boys" by my bed and had spent the afternoon together learning how to make paper airplanes and testing out the flight of each. There must have been 50 of them, like origami swans filling up our little house. Jack then showed me how to make them, and then we went on to make paper hats and paper boats.
Strangely, it had ended as a good day for our family and Jack's still making paper toys. Guess what's the subject of this Friday's show-n-tell.
I've been taking the boys swimming almost three times a week for the last month. The boys do a lot of jumping. Ry says, "one, two, tree", and jumps right in. Then I put him on the edge of the wall and he makes his way along the wall until he reaches the steps. He gets out and jumps again. Jack's improving his rudimentary swimming skills and Ry tries to imitate him. "Me go underwater," he says, water running down his mop of hair.
Mostly we play, but there's a few backfloats and glides. Here and there, I'll show Jack a scissor kick or a frog kick or a breast stroke, and maybe for the first time he thinks he can learn to swim from me. I like the time. Sometimes we'll end the swim with a warm jacuzzi and sit and talk. The boys are starting to walk instead of run around the pool, so I know they're finally listening to me, and there's a certain routine to showering and getting dressed afterwards. Rylee will commentate endlessly on what were taking off or putting on: his running shoes, which he wants to wear in bed, his T-Ball shirt, which he never wants washed, and his socks, which have to pulled up high. When he's in the dressing room, he's much more accommodating about everything. "Yes, daddy," he says agreeably. "Me good boy."
But one of the reasons I'm even writing about this is that Jack is coming around on some things. When we do this little activity, he watches out for his brother more, he showers himself and dresses himself like it's a competition, he asks for permission before he runs out of the dressing room for a drink of water, and he holds my hand again in the parking lot. He seems gentler lately and sometimes more mature than his years. That may be an illusion, I guess. I see the same thing in Ry, too, when all of a sudden he can't just be two. These boys are wonderful little guys. Cyndi knows that with all of her heart, of course. She's very proud of them.
Now we're in the middle of planning a trip this weekend to Silver City and the Gila, simply because we've never been. Maybe we'll also play at White Sands and go up to Cloudcroft.
By afternoon, he was his bright self again. He will tell you that he got well by hydration and electrolytes from the pedialyte I brought at his mom's request. She'd explained to him how important they are for him. He's not afraid to use big words.
When I got home, there were paper airplanes all around the house. Mom and Jackson had discovered "The Dangerous Book for Boys" by my bed and had spent the afternoon together learning how to make paper airplanes and testing out the flight of each. There must have been 50 of them, like origami swans filling up our little house. Jack then showed me how to make them, and then we went on to make paper hats and paper boats.
Strangely, it had ended as a good day for our family and Jack's still making paper toys. Guess what's the subject of this Friday's show-n-tell.
I've been taking the boys swimming almost three times a week for the last month. The boys do a lot of jumping. Ry says, "one, two, tree", and jumps right in. Then I put him on the edge of the wall and he makes his way along the wall until he reaches the steps. He gets out and jumps again. Jack's improving his rudimentary swimming skills and Ry tries to imitate him. "Me go underwater," he says, water running down his mop of hair.
Mostly we play, but there's a few backfloats and glides. Here and there, I'll show Jack a scissor kick or a frog kick or a breast stroke, and maybe for the first time he thinks he can learn to swim from me. I like the time. Sometimes we'll end the swim with a warm jacuzzi and sit and talk. The boys are starting to walk instead of run around the pool, so I know they're finally listening to me, and there's a certain routine to showering and getting dressed afterwards. Rylee will commentate endlessly on what were taking off or putting on: his running shoes, which he wants to wear in bed, his T-Ball shirt, which he never wants washed, and his socks, which have to pulled up high. When he's in the dressing room, he's much more accommodating about everything. "Yes, daddy," he says agreeably. "Me good boy."
But one of the reasons I'm even writing about this is that Jack is coming around on some things. When we do this little activity, he watches out for his brother more, he showers himself and dresses himself like it's a competition, he asks for permission before he runs out of the dressing room for a drink of water, and he holds my hand again in the parking lot. He seems gentler lately and sometimes more mature than his years. That may be an illusion, I guess. I see the same thing in Ry, too, when all of a sudden he can't just be two. These boys are wonderful little guys. Cyndi knows that with all of her heart, of course. She's very proud of them.
Now we're in the middle of planning a trip this weekend to Silver City and the Gila, simply because we've never been. Maybe we'll also play at White Sands and go up to Cloudcroft.
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