Dear Ardy...

The lost were found!




The girls left these Beany Babies, given to them by Ardy, in a bathroom at Hot Sulphur Springs. SuperCarl retrieved them the next day.

THANKS, ARDY!

Vacation Summation

I've have so many many thoughts banging around in my brain that I need to filter them through a mental triage to prioritize them for this post.

Vacation. I loved it. I hated it. I'm inspired. I'm exhausted. I'm resentful. I'm grateful.

I loved being in the Colorado Rockies: the cool, dry climate; the multicolored wildflowers; the scent of pine and fresh air; the refreshing stream that babbled by our campsite; the bonding and memories created with my family. I loved watching Katie's and Hailey's learning their strength, eating meals Carl cooked over the campfire, telling impromptu silly stories I made up and listening the the girls' resulting laughter.

I hated my limitations, my inability to contribute without tiring, being left behind while others hiked. I hated that Carl had to help me up from my bed. I hated peeing in the woods.

Inspiration surrounded me. The mountains spiritually inspire me, reminding me that Someone bigger created everything, has control when I don't. Yet that knowledge also creates questions that I'll leave for later. My family inspired me, the way they were all (mostly) willing to pitch in, to set up and tear down camp, the help me without complaining (again, mostly), to make up for my previously-mentioned limitations.

I'm exhausted, not refreshed. I'm exhausted by poor sleep, by extra work, by barely-a-solitary-moment.

I'm resentful of the arthritis, of its fatigue, of its theft of life as I planned it. I'm resentful that I need an eighty-something mother-in-law to do my laundry, that my sixty-year-old mother is more capable of cleaning my grout than my forty-year-old self is, that I couldn't hike and help, that I often feel like constant taker instead of a giver.

I'm grateful that I could experience such a rugged vacation with my family, possibly for the last time if my health continues to deteriorate. I'm grateful for a husband who is so energetic and capable, who is so willing to serve in a way that I am unwilling. I'm grateful that I could spend the night with Pop and Ardy; visit with a nearly-ninety-year-old grandmother who still lives independently; share grilled burgers, laughter and a nice glass of wine. I'm grateful to have met another Dandy mom and her family, to feel in-person that I'm not alone. I'm grateful that my mom surprised me by cleaning my house (and the aforementioned grout) while we were gone, that my mother-in-law arrived Monday to help me with do all of my vacation laundry.

I listed gratitude last, not because it is least important, but because I wanted it to be the final thing to enter my mind and this post, therefore letting it linger longer. Exhaustion and fatigue often suck the gratitude right out of me, leaving me pity-full and angry. Have you ever experienced several simultaneous days--or weeks--of sleep deprivation? Or the achiness and fatigue that accompany the flu? That's my life. It makes a person grumpy and sometimes afraid that she'll never feel better again. When I'm at that point I have to pointedly look at my blessings and purposefully be grateful for them rather than resent needing them.

Rambling. I'm just rambling. My mother-in-law left this morning & I have my first moment to breathe since a week ago Friday. Summer has made my blogging sporadic. Hopefully I will get back into a routine soon.

First Day Hiking Pictures

On our first full day of camping Carl took the three girls on a hike while I stayed behind for some long-awaited alone time. The hike was supposed to last four hours, but they returned two hours later exhausted, happy and still acclimating to the high altitude.

Solomon Girl Totem Pole...

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Beauty on so many levels....

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More of the stream...downstream...

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Words are not necessary...

Talk about great memories. I expect the girls will remember this for a long time.

Vacation Plan B

As I mentioned earlier, we originally intended to camp up the mountain from Breckenridge. When we arrived in Breckenridge, the town was hopping, tourists walking between shops that sat tightly against each other, a beer festival coming to a close (darn! just missed it), diners sitting outside for an early supper in the cool sunshine amidst daisies, pansies and columbine.

We drove up and down Main street three times before finally finding the visitor's center and procuring a map of local camp areas. We drove another hour searching for our campsight and determined the area had been closed due to the pine beetle epidemic that has changed the mountainside from a lush green to a dead rust.


Before I go on, acquaint yourself with Summit and Grand counties:

We took I-70 west to the Frisco exit and on south to Breckenridge. When we couldn't find our desired campsite, we headed north to Kremmling. From there we drove east to Hot Sulphur Springs where we stopped to see if they had vacancies. A soak in the springs sounded wonderful, but no vacancies. After the girls used their bathroom, we continued east until I heard tears from the back seat as we reached Tabernash. Evidently Katie and Hailey left the new beany babies that Ardy had given them back in the Hot Sulphur Springs bathroom. By this time the sun had fallen behind the mountains, the temperature had dropped into the fifties and there was no way we were turning back at that point for the beany babies. Maybe tomorrow.

We finally decided to get a hotel room in Winter Park. Secretly, I was thrilled. Winter Park/Fraser is my favorite area in the Colorado Rockies. I felt at home. Too bad we had to take the long route to get there. Or maybe not. The drive was magnificent!

As I undressed for bed...a real bed...I noticed this on my stomach.



A red, itchy rash resulted from the Sulfa antibiotic I had been taking for the past week. Wonderful. The fun didn't stop there. The next day my throat began to swell shut and Carl had to take me to the Granby emergency room where I received a shot (yes a shot for the needle weenie) of epinepherine and lots of IV fluids. What a way to start vacation.

On the upside, the girls had fun at Granby's awesome park while I waited for my body to return to a normal state. These pictures do not do the park justice. Maybe we can return once more and take pictures that show the enormous amount of wooden play structures the park provides.





The ER doctor informed me that sulfa drugs can stay in my system for several days, so if I felt that lump-in-my-throat-closing-up feeling again, I was to call 911 or return to the ER. Comforting, huh? I spent the next 24 hours alternating between panic that I might be feeling my throat's final closure and sleep induced by the Benadryl I took to counteract the fear.

Here's the idiotic part. Before my first feeling of panic, assuming all was well, we chose our primitive campsite, eleven miles up the mountain, a journey that took just over 35 minutes. What were we thinking???

Like I told you, the Tahoe was LOADED!

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Setting up camp

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This picture tells quite a story

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Katie by the stream that runs just below our campsite. The sound is calming and peaceful.

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Katie and Hannah by the same stream

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OK, can you tell I especially like the stream?

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Once we set up camp, Carl took the three girls on a hike while I remained behind to read and relax. All went well and Carl took some excellent pictures, but I'll have to wait to post them next time. All is well!

By the way, this is a "scheduled" post that I actually wrote on July 23. I won't have access to my computer before Saturday. I LOVE LOVE LOVE comments, but please understand if I don't reply to your comments immediately.

Dandy Encounter

One of my vacation lists included items to place in a "Friday Night Bag," so that we could take only one bag into Pop and Ardy's house instead of trying to find all we needed throughout several different suitcases. In it I placed beauty products, pajamas, medicine, and Saturday's clothes. Because I would be meeting Laurie's family for the first time, I took special care in choosing our clothes for Saturday--no scummy camping clothes for that get-together even though we would be setting up camp that evening.

Anticipating Hannah's messiness (as documented by every single picture we've taken of her so far this vacation), I packed a cute, new outfit and included a bib and an over sized t-shirt to wear over the new clothes for protection. Surely we could make the three-hour trip to Denver in relative cleanliness.

Wrong.

First, I decided to keep the shirt in the front seat instead of on Hannah in order to protect it. From Hannah. I didn't consider that I might need to protect it from me. I placed the shirt in a box that rested on the front floor's "hump," directly under our cup holder. I positioned my bottle of Coke--with the cap ON--in the cup holder while I hunted for my new camera's instruction booklet. BAM! Carl hit a huge bump on I-70. For a few seconds I couldn't identify the spewing sound. When I finally realized the bottle of Coke had landed on the new shirt and burst open, it was too late. So much for the cute shirt.

Oh well, the lime green gingham shorts with a ruffled hemline remained clean. I could scrounge up something to match before we hit Denver.

Of course, Hannah chose to sit on the ground at the rest stop and get her butt dirty. However, even that no longer mattered after she wet her pants. Three hours, people. Can we not make it three hours???

When we finally arrived at Laurie's, Hannah wore the over sized protective t-shirt that completely covered Friday's shorts like a dress. Nobody cared except me...and even I didn't care any more after the warm welcome we received.

We planned to stay at Laurie's for one--maybe one and a half--hours. We ended up staying closer to two and a half hours and I could've stayed hours more. We only scratched the surface. The sandwiches were wonderful, served with triangle wedges of fresh red watermelon, orange slices of cantaloupe and pasta salad. I couldn't believe the hospitality we received from someone we had never actually met.

Hannah and Rose, our two dandy girls, took a little while to warm up to each other, but eventually played together very well. I wish I had a better picture than this one. Can you believe Rose is only one and a half years older than Hannah???




The hit of the visit? Dry ice. Awesome! Peter, Laurie's husband, teaches 7th and 8th grade science and clearly loves his subject. Carl couldn't even get him with his typical Have you ever seen anyone suck an egg into a bottle question. Yep. Been there, done that. Peter could even explain why it's possible.

We had dry ice on stage during my high school musical, but never have I played with it. The kids added food coloring and hot water to make smoking concoctions.








At one point Hailey cut her toe so that a tiny droplet of blood bubbled, but did not run. I felt right at home and knew I had found a like-minded sister when Laurie and I said in unison, "If that's the worst thing that happens to you..."

When we finally decided not to overstay our welcome, Hannah exhibited her usual discomfort in making the transition by throwing a somewhat mild fit. It was a new and welcome experience to hear someone else say with an understanding that comes only from experience, "I know. Transitions are hard, aren't they, Hannah?" I'm still processing the fact that I've met someone in person who is also raising a dandy girl, complete with transitional difficulties, sensory stuff, special classrooms...the whole shebang. What a blessing.

Here are our two special girls just before saying goodbye.



Thanks again, Laurie, Peter and Andy (I didn't even mention Andy--ack!) for a wonderful visit. Next time you're traveling through scenic southeast Kansas, stop on by.

Vacation Day One

Vacation. Holiday. R & R. Call it what you want. The Solomon family needed it. This year we are camping in the Colorado Rockies, my favorite place in the world.

Before we had children Carl and I camped just outside of Breckenridge, Colorado over the fourth of July weekend, pitching our tent high up the mountain where two streams converged. Our nearest camping neighbors set up camp about one hundred yards away, but otherwise we were secluded. Beautiful. Carl got rip roaring drunk with our new neighbors the first night while I slept cozily in six layers and when he returned to our tent he crashed, wearing only one pair of long underwear. This proved to be a poor decision when he stepped outside a few hours later, feeling sick and hung over, to find snow on the ground.

Recalling the beauty of that campsite and the fun we had, we decided to find it and camp there this year.

We packed the Tahoe to the brim, made sure the DVD/VHS and headphones worked and left home within an hour of our planned departure time, a miracle that gave us high hopes for the week ahead.





This is one of many stops we made.



We arrived at Pop and Ardy's in time to grill burgers and enjoy conversation. I'm kicking myself for not taking a single picture while we were there.

After breakfast we loaded up again and drove to Denver to meet Laurie and her family IN PERSON! I "met" Laurie online last year when I searched for other dandy families and we hit it off immediately.

I know this is an abrupt ending to this post, but I've run out of time. Tune in tomorrow...well, hopefully tomorrow...to see pictures at Laurie's house and hear about Plan B.

Hey, Laurie--do you have any good pictures of our visit? I'd love to post them if you e-mail them to me.

Neurotic Vacation Preparation

We're leaving for vacation soon, which puts me in an obsessive, freaky frame of mind. I've mentioned my love of lists many times before, but nothing brings out the maniacal list-maker in me more than planning a trip.

I didn't realize how abnormally anal I was until I traveled to Florida with Sheri in May of 2007. In preparation I compiled a travel folder in which I placed our rental car and flight information, informative e-mails between Sheri and her sister (who graciously and generously boarded us), and a printout from weather.com so that we could anticipate rain and sun. What's so strange about that?

Evidently the answer to that question is: the weather printout. I've never heard the end of it.

Recently I created a daily list of vacation-preparation things to do, properly categorized on dull yellow legal paper under the headings Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc. and mistakenly left it on my table when Sheri stopped in for her break. "I see you have your list. Have you made your folder yet?" she asked with a wicked gleam in her eye, dragging the word folder through a little puddle of sarcasm.

Like I said, I've never heard the end of it. heh heh.

When I mentioned my Florida folder to mom, she said, "Yeah, and...?" as if it were the most normal thing in the world: who doesn't make a travel folder? Then she proceeded to show me all she had done to prepare for her trip to Alaska this August. Suddenly my self-perception shifted from borderline psycho to laid-back blasé.

More recently I explained to mom that we needed to leave early enough one morning to arrive in time to grill burgers for supper with my dad & Ardy. They live about eight hours away. "You could do what I've done when I've needed to leave early in the morning. The night before, lay out your clothes, shoes, and socks; set out your breakfast; put everything you can into the car; and put toothpaste on your toothbrushes by the sink.

She lost me at the toothpaste bit. First, I cannot imagine being organized enough to accomplish that. Second, Hannah would probably rise before all of us and paint the mirror with five loaded toothbrushes. Or consume all the toothpaste and go into fluoride shock...or whatever happens when a child swallows that much toothpaste. Finally, well, Mom, that's just a little loony.

In my world, "neurotic" is relative...and for once it appears that I'm normal. Relatively.

Rats! We Have Bats!

Between a broken laptop screen and a recent infection (in my body, not my laptop), I have been completely absent from the Internet. Now that I have a new (yes new, woohoo!) laptop and several antibiotic doses in me, I'm back online wasting my time. Or honing my creative writing skills. Perception is everything.

Because I hadn't blogged for days, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to come up with anything. This proved to be a needless fear. I should have known.

The evening I returned home with my spankin' new computer, a bat flew into our garage, then circled round and round, unable to find the exit. Yes. A bat. It finally found a way out, directly into the almost-finished French door room, so we all hovered around the doorway watching the bat circle the blue walls. I observed, captivated, until it darted towards the spot where I sat--operative word: sat -- unable to quickly stand up and run away. I returned to the living room while the rest of the crew monitored the rat with wings.

When Carl and the girls joined me, I asked them where the bat was. "In the French door room hanging from the trim," they answered, looking at me with duh all over their faces.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. The bat has to go."

Carl immediately got up and said, "I'll get it out of the French door room." A little too immediately. After nearly fifteen years of marriage, I know how his deceptive mind works.

"Outside. The bat goes outside. Out. Side."

"I'll see what I can do," he said.

Keep in mind, we don't have curtains on any of the four French-door-room windows. When the lights are on at night, being in that room is like being on a drive-in movie screen. So what did Carl do to free the bat? He opened the French doors (which face the street, by the way), stood on the bed, and shooed out the bat. In his underwear.

Holy bat-show, Batman.