First, I took the kids to the Las Madres 2004 group's Easter party. It was in a lovely setting at a church, with an indoor and outdoor play area, a large auditorium for lunch and storytime, and a wonderful courtyard inbetween for egg hunting.
Katrina played in this Fred-Flintstone car for over half an hour, then had a great time toodling around the courtyard. A little separation anxiety would be nice, as she had no compunction about going far away and out of sight, and screeched when I brought her back.
Meantime, the boys listened to the storytime, with some help from bunny ears, and then went on the egg hunt with the rest of the group.
Katrina didn't get the concept of hunting for eggs, but she had a good time putting eggs in and out of a basket. She was edgy and demanding, so we left right after the egg hunt. (She fell asleep in the car in about 5 minutes, and went on to a 3-hour nap at home!)
After Katrina's nap, we went on our first letterbox hunt! It happened that the very first letterbox that showed up when I looked on Atlas Quest was one I recognized as Stacey's first letterbox plant. And, it was at Rancho San Antonio, where I haven't been since my ankle troubles started. This was just too perfect. I had a simple letterboxing kit ready (a logbook, a stamp, an inkpad and a pen), and off we all went!
The main reason to do this was met immediately: the boys had a great time running around. I wasn't sure how I'd feel going back to Rancho while still injured -- would I feel overwhelmingly sad about missing running? Or glad to be back? Overall, happier than sad, and still cautiously optimistic that I'll be back.
Anyway, I knew the trail where we were headed well, and we had fun following the clue (though Julian was afraid there would be bears). We found the letterbox without too much trouble, and the boys were thrilled!
I had high hopes that Katrina wouldn't be a liability, but she really was. I'm glad Dave was there to keep her occupied while the boys and I attended to the business of stamping the letterbox's logbook, and then stamping our own logbook (with the stamp stashed in the letterbox). Katrina pushed the jogging stroller around while Dave kept an eye on her, as she screeched if we stopped for even a moment (and boy did she put up a fuss going back in the stroller). I'm going to love letterboxing, but I'm not going to love having her with us on our excursions until she's older.
We carefully tucked the letterbox back away and headed back, satisfied with a job well done. Julian, still concerned about bears, was holding my hand, and said happily, "I love you so much Mom -- so much, I wish I had another!" Uhh, thanks, I think. After some more talking, it seemed that the gender imbalance of our family had him concerned, so he thought we needed another Mom.
As it turns out, I got my chance to run after all, because Gabriel got way, way ahead of us, and I went after him (it happened I was wearing an old pair of running shoes, with inserts). It was about 3/10 of a mile, and I'm still waiting to see how my tendons react. The short run was a disaster for the migraine (day 3), triggering new waves of pain, and also showed me how I'm quickly losing the running condition I was in. Cursed ankles! Gabriel's shrug when confronted about running out of sight was more annoying than the offense itself. That kid has no remorse.
We made an impromptu visit to our friend Kevin, and his fiance Angela's, house. It's huge, new and beautiful. Should we have....? Oh never mind.
We had Grand Plans to night-train the boys tonight, together! The bedwetting alarm is here, and we'd talked to both boys about wearing underpants tonight. But our plans went afoul on numerous counts. First, Julian was really, really tired -- too tired to talk him up about it. Next, we realized we don't have enough pee pads to change in the middle of the night for both of them. So, one boy a time, starting with Gabriel. We thought. But Gabriel refused to put on the alarm. He just doesn't care. Actually, he does care -- he doesn't want to night-train. Good old Gabriel, finding yet another case in which most methods don't apply -- all the bedwetting advice assumes the kid wants to night-train. He shrugged and said almost with a laugh that he'd just wear Pull-Ups for another year. Wanting to night-train is an essential component of success, so we'll work on Julian first.
A rich and full Saturday, just how I like them.
3/8/08
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