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From Fall Foto Shoot '08

From Fall Foto Shoot '08

From Fall Foto Shoot '08

From Fall Foto Shoot '08

Unexpected Adventures

Wow its been a while, but I suppose it's summer.

So ... it seems like every once in a while you end up doing something during your day that you never would have thought you'd do when you woke up that morning. I would say "goat chasing" falls into that category for me. I know some of you may have a goat chasing habit you just can't kick, so goat chasing is a daily trial for you. Not me. Oddly enough, goat chasing is a rare occurrence, even since we've moved to Iowa.

We decided to go for a bike ride this afternoon. It was a gorgeous day, so we both took off a little early from work and headed down a trail close to town. Halfway down the trail, we noticed a bunch of goats in a pen near the trail, so decided to introduce Amalia to them. We were petting them and heard a scared "Maaaaaa" coming from further down the fence. Yes, it was a "scared"Maaaaaa. Anyone who knows nothing about goats would know it was a "scared" Maaaaaa. Also, yes, it was a "Maaaaaa," the stereotypical goat sound. There's no better way to describe it. So by now you realize it's a goat ... we looked toward the sound and saw a baby goat (those of you who have graduated from the third grade might call the baby goat by its scientific name: a "kid"). Anyway, the baby goat was outside the pen and "Maaaaing" longingly for his mother inside. What were we to do? Clearly this baby goat needed his mother and was separated from his family by this unforgiving, impenetrable, Berlin-like wall (actually, the goat was still able to nurse through the gaping holes in the wire fence). Should we try to find out who owns this goat? No. Should we call the police? No. Should we chase this goat around until it's scared out of its mind and then grab him and throw him over the fence? Absolutely ... what else would a decent passerby do?

This little goat was smart and agile. It's not that we're dumb and slow - he was smart and agile. We must have chased him around for 45 minutes. We were dodging, running, hiding, and cooing, trying to corner this little creature. Every once in a while we'd have to remind ourselves to check where our daughter was, but honestly, there were more important things going on than making sure our daughter was still alive.

Finally, the little goat made a grave mistake. He thought he'd be safe by running between a building and the pen, but together, with one mind and lighting fast reflexes, we went on each side of the building to trap him. The goat had been beaten, and he knew it. We could see the shadow of defeat creeping over his face, but suddenly, unexpectedly, he made a last desperate run for an opening near Ang. Knowing what kind of small spaces he could squeeze through, Ang quickly grabbed a nearby rusty wagon and slid it across the opening. Meanwhile, I sprinted after the goat. When he reached the wagon, he leaped to clear it, but I (with the agility of a small goat-like creature) grabbed him by the waist ("in mid-air, mind you") and wrestled him into my grasp. The goat let out a loud "MAAAAA." I quickly found the nearest spot to place him over the fence, holding him away from my body like he was wet dog. I placed him over the fence, and all the other goats surrounded him, hugged him, and prepared a feast in his honor.

The baby goat was reunited with his mother and family ... our work here was done ... I really hope no one was watching.

The Cabin

For a few weekends now, Amalia has been experiencing some of the same experiences I had as a child by "going to the cabin." Our family has a little A-frame on a lake about an hour away, so we've been spending some weekends there. I think she likes the water - she hasn't gone in the lake much since it's still pretty cold, but she definitely likes the sand and being outside.

The past few weeks have been busy ones for us. First was Amalia's birthday complete with a small party. It is really hard for me to believe that she is a year old already. Time goes really, really quickly these days and it seems like she changes so fast. She is walking quite well these days and we often laugh at her waddling around on her little legs.

It was Festival time again this past weekend. I very much enjoyed spending time in my costume again, and Amalia enjoyed wearing hers for the first time. Thanks to her Oma for her sewing ability and willingness to try what ended up being a little more complicated than I thought. You can't tell from the pictures, but the little apron has lots of fancy stuff on it!
Ryan is not wearing a costume which is entirely my fault. I was tasked with finding one for him to wear and failed my assignment.
Bridget came and spent the day with us on Saturday. She entertained Amalia while we were posing for pictures. This is pretty much the only shot we have with a nice smile. She smiles quite a lot but never in front of the camera.

I'm "sick" of it

Okay, 2 stomach flus, 1 actual week-long flu, 4 ear aches that we're sure about, 2 sinus infections, the chicken pox, and countless colds over the last 4 months. I honestly don't know if this is a lot for one 1-year old or not, but it sure seems like a lot to me. Amalia is now sick with her 2nd stomach flew and I'm not sure if I can take it anymore. She seems surprisingly resilient, but I'm not that optimistic. Just when we think we're almost out of it (it IS Spring...) she gets the chicken pox, an ear ache, and now the stomach flu within a week. I HATE daycare.

Suggestions Please

Any suggestions for a new title for this blog? We no longer reside in frogtown, so the current title doesn't make much sense. I am seriously struggling with demonstrating any shred of creativity and I don't want to leave it all to my dear husband - so any suggestions would be most welcome.

Today at work I witnessed one of our educators at work in the classroom. 9th graders are really funny. I almost laughed aloud a few times, but thought that might be slightly rude. The educator and I discussed it afterward and she is of the opinion that 8th graders often act more mature than 9th graders because they feel like they need to act like the oldest in the school. 9th graders, on the other hand, realize that they aren't and so don't even try. Like I said, they are funny. The teacher told me that their seating is completely voluntary, and yet, it was completely segregated. There was a space in the middle of the classroom for the projector and a couple of rows of seats on either side of the central aisle. It was girls on the right and boys on the left. Apparently in one of his other class periods there are two more boys than can fit on the left side, so it is a race to get to the classroom since the last two boys in the room have to sit on the "girls" side. Did I mention that the topic today was sex, as in reasons not to have sex when you are a teenager? Like the fact that you don't even sit on the same side of the classroom!

March is a tease

I've noticed how pretty much everyone I talk to around here is talking about the weather. I know how people talk about the weather for small talk and to talk about something, but this is more than that. I think winter this year has been a little too long and a little too snowy and cold. Worse yet, March is just a cruel tease. We'll have 50 degree temperatures one day, then in the low 30s the next with sleet and snow. That's why March is the worst month of the year. If I were to hate one month above all other months, March would be it, and I wouldn't even care if March felt bad about it. March offers glimpses of Spring, and then snatches that hope away with its cruel, icy-cold fingers. Maybe that's a glass-half-empty mindset, but really, this is just an excuse to post another picture of Amalia - looks like she's ready to get outside too.