Bikes, Horses and Poop

I'll start with the first last because, as we all know, it's best to get poop out of the way first. Silvia did not want to potty train. Do you hear me? NONONO. I tried, I really did, to get her at least comfortable with the idea, but after about a week she went into rock-solid denial and I was forced to retreat and regroup.

Then suddenly, two days ago she was all, "Hey! I want my panties. I will not wear anything but panties, don't come near me with those diapers or you will live to regret it!". At first I was thrilled. And then the reality of it sunk in-- specifically, into the carpet. She's aware, she knows when something is happening down below but, for the most part, she's not really participating in the whole Big Picture of the thing.

Yesterday we went through 5 pairs of panties, and one had to be thrown away after the aforementioned poop episode. I will not bore you (or traumatize you) with the details. Finally around 3 o'clock she condescended to wear a pull-up and save my aching back from scrubbing floors.

It hasn't totally been a loss, she is having some success and I am releived she's at least ready to start consciously trying, but all this is bringing back the reality that I HATE POTTY TRAINING. I have, quite literally, blocked out the entired process that we went through with Anna. I vaguely remember cleaning off the couch and sitting in the floor reading 7 books to her as she made her efforts, but that's about it. Hopefully, in a few months I will be able to block this period out with equal effiency.

Horses and bikes are much more pleasant to cover, so let's move on. About a month ago, I arrived at the girls' school to find that everyone had brought in their little bikes. Everyone, that is, except my kids who did not have a bike to boast of. After school, Anna told me with a gently wistful tone that, "All the kids rode their bikes down the street and had helmets and it was so fun!", and then... "I walked. I didn't have a bike so Miss Diane held my hand instead."

Oh, the heartache.

We went out that weekend and got them bikes and helmets and the rest is history. The happiness can not be explained but fortunately, I captured it all in pictures. Same goes for horses-- rocking horses. It's all just sisterly cuteness and needs not introduction.

Trip to Beulah with Renee and company

Beautiful

For some reason I can't paste anything into blogger, and since I have no desire to type in the html by hand, I'll just leave you this link and let you go ALL THE WAY OVER to another web page to look at some pictures from the 4th of July weekend. I know, it's a lot of work, but please bear with me during this time of Blogger trial.

As for the holiday weekend, we spent the actual 4th up at a friend's house in Monument to see the fireworks over Palmer Lake. It was nice, but the best part of the evening was watching the kids (all little girls) ran rampant through the house and dress up as fairies and princesses while collapsing into fits of giggles, as little girls are wont to do.

Well, that and the fact that one friend brought a whole container of homemade pineapple vodka. I couldn't drink much, I have no tolerance at all, but what I did have... yum! Now THAT is a holiday.

On the 5th we drove up to Breckenridge, one of our favorite retreats. It's about 2 hours away and the girls are usually pretty happy the whole trip, now that they've been conditioned to fall asleep once we hit the mountain passes. It was raining the whole time we were in the city proper but by the time we headed to Lake Dillon the sun had come out and the girls had a blast peppering the water with big handfuls of gravel. (I am sure all the people fishing loved us.)

Unfortunately, all the lake pictures are on Kurt's camera and I am, once again, having technical difficulties retrieving them. Look for it in a few days.

Breckenridge Pictures Link, redux