4 Corners Quest - Day 10: Battle of the Four Corners

4 kids

4 Corners

Coincidence?

I think not.

The Monument is in the middle of nowhere, is not in the least attractive, added a good 3-4 hours of driving, and was considered of vital interest to the #4CornersQuest participants.

The above photo was planned and negotiated more than a few times by its participants. Who is to stand where?

Emily claimed New Mexico as her birthright.

In turn, Garrett wanted whatever state was closest to China, initially estimated to be Utah, given that China is north of whatever is below it, and Utah is north of Arizona.

Elizabeth, however, with her newfound love for Arches N.P., had her eye on Utah as well.

"Garrett, I think Arizona is closer to China. Right, dad?"

Catching what she was trying to do, knowing that neither kid had a clue which state was "closer" to China, not sure myself, and not averse to lying to decrease potential tension, I followed suit, "Yep, Arizona is like 5 or 6 feet closer on the angle. It's close, but has been survey verified."

All was well, as Elizabeth and Garrett made peace with their appropriate locations.

Louise, generally casual about things that don't actually matter, gladly accepted Colorado.

Border crossing and free-trade agreements are being negotiated.

4 Corners Quest - Day 6 - Fitbittered

FITBITTERED | adjective | \fit bit-er-d\ | origin: middle-class white America | The feeling experienced when one's exercise tracking device run's out of batteries just before attempting and/or accomplishing a cardio event, thereby preventing the wearer of said device from basking in the sense of accomplishment and bragging to their 'friends' on Facebook.

Examples:
Alan's recent laziness has been tracked and recorded for posterity on his iPhone app. When he finally worked up a small sweat walking amiably with his wife and kids for 2.6 (let's round up to) 4 miles, he was FITBITTERED to discover that his Fitbit Charge HR was out of batteries. 

How is Alan to 
know, verify and prove 
the exact length, average/peak heart rate, calories burned, 
AND, with his iPhone, show the GPS route
of his bimonthly exercise
with his FitBit batteries on the fritz?
He is FITBITTERED.

4 Corner Quest - Day 5 - Accidental Hipster

In the summer of 2000, the Mrs and I were newlyweds living the dream. 450 sq.ft. brown shag carpet apartment in the Upper West Side (of ABQ) overlooking the Mesa. Enough fundage to walk to Dion's
on Thursday night for $8 sub and salad combo with a $1 movie rental from Hastings.
Given the incoming bundle of joy, we took every weekend opportunity to hike and camp New Mexico. We had months to attempt what would take years to accomplish.
As Gus and Call fans, we found ourselves hiking a small slot canyon on the Cochiti Pueblo reservation, searching out the Lonesome Dove movie scenes. It was a great day and lasting memory; Maggie and I were alone in the wilderness, climbing and being told not to climb. Good stuff.
Things have changed a bit these last 15 years. Tent Rocks the hidden gem is now Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument, run by the BLM, with a pay station, parking lot, rules (about climbing things; apparently, the Mrs. was right on that one; something about "heritage site"). And being Memorial Day, it was just a bit crowded. Easily 200 people throughout the hike; as we went up the slot canyon, we had to wait for others to come down (the narrow passages); as we went down, we waited for those going up.
It is just possible that the adults in the family grumped a bit.
Back in the day, there was no one here. 
We just stumbled upon it and hiked right in.
I liked this place better before it was discovered. 
It's not cool anymore. 
Maggie and I were having a great time making sure our kids didn't have a great time, until the Mrs. blurted out, "We sound like hipsters!"
It cut me like a knife.
It was a close call.
In hindsight, our petrified memories were doing their best to prevent us from a loverly day, including:

• crisp blue sky with cumulus clouds rolling along,
• a 4-mile hike up a canyon with 5 of TheBowling6 having a great time,
• No one falling off any ledges or down any ravines,
• 12 perfect legs and 6 perfect heads,
• Post hike picnic with fresh tortillas, smoked Patak meat, and a High Life, 
• Followed up by a roadside-stand purchased Navajo Taco (the Pueblos call it "Indian Taco", but we all know the truth), and
• A small bit of memory romance with my Mrs. 

  

 

Where We've Been So Far...

The Bowling Six is planning its next Westward Road Trip.
In our previous jaunt, we ventured up to Mt. Rushmore and had a fabulous time, as remembered here.

Below is a record of where we've been to date, with the intention of adding to the list next month.

The Bowling Six through 2012

Just how old is she?

Watching the opening scenes of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe with the kids. 

Trying to teach them about the events of the opening scenes: the Blitz, air raids, dad off to war, moving away to the country, etc.

They were rather more interested in the ages of the four Pevensie children, finally settling on Lucy (6), Edmund (8), Susan (11) and Peter (13). There was some controversy on Lucy's age.

Elizabeth: "She looks way older than 6. I think she's 7."

Garrett: "Dad, does she have a birthday in this movie, because she looks like she's 7."

Me: "We'll see." (magic words, handed down from generation to generation)

Elizabeth: "Well, I think she's 6 1/2"

Garrett: "Yeah, 6 1/2"

Why we do things...

In the car this morning, with Garrett (8) and Elizabeth (7):

G: "Uhmm, dad, is this car one year old?"

It isn't, but we bought a used one recently.

Me: "Sure"
G: "Cause we bought it in February, right?"
Me: "Yes"
G: "We bought a car in February because we needed something to drive. We bought a fridge [last week] because we needed one. And the Chinuntdets bought a house so Alex would have somewhere to put his dinosaurs."
El: "Yep, it's a pattern"

Single Father, Day 1

It is good to start out optimistic; helps to gain some momentum when heading into a challenging situation. The four remaining Bowlings (with Emily in Kentucky and mom in London enjoying coffee and mimosas at Gatwick International) took the hour drive up to Lake Arrowhead, where I spent many years working. 

After 20 minutes of being sandwiched between her younger siblings in my car, Louise broke down, acted irrationally, and disobeyed her father, a very rare event. 

We swam in a pool shaped like an arrowhead, with dad winning the belly flop contest (I have my pride). 

We at lunch at the clubhouse, overlooking the 18th fairway. That's my lot, right there, through those trees; the one that I thought would have a great view of the golf course when I bought it, but was mistaken. I'll sell it to you for whatever you've got in your pocket. 

Eliza ordered chips and queso. Garrett ordered homemade potato chips with blue cheese dip. Louise ordered cheeseburger with sweet potato fries. I ordered a spinach salad.

We desired to go swim in the lake, but it started thundering. So we spent an hour on a fabulous playground until the sprinkle turned to pour and then returned home. Louise rode up front, which I'm not sure is legal; but I could not in good conscience put her between the tweedles. 

Garrett was in rare form. I have been convinced by my wife and a large gathering of other parents-of-young-boys that his combination of obtuse statements/questions and general cluelessness of his surroundings is 'perfectly normal'. At one point (and let me make clear, this is just one of many potential items to share), as we were getting out of the car to eat lunch, with 3 doors open and 3 people getting out of the car, Garrett asked "can I get out of the car?". To counter my internal sarcastic responses (they stayed internal for the most part), I reviewed 1 Corinthians 13, Love is patient, love is kind... it always perseveres.

Ready for Emily to return home, with her mom closely following.

A glimpse of things to come...

The Bowling house is blessed with dozens of mature oaks, shading us from the summer heat and establishing an adventurous childhood setting. While the beauty is idyllic, the constant encroachment of nature unites Bowling dad with suburbanites across this great nation in the trench warfare of grass-growing.

In our sixth season, the movement of fallen leaves from green to brown areas of the property has been effectively mastered, spurred on by Bowling mom's desire for order, dad's desire to be outside away from the noise of the kids, and the children's desire to make leaf piles. A solid 6-hour day (replete with Waffle House and Target toy section bribery) cleanses the yard of its accumulated debris... almost.

For while we have historically had squirrels living in every part and parcel of our land (a bit on this matter found here), they do not care for our acorns. The tiny little buggers escape the rakes, ignore the blowers, and are too many to count. At the end of clean-up day, you are too tired to care about such trivialities, allowing nature to outflank Bowling dad and sow the seeds to next Spring's patchy-grass.

While the property's rodents have proven uninterested in these acorns, the children proved otherwise, spurred on by a simple "Penny an Acorn" trade in program, modeled off of the questionably successful city's Anonymous Gun Buy Back Program the family volunteers at each year.

In the one hour program window, Emily and Louise partnered with the neighborhood Huck Finn to collect 1,100 acorns, split 3 ways, walking away with $4.00 each (I rounded up). Elizabeth and Garrett (and let me be clear who was in charge of this venture) continued working while Bowling dad counted the other team's earnings, and then begged for an extension. After two hours of collection, they turned in 2,200 acorns ($12 for Eliza, $10 for Garrett (don't ask)). Bowling mom was not pleased with Bowling dad. Bowling dad sees this as an investment in next year's greenery.

On my Birthday...

Needless to say (except in this circumstance, of course), Garrett has used this term in the upper 1000s of times in the past couple of weeks. One cannot accuse him of not being singularly focused.

And yes, in two days, this classic gooberhead will turn 6 years old. It was touch and go for a while, not sure if he was going to pull it out and actually turn six. A rash outbreak of bed-wetting in April put it in peril, "Garrett, if you do this again, I am not going to let you turn six." I'm not sure if the random nature of such reversions to infancy or my clearly articulated position on his ability to grow up motivated him, but the bed's been dry.

Garrett's social circle is rather limited, hampered by him being the only son with three sisters, Maggie play-dating with mostly girl-oriented families, Alex being out of town this weekend, as well as his age. But we pulled out a rather enjoyable McD hang with dad and kindergarten friend Noble. He got an hour on the indoor playground, a Kung Fu Panda 2 shooting object (made in his hometown, about his hometown), and a Cars 2 lego set (again, made in his hometown, while set in a neighbor historically pivoted as a rival state, but which has shown a general cooling of tensions in recent decades). All in all, not bad.

This preliminary event is merely the lead up to Monday night, where Garrett has requested a birthday dinner at IHOP, "my favorite place." I would wait to write then, so as to be able to capture the full nature of this event; but I fear that I will be exhausted by both experiencing and discussing his birthday.

First time for everything

So when Garrett came inside on Saturday afternoon crying, I immediately went to the old standby: "Crying doesn't make you better. Stop crying kid."

He calmed a bit after a while of me waiting on him, and then explained that he had fallen from his scooter. Seems like some portion of his arm hurt, although we couldn't clarify the exact state of the injury.

"You're OK. Don't worry about it," words of calm wisdom from his father, "run it off."

He stayed inside the remainder of the day, holding his arm limp. "Probably just bruised it."

Sunday morning G-man wasn't able to straighten the arm. Daddy was, "See Garrett, you just have to pull it straight." He winced a bit, but didn't cry. At least he is learning. We'll just wrap it in an ACE bandage.

Monday morning it might seem a bit worse, but really, we shouldn't worry about it. He's a strong kid, and hasn't complained out loud. Seems like Mom had different ideas, and after a quick trip to Urgent Care, found that Garrett had a "FAT PACK" on his elbow, which apparently indicates a stress fracture. Three weeks in a cast. Maggie should have asked the doctors what the fat packs on G's eyelids, palms and feet indicate.

I've had 26 total years of parenting over four kids, and every time prior to now the "get over it, stop crying" routine has worked effectively. Maybe this experience will result in a kinder, gentler dad. Maybe not.

Cool Runnings

A quick note before I crawl into my sleeping bag. It is 10:45 and we've just walked a half-mile from the movie screen to our campsite. Garrett and Eliza are fast asleep, and Mommy is reading in the warmth of the laundry room across the drive.

We cut things short at Animal Kingdom today to meet Ethan and Micah for a quick play-date at the Trail's End restaurant, with a night-cap of campfire marshmallows, singing and dancing with Chip and Dale.

As the rest of the crowd succumbed to the call of the pillow, Louise, Daddy and I shivered our way through a drive-thru style screening of Cool Runnings, which I believe is one of John Candy's last great performances. Surrounded by planners and their woolen blankets, we held ourselves close and endured.

This week has been packed full of fun. This moment will be one I proudly remember. Goodnight.

Opening Ceremonies

Eliza:
Things began well this morning. We woke at first light to the sound of 58-passenger diesel buses stopping within a stones throw of what we had been led to believe was a pristine campsite, but were quickly on our way across the water to Magic Kingdom.

Arriving with the gates still held shut by pixie dust, we were welcomed by Mickey and all of his compatriots and then allowed to follow the rush to the center of the universe. Garrett was trampled, but the rest of us passed through unscathed.

Mom was jonesing for some coffee, so dad took us to the first ride we found: Stitch's Great Escape.

Things went well right up until the start of the experience, which is when they strapped us into our seats, turned the lights out, started blowing smoke in our face, commenced to screaming, and had faintly glowing images of Stitch jumping through the room. It had all of the elements of a joy-filled memorable Disney ride experience except joy, happiness and the sense that we were not going to be eaten.

All was well when they stopped 90 seconds later, with me curled under Daddy's right arm and Garrett curled under his left. He wiped our tears away and promised us ice-cream. Where is Mommy? Let's hope that the day improves from here.

I'll stand on the stairs...

"DADDY, DADDY", they both exclaim as they hurry around the upstairs corner into my room.

"There's a sound, a 'Grrr..., Gruhhhh', in the kitchen," Eliza announces.

"It's just the refrigerator", I dismiss.

"NO, it's coming from the PANTRY!" she insists, this time encouraging the requisite buy-in from her counterpart.
"Yeah."

"Oh," I reply, "I'm sure its a giant pickle," relying on theme humor to remove the intensity from their a-feared eyes.

"OK," she announces, "Garrett, let's go downstairs to see what it is. I'll stand on the stairs while you go see."

Wedgie Store

In post-birthday party letdown, as the sugar highs were dissipating, each of the Bowling Four were lounging rather complacently. Garrett was walking in circles through the living room blowing his party favor and giggling to himself.

"Emily, go sit on your brother", I suggested, in hopes to break his cycle.

Within moments, each of the children were taking turns sitting on each other, an activity that soon devolved into minor league wrestling.

As fan attendance waned, however, Louise realized she needed to ramp up the group energy.

"Daddy," (that is me, sitting on the couch watching) "you are the store, and you sell wedgies".

After a moment of continued wrestling and not much being sold at the store, Louise ran upstairs and returned with a stack of toys. "Daddy, you can sell these toys and people will pay for them with wedgies".

At this point the crowd divided into two distinct parties. Garrett and Eliza tentatively lined up at the store entrance, enticed by the toys, but hesitant about the cost of entry. Emily and Louise served as maitre d on commission, seeking to secure sales.

It took only a moment for Garrett's desire to obtain Buzz Lightyear (it's an action figure, NOT a doll) to overcome his nerves. He about-faced and was lifted off the ground, giggling throughout. Eliza, never one to be outdone, stormed in to take his place. Realizing the humor and the lack of pain, they rushed around their table, toy in one hand, ready to get in line again. They did not want their favorite toys being given to others.

The store's life was short-lived, with its founder and principle inspiration finally entering the doors and earning a toy of her own.

Better watch your back, part 2

So I was sitting in the living room a bit ago, quietly reading or the like, with Eliza by my side (I keep my eye on her now) coloring Ariel (from now on, when I say 'coloring', you can go ahead and assume I mean 'coloring Ariel'. Just consider it shorthand).

Garrett, who has a 'space' issue (from now on, when I say 'space', please understand that I actually mean 'no space', as in 'there's no space left between Garrett and the moment's object of attention').
Garrett, who has a 'space' issue, you could argue was crowding Eliza, just checking in on the coloring progress.

In what one might call a bit of slapstick short-sightedness, Eliza turns, places one of her hands on each of his shoulders, and pushes him.
Me, sitting in my quiet reading pose, have my legs just so.
And Garrett, weighing in at 27 lbs sopping wet, rotates head over back-heals around my ankles, ending up on his back, feet in the air.

You cannot script this.

my elbow pop

daddy was playing ball with garrett yesterday. then he turned on me. no warning. just grabbed me by the ankles (i was sitting criss-cross, apple-sauce, like the good little girl that i am) and flipped me over.
well, i wasn't having any of that. so i put my arm back to catch myself
and my elbow popped.

after a bit of crying, a long nap, a trip to the orange store with doors and nail guns, mommy decided to take me to Scottish Rite, which included a trip to McDonald's, a very expensive ring from the Happy Meal, two kids movies, a hairy doctor, and a quick fix.

i got a balloon. and i got to stay up until 11:30.

i don't know why daddy tried to roll me like a ball yesterday. that's for Garrett. don't do it to me again.

She likes it, she really likes it.

We may as well own up that we weren't all that sure that Louise would take to this 'school' bit. Last year, as a homeschoolin' kindergartener, life was not exactly a bastion of cooperation.

About two months ago, in a manner eerily similar to the chronology of her pottie-training experience, after a full year of attempting to teach Louise to read, she went off into the corner by herself, made sure no one was watching her succeed, and started reading books without a problem. ... as long as the parent involved doesn't receive any sense of accomplishment, Louise is happy to learn...

While we are forced to whisper our words of encouragement so that she does not hear, I am terribly proud of my new lover of learning.

Daddy, watch me!

We have embarked upon my favorite holiday - the day each year that we celebrate kicking our proverbial parents out the door and declare our Independence.
As is our tradition, the weekend is spent at Gramma Gramma's house (Papa Boo lives here too). The upside of such a trip is two trips to the pool each day; the down side is that I end up sleeping in an oversized closet.
Today, when Mommy, Gramma, Emily and Louise disappeared on an errand, Daddy took me and Garrett to Dollar Tree and let us run the store at our leisure: $12.63 donated to the Chinese economy.
Tonight, we went to the beach, and after a nervous introduction, jumped and played and did as much as Daddy would let me before pulling me out of the water. It got a bit tight sometimes, but I was always in control. You've got to know your limit. Daddy said we can come to the beach again 'next time', but sometimes I think he and I have a different opinion as to what 'next time' exactly means.

February 1, 2008

My 32nd birthday. I had hoped to have all children born at 30, but since Garrett Hao Ge Bowling is already 2+, I am still on track.

Last night Alan and I made the big leap and bought our plane tickets. It was a long process to find just the right fit. The prices were all similar, but we had to find longer layovers, nicer layover cities, had to leave Hong Kong late enough, arrive in Atlanta early enough... as it is, we are leaving February 21st at 9:52am on Continental- don't know that I've ever flown Continental, being more of a Delta girl myself. The longest flight I've been on was when I went to Russia 10 years ago, so this 16+hour business from Newark to Hong Kong is going to be difficult. Despite the fact that the "mom of 3 kids at home"side of me will be thrilled at the quiet, the ability to read, watch movies, not smell diapers... that novelty will wear off about 4 hours in, and that's only 1/3 of the way.

Anyway, we're supposed to be home on Wednesday, March 5. It's daunting. It's still not exactly real.

My 1st Snowman

We woke today to a bit of snow on the ground. I've never seen anything like it. After running around with our tongues out trying to catch flakes, then a quick trip back inside to have some hot cocoa, daddy, emily and i went out to build this beautiful snowman. I even donated my hat to him. I named him 'Snowy'. May he be forever with us...