Seven Years at the Fair

Here is the growing list of traditional Eryn at the Fair photos:


























































































































Shown above with Eryn is her new St. Paul Police Department K-9 officer, whom she named Fire. She bought one two years ago, but cannot find him. I suspect he's in the net over her bed with 45 other small stuffed animals.


Eryn and I rode a go-kart this year ($10!)...















She rode Kidway rides, courtesy of Uncle Kyle...
















































...went down the Giant Slide ALL BY HERSELF for the first time. Brief hesitation at the top the first time; none at all the second time.





















Scooter and Eryn ended the Fair experience on the River Raft Ride. They DID get wet.

Surgery Cost

I just called HealthEast to find out why I have an enormous bill for the surgery I had on April 28. I figured it couldn't be correct. Then "L" in the billing department told me the total cost for the surgery at Woodwinds was $26,003.59. I couldn't help myself and responded with "WOW!" Then I said, "Well, this is what Obama is talking about, isn't it." L said "No." I said I thought it was. She countered with "No, actually, he's talking about things that happen over and over again." Um, no. Right-wing talking point. Not at ALL what he's talking about. I was about to explain it to her, thought better of it, and said "Never mind. Could you please send me an itemized bill? The one HealthEast sent me just has a lump sum." L said she could do that.

Holy crap. The total cost of having Eryn (by emergency c-section, after induction and 14 hours of labor, followed by five nights in the hospital, was about $13,000, six years ago. They had to take care of Eryn and the anesthesiologist had to tap my spine for an epi two different times (once right after induction and once for a block to do the surgery). My surgeon was there with us for 12 hours. For this surgery, I was in hospital for two nights; I was under anesthesia for three hours. And, we've already paid the non-covered portions for the surgeon and the anesthesiologist. $26K?! WTF?

Scooter says it was the harpist.

SIX!

Thoroughly enjoying her first sleepover experience:

R.I.P. Cleo

Younger, healthier, and happy in the sunshine under newborn Eryn's bassinet:
















And in the porch window:





















This afternoon:














Two days ago:

Decorating, See My Vest, Installing the Angel

We started the Christmas tree last night. Eryn decided shirts were optional.





















Part of the time, Eryn was wearing the new Hello Kitty vest Grandma sent her. It's a huge hit - she wore it to school today, too, though I insisted it have long sleeves under it.















Bailey's introduction to a (fake) Christmas tree. Cleo is an old hat: she's bored. Or annoyed with Bailey. They're equally possible.















This evening, the angel topped the tree. This time, Eryn decided pants were optional, so the picture is taken from a careful angle.

Candy Trouble

All of those medical/financial/educational forms we all fill out have that sometimes troublesome section where we are to check a box in front of our race (though usually told we may select "choose not to say,") and then list

African-American, Asian, Caucasian/White, American Indian, Other

as our choices. Some of them go a bit farther and include

Samoan, Native Hawaiian, Korean, Asian Indian, Korean, Vietnamese.

I was dumping the bags of Halloween candy Scooter and Eryn bought last week, and quickly saw that it was not going to fit into the one big bowl we typically use. (I bought a black cauldron a few years ago, but I don't know where it is.) I found a second bowl and decided for some maniacal reason to put chocolate-y things in one bowl and "Other" in the - well, other bowl. It was then that I spotted the problem.



















First: Tootsie Rolls. Some people will immediately proclaim that they belong with the chocolate. But they don't really taste like chocolate! They taste like Tootsie Roll chocolate. When in the grips of a Chocolate Fit, a Tootsie Roll (or indeed a handful of Tootsie Rolls) might take the edge off it, but certainly does not satisfy it. So where do they go - Chocolate or Other? And don't even get me started on the chocolate-flavored Tootsie Pops.

If you look closely at the Tootsie Roll package, it lists cocoa among its ingredients. Into the Chocolate bowl they went. The Tootsie Pops I decided belonged with their cherry, orange and root beer cousins in Other.

Now I wonder if I'm a bigot.

Water Jets and Grizzlies

We hadn't been to the "New Zoo" since before the addition of the grizzlies (and sea otters, and wild boar), so I was pleasantly surprised when Eryn and I got there on Labor Day a few hours after Scooter and I put Sandy down - and found a beautifully designed new exhibit. Here is Eryn, clearly not enjoying herself at all, in the "lava tube" inside of which is the grizzly enclosure.































The new water jet/Russian animal sculpture area just before the entrance to the Russian Coast exhibits is the reason she is soaked to the skin:
















































The grizzlies:














When the bears come up to the glass (and they do it often), this is how close you are to the (HUGE) animals - no tricky camera zooming:















Pretty amazing exhibit. Reminder to Self: take Ben up on going Behind The Scenes to take pictures for Rony's room. That has got to be cool.

I Love The Smell of Toast in the Morning (But I'm Confused)

Last night I accidentally set my alarm for 7:55 instead of 6:55, so when I checked the time at 7:47, I hopped out of bed (well, limped) and went straight to wake Eryn, who grumbled at me but understood time was of the essence. We got her to school just as Morning Meeting was beginning, so mission accomplished for her second day of Kindergarten. I was obviously not ready for work, but luckily had no clients until 11:00 (which turned out to be a no-show anyway, but that's a different matter), so I could go home and get myself ready with no problem. Here comes the weird part: when I got out of the car at home around 8:45, the air smelled strongly of toast. It's breakfast time, yeah, but how does one make a neighborhood smell like toast? I had visions of thousands of RAGBRAI breakfast seekers, but to my knowledge, thousands of bicyclists are not descending upon my neighborhood. This evening, will the neighborhood smell of spaghetti?

R.I.P. Sandra Dee

1995-2008.

Scooter already explained.

Here's my other favorite picture of her:



















The stream of water from the squirt bottle never stood a chance.

Six Years at The Fair

My favorite picture from the Fair:













It's my favorite because it's sweet and it will be the last photo of Eryn doing this. Eryn loves the Little Farm Hands area, where kids can have "real farm" experience: they feed animals, pick apples, plant seeds, and wear aprons and John Deere antler visors, just like real farmers. Eryn is only five, but she's almost too tall to ride the pedal-powered tractor. She'll be sad next year.