sethrak: (Margaritaville)
[personal profile] sethrak
Added bonus sleep deprivation points due to Mark audibly not going to sleep until nearly 11 pm last night, and thus making it necessary for me to stay up and keep him reasonably in line and out of the downstairs bathroom. (Why he keeps bypassing the upstairs bathroom, which is RIGHT ACROSS THE HALL from his bedroom, I do not at all grok.)

So. Recap of weekend.

Sunday had strong wind gusts and my stomach was still a trifle fragile. So instead of the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, we went on a little road trip to the Florissant Fossil Beds to enjoy the area and obtain a free year pass for military families to National Parks, Monuments, etc. Nice easy drive, just enough walking to give a sickly domestic goddess and her offspring some exercise, but not enough to overtire me or them.

Or so I thought.

Mark started freaking out as soon as we got out of the car at the monument. No idea why. We ended up just walking the shortest of the trail loops, the one that winds around giant petrified redwood stumps, most of which are semi-protected by permanent metal awnings and semi-held-together by large metal bands. Sigh.

Jack, on the other hand, was positively angelic during the walk, despite having some lingering diaper rash from his recent bouts of nocturnal tummy troubles.

Tom got our pass, and we loaded back in the car for some exploratory driving.

Based on the tv ads, I was expecting Cripple Creek to be a decent sized tourist town, around the size of Woodland Park, with several casinos around the size of the Ho Chunk Casino in downtown Milwaukee or the one in Council Bluffs Iowa where we went for a seafood buffet the evening after Tom and I were married. Not as big as Aspen or other major skiing destinations, but certainly not as small as Piedmont MO.

Ha!

It is TINY. The main drag is very very well-maintained and has plenty of historic buildings which house little restaurants and tourist shops and such, but it is a very very tiny main drag indeed, and the town around it is tiny as well. We barely noticed the casinos.

We did not bother getting out of the car. Mark was still in freakout mode, and it simply wasn't tempting enough a walk.

We continued on the scenic mining camp loop, through the adjacent small towns that once were mining camps. Quite a few of the mines are still active; just mechanized. The air reeks. Most of the houses in the area, both modern and historic, were well away from the active mines. The road had some really nice views in those areas, but overall, not on our list of potential places to get a post-Air Force house.

***

Both boys have been in active "velociraptor testing the fences" mode lately. We've caught both boys in what appeared to be active collusion to literally test the fences, having dragged their wooden rocking horse off the porch and into a corner of the yard not viewable from any of the windows. They both were grabbing onto the rim of the fence, one foot apiece on a cross-beam of the fence, one foot dangling and trying to decide if it wanted to rest on the horse or rise to the cross-beam. :;face-palm::

Jack on several occasions has been caught on one of the corner fence posts, perched like a tiny gargoyle, feet tight under him, knees drawn up, and hands gripping the fence rim as he debated what to do next. x_x He's also taken to throwing stuff over the fence - like his and Mark's beloved straw cups. Since neither of them are cooperating with drinking from regular cups yet, this is problematic.

Mark figured out how to remove the little rubbery plastic bits that hooked onto the adhesive mounts of the fridge and freezer locks. x_x We finally found them in the freezer under a bag of chicken nuggets.

I suggested to Tom we use some of our spare cabinet locks, the kind that hook over knob handles or through bar handles, over the existing adhesive mounts, and if they wouldn't fit, drill small holes through the mounts for the loops to feed into.

He face-palmed and told me he'd thrown the extra locks out a couple weeks back when he was cleaning out the garage, because he assumed we didn't need them and they were just taking up space.

At least he hasn't taken to holding stuff over bonfires and saying "Honey, we don't need this, right?" as he throws it in, like his dad.

So I bought a new set of locks, along with some 3M adhesive hooks in case the locks didn't fit and the drilling holes plan fell through.

Tom drilled the holes, and at least as of this morning, Mark can't circumvent them. \o/

Here's hoping he doesn't turn into a tiny Tony Stark or Bruce Banner and find a way to dissolve the extremely strong adhesive... ^_^;;;;;

Mark has also been caught on numerous occasions standing on the kitchen counters and attempting to bat at Tom's collection of shotglasses from around the world, displayed on the top of the upper cabinets. We're going to get some bubble wrap and put them into storage.

Jack's been trying to use the wooden rustic-style potato bin as a climbing tool to get onto the kitchen island. He's also been using the folding chair and the riding dumptruck as climbing tools for the backyard fence. We're running out of places to relocate things.

Zodlings! ::amused fist shake::

***

I should and eventually will do some quick reviews of my recent booksquee-ing. Not today, though. I'm close to needing an extra Dr. Pepper, and the boys are demanding to be let out into the yard. I can't let them out there unsupervised anymore, given their joint fascination with fence-climbing.

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July 2014

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