Sh..shsh.ssshshhhark!

Lily in front of the snow monkey habitat. She found them delightful.

No less than three times during the day, we've noted something awesome about the kids and commented that it would be blog-worthy, only to then completely forget what the thing was later on. This is the fundamental flaw in blogging: I'm an idiot and I should write stuff down for later. I'm not sure that's a blogging flaw, rather than just a statement on my shortcomings as a person. Either way, it doesnt' make for any better reading here.

Today we met with the Moores at the zoo and looked at the animals. I say this seriously, because I'm quite proud that the kids actually did recognize and seem to appreciate the fact that animals were on the other side of the glass. As a plus, Abby was not prowled upon by any bloodlusting cats. Lily was particularly fond of both the shark and getting to respond, "Shaaaaark!" whenever it swam into view. I, too, love that shark tank...those things get quite close and the teeth are infinitely terrorizing. I still can't understand how they have all those other fish in the same tank; one has to wonder if they're not just bucking for a promotion to the dolphin tank, the veritable "stoner hangout pad" of the zoo. The dolphins were playing hacky sack, for god's sake. But their tank is always a solo gig, and that's always surprising, since you'd think the dolphin's would be the coolest about not bogarting their digs. The sharks, on the other hand, looked like they were about to snap.

Sometime during our visit, we passed a significant milestone when Abby stated, "Hi Lily." This marks the first time either of our kids has recognized the name Lily in any cognitive, vocal manner. I've gotten them to say it, but only via repetition. What a fun new stage! Next up will be statements like "More milk, Lily" and "Get the hell out of my room, Lily!"

Another fun Abby moment that serves as a sort of antidote the one above came later. I was reading a picture book with Abs, and we were on a page of flowers. Here's an excerpt:

Me: "Tulip"
Abs: "Tooowip"

M: "Daisy"
A: "Maaizzee"

M: "Rose"
A: "Wose"

M: "Lily"
A: "Abby!"

She was so excited about her answer, because somehow a connection was made in her mind between the flower, the name, the word, and herself. It was cute.

Later on the girls put blankets on their heads and wandered around bonking into things, which was really cute and a lot like the scene from "ET".

Day three hundred and twenty.

Here they are in front of the shark tank.

Abby pointing out one of the more terrified denizens of the shark tank.

Abs writing on the girls' new art easel. Thanks, Reicherts!

2010, I'm just going to stay in the house if that's alright with you.

Lily...our little climber

2010. It feels so different...it's like living in the future.

Jen went out tonight at 8pm to meet some people from school, which is unfortunate because she broke the streak of the Gels family not leaving the house for the entirety of the new year. Up until her departure, we'd spent the whole year in the house. The whole year!

We considered going sledding today, but it was just wicked cold. Seeing that you're flirting with disaster sledding with 22 month olds anyway, we thought we'd pass on that, which is depressingly unadventurous of us. Instead we played with toys, sang some songs, danced a lot. I enjoyed listening to the Current's top 89 countdown again. I can't say I was surprised that "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magentic Zeroes was number one, but that doesn't mean I won't be disappointed in the twin cities for voting it so. C'mon, people...it's just not that good of a song. And Pete Yorn/Scarlett Johanson making the list (up at 59, I might add) is rather unforgivable. Other than that, not a bad list, for the most part.

Also with the new year comes the end of my tenure with Powderhorn365, which is both sad and ultimately relieving. Like the relief that will come at the end of this blog (which will be so sweet), it is nice to know that I won't have to try and spend part of every Saturday prowling for unwitting citizens to photograph. On the other hand, I will sorely miss having a valid excuse to approach strangers, meet them, shoot them, and spend some time getting to know them. It's been a very enriching experience in every way; even the frustrating days when I was short on inspiration and irritable at the chore of drumming something up, those were fine learning experiences. They taught me how annoying it is to be irritable and creative at the same time, so I should just cheer up already before going out shooting.

I think tomorrow we're going to leave the house. The girls are starting to look like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Even I take the hint when Lily puts on her jacket and mittens and hat and says, "Car?" So we're thinking the zoo might be a good destination. It's warm, there are animals, and it already smells like poop, so we'll blend right in.

Day three hundred and nineteen.

Abbitigail

Liliathon

Carson Daly, our nation turns its lonely eyes to you.

Happy New Year! Welcome, 2010! A brand new year of possibilities. Who knows what craziness shall befall the Powderhorn Gelseses?

My resolution for this year: to start writing better blog posts.

Starting tomorrow.



Day three hundred and eighteen.

The straight poop on kids and planes.

We got a visit today from Grandma Marj and Jen's Aunt Nancy from Seattle. Yay! Too bad Abby got something in her contact lens.

Here are a few thing about last night's plane ride:

A plane ride with toddlers is shitty. At the very best, in the most opportune and spectacular circumstances, it can only be crappy. At best. You start at shitty, and go downhill from there. The first half of last night's flight, girls A and B were in pretty high spirits and it was all mostly okay. But even then, as we sat there and did whatever while the girls fidgeted and played with their toys, I couldn't help but constantly dwell on the fact that I'd rather be pretty much anywhere else with my kids than vacuum-packed into a 3 square foot area 38,000 feet over Tennessee. There is no real joy in air travel with kids....you can only hope to survive it, and count your lucky stars that your kids don't dump a glass of cranberry juice on the people in front of you (that didn't happen to us, I'm just sayin').

Around the midway point, things started to unravel. Lily showed crystal clear signs that she was exhausted, but refused at every step to just lay her head on our shoulders and sleep. She chose, instead, to thrash around in a well thought out plan to tell the world her level of discomfort. Abby wasn't quite so bad at first, but she had a major meltdown just prior to descent. After a good five minutes of screeching, I bounced her on my arm up and down the aisle, and finally she rammed her head into my neck and fell graciously asleep.

Lily spent the last third of the flight kicking the seat ahead of her (little tip: don't put your seat back when you sit in front of lap children. I know it's your right as a passenger and all, but really, it does no one any favors, including yourself), she yelled at the window, she wiggled and writhed, and was alternately furious and giddy at the whole state of affairs.

When the beastly 737 finally touched down at 1130, we were ready to be done. I hate that last part of the trip, though, when you only want to collapse into bed, but there's the unpacking of necessities and milk and jammies and all those mechanics of life that need tending to. It is infinitely tiring, this living business.

One cool part of the flight: Lily became slightly interested in the seat reclining button on the armrest before we even left the gate. She barely gave it much of a passing glance, really. From then on, though, whenever there was a chime over the speakers, she would stop what she was doing, turn to the armrest, and push the button. How freaking strange is that!? It made no sense; I still can't figure out what logic there is behind it. There must have been a dozen chimes that made her turn and push the button. Random and cute.

In one of my finer moments, I was standing for a bit during the flight, stretching my legs and leaning my head on the overhead bin. I was half asleep, glassy and groggy. I wasn't really paying attention to anything, enjoying my zoning out, when I realized that I was essentially staring at the woman one row behind us who was breastfeeding her baby. Who's the jerk? Me.

Day three hundred and seventeen.

Chris, this toy is awesome and cool and our kids seriously love it. They've been fighting over it. And to be honest, I rather enjoy it as well...it's like a Zen rock garden, very soothing to just sit and twirl. So, thanks!

Also, I liked your Bobcat embryo joke, and I'm not just saying that because you're giving us sausage tomorrow.

Lucky us, we didn't even BRING Pringles.

Tracey and Lucy (doing jazz hands?? A-cha cha!)

Tonight, we wing our way back northward to the much-snowed-upon land of Minnesota, so I'm doing a mid-day pre-departure bloggity entry.

Papa, Tracey and Mark, in a fit of extreme graciousness, stuck home today to watch our girls while Jen and I had some alone time. We spent our time prowling the mean streets of Sanibel, eager for a cup of coffee (we found one), then went to the "Ding" Darling Wildlife Preserve, which is the best name for a preserve EVER. It was a nice if not markedly uneventful stroll through the island estuary. We had a good time, and talked like adults for a bit. We saw a very lovely blue heron. And a big spider. Nothing larger than that, save some other tourists.

Then lunch, and now I feel like a nap. I might need my energy later, so a nap might be something I acquiesce to. Tonight we'll be back home to find out if we've been ticketed for not shovelling our walk, for not shovelling out our trash can, or for our car sticking out into the alley. Or the cat might be dead. Despite all this, I'm excited to be back in the cold and the snow. How silly is that?

Day three hundred and sixteen.

ps. to Lori's comment from a couple days ago: whatever! You guys are going to be down here in a few weeks, so I hardly feel bad for you. Jen and I scoped out Captiva, including where you guys are staying, and I am definitely the one who's bitter. It's a very cool spot.

A red mangrove (I think it's red) sprouting out of the estuary.

Jen reading the Great Ding Darling Map of Useless Information

First rule of Florida nature: Never feed Pringles to an alligator while trapped in the belly of an even larger alligator. This will cost you $502 ($500 fine, plus they confiscate your Pringles)

My kid = meow mix

Enthusiastic credit to my niece Maya for this photo.

Today's family activity: Florida Wildlife Zoo Place! (not the real name...I actually forgot the real name of the place) A couple steps above your normal roadside attraction, they had a hodgepodge of alligators and crocodiles (or Abbygators and Crocolilies), with a variety of snakes and panthers and other wildlife to boot. It was a fun little trip. Untrue to my form, I won't bore you with all the details, save one.

Our group had just passed the panther pen, where we all had looked in on the large cats napping in various positions of leisure. Abby and I were bringing up the rear, and when we came by the pen, a hellish cat creature appeared out of nowhere, utterly silent, and started pacing the enclosure, eyes steely, fixed, unblinking on my blonde hors d'oeuvre of a daughter. There was no doubt that this animal was stalking my kid...it might as well have had a bib around its neck and a spork in its paw. It was like seeikng an old person in front of an Old Country Buffet at 4 pm. Scary hungry.

In hilarious and very chilling juxtaposition, Abby continued toddling around the walk, picking up dead leaves and babbling contentedly to herself while this instrument of certain death paced just a few feet from her. It was truly kind of unsettling and really, really funny at the same time. Odd combo. As far as I know, Abby never even saw the panther.

Sorry I didn't get a photo, my camera was ungettable at the time; it would have been a fantastic shot.

Day three hundred and fifteen.

What's a roadside wildlife attraction without some Embryos of Bobcat? I think I've got the name of my rock band.

Jen, Grace, Mark, Tracey, Lucy, and Steve. Not pictured: our kids, who we'd already tossed into the pen for "croc petting time".

Papa watching the kids.

Abby stole Mommy's hat. Forgivable, given the cuteness factor.

Our girls have met the ocean.

Today, we tackled the ocean, quite literally. After dipping Abby in the breaking waves, she started running towards the water and quite literally tried to throw herself into the surf. She seemed very taken with the sea, despite the cold and despite the fact that a loud sneeze will startle her to tears. This largest and most impressive of Earth's wonders somehow made her want to run into it with open arms. Good monkey. Maybe we have a surfer girl on our hands. Jen and I both had that thought as we looked at her, all blonde hair and salty face.

I honestly had a hard time keeping her safe in the water, because I would put her down standing in the shallow surf, and she would sprint out into the breaking waves, and her tiny little chicken legs are just not strong enough to resist the push and pull of the sea. She lost her balance more than a few times, but I managed to catch her at every chance.

Lily did okay in the water, but was a little more recalcitrant to the Atlantic's briny call. On the whole, the trip went smoothly with no major meltdowns or too much sand in the crotch areas (although there was some chaffing. I'm talking about the girls here).

Day three hundred and fourteen.

Lily finding something of vast importance.

Jen and Lily.

There she goes! Notice I've positioned myself strategically between her and 41 million square miles of saltwater.