6:15 a.m.: I wake up to a gorgeous morning feeling fully rested. I open my curtains and see hot air balloons floating in the distance.
6:20 a.m.: I realize that — because it is the epitome of irony — the day that I wake up at 6:15 is the day my kids won't wake up at 6:30, which they have been doing for weeks like clockwork, no matter how tired I believe they ought to be.
6:21 a.m.: I make myself some coffee. And a muffin. And yogurt. And hash browns.
6:40 a.m.: I sit out on the patio to enjoy the peaceful summer-like morning.
7:01 a.m.: I come back upstairs to find JJ laying half-asleep in my bed. I turn on some cartoons and take a shower.
7:30 a.m.: Malachi wakes up and I get him dressed. JJ — despite this happening at least twice a day every day — resists getting dressed until I lose my temper and do it anyway.
8:50 a.m.: Boys are dressed, fed and in the car.
8:55 a.m.: I finally find my keys and we are on the road.
9:40 a.m.: Arrive at the hospital for 9:30 a.m. VitalStim appointment.
10:15 a.m.: Actually begin VitalStim appointment. In the intervening time, JJ has decided he is a "dark pink monkey-dog named Sozo," and will now only bear crawl, or climb on me. (As monkey-dogs are wont. Obviously.) Malachi is a "colored" (by which he means multi-colored and not in the way my grandmother meant it) dog named "Andrea." They both bark and pant periodically.
10:45 a.m.: Finish appointment and Malachi joyously declares that: "WE CAN GO TO OMSI NOW!" (This is something he'd been waiting to do since yesterday when he suddenly decided that instead of going to preschool, we should all really just go to the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry. He was then was DEVASTATED and frankly shocked when I didn't agree to any of his eleventy-billion declarations that we do that.)
11:10 a.m.: Pick up cheap, plentiful and delicious Indian food at a downtown cart while dropping off a large check to an ABM practitioner for last month's sessions.
11:26 a.m.: ARRIVE AT OMSI, OMG.
11:27 a.m.: Head straight to this scale, which displays weights according to the gravity of 11 different celestial bodies. Malachi is so excited, he grabs on the support bar and is basically standing all by himself. He could drop at any moment, so I still have to keep my hand right next to him, but I'm stoked. Very difficult to take a picture, so I took this crappy video instead. It still counts as proof.
Standing, sort of. from Shasta Kearns Moore on Vimeo.
11:47 p.m.: I'm starving and have to peel Malachi away from this scale and JJ away from the nearby trampoline to go eat our Indian food.
12:05 p.m.: JJ continues to act like a dog — excuse me, a monkey-dog — including attempting to drink water out of a cup on the ground with no hands, crawling around on the floor and frog jumping on the trampoline.
JJ as a monkey-dog. from Shasta Kearns Moore on Vimeo.
12:06 p.m.: Back to the beloved scale.
1:13 p.m.: Up on the top floor, we've had a wonderful time in the Science Playground — deserted since everyone is downstairs at the Tony Hawk skateboard exhibit (of which The Scale is, to everyone else, a tiny and rather uninteresting part). We've played in the water until we were soaked, then played in the white sand until we were sparkly. I give the first warning that we are leaving at 1:30 p.m.
1:30 p.m.: I tell the boys that it's time to go and there is remarkably little resistance. Could it be that they are finally growing up?
1:45 p.m.: Back on the road. This time to Embassy Suites in nearby Beaverton for our 2:30 p.m. lesson with traveling ABM practitioner Andrea Bowers.
2:40 p.m.: She does awesome stuff like this:
2:41 p.m.: J/k. Actually that was yesterday. Today, JJ and I were sharks under the table. Malachi was a fisherman on the boat. The game was that Malachi would put one of his hands or one of his feet off the table and JJ and I would "snack-snack-snack" on them. This was a lot of fun and taught Malachi a bit about how far he could put his hands and feet off the table without jeopardizing his balance and also how to get back onto the table when he wanted to "be safe."
3:05 p.m.: Packed up and on the road again.
3:34 p.m.: TRAFFIC IS TERRIBLE.
4:09 p.m.: Celebrate finally arriving to our town with a tasty frozen yogurt parfait with soon-to-expire $1 off coupon. Malachi chews and swallows three whole gummy bears without even gagging — a remarkable accomplishment for him. JJ announces he's all done with the treat before it is all gone — a remarkable accomplishment for him.
4:36 p.m.: We go to Wilco to look at vegetable starts and baby chicks.
4:42 p.m.: JJ announces that he needs to potty. The bathroom is too small to go in with the cart, where Malachi has to stay, so I ask JJ if he can do it himself. He does.
4:50 p.m.: After what seems like an eternity, during which I check on JJ frequently and Malachi sits and reads aloud the notices on the corkboard, JJ finally announces he's done. I am super impressed that he completed this task almost completely by himself.
5:18 p.m.: A fight breaks out when JJ continues to open the refrigerator door next to the cashier after I've asked him to stop. JJ digs in and so do I. Malachi is jeering at us both. I take away their "extra" screen time ticket as punishment and now everyone is very sad.
5:38 p.m.: Arrive home at last. We read books together until we cheer up. JJ picks me dandelions to apologize "and to get screen time." (He doesn't.)
7:07 p.m.: We all sit down to eat delicious dinner cooked by my mother-in-law, with whom we live.
7:44 p.m.: Dinner and dessert out of the way, it's time to watch the Portland Trailblazers in the NBA playoffs. I know nothing about sports and care even less, but it's clear that I have at least one little dyed-in-the-wool sports fan.
Go Blazers! from Shasta Kearns Moore on Vimeo.
8:15 p.m.: Come upstairs to find this picturesque scene replacing the last time I looked out my bedroom window 14 hours earlier.
8:16 p.m.: Decide to write this blog post.
9:44 p.m.: Finish it.
10:02 p.m.: Publish it.