Magrilless

Maggie is becoming more independent, wanting to do things on her terms. This is a good thing. She’s going to be a strong woman, not afraid to speak her mind, able to help herself and solve her own problems, refuse to take guff from anyone. And her parents will come up with new tricks to make her do the things that actually need to be done. Now to figure out which battles are really worth fighting. . . 

In other news, Maggie has become a cat. Maybe it’s because we’re not cat people, but it really does seem like most of the day is spent pretending she’s a cat. She crawls around, meows, asks for cat treats, keeps exclaiming “look what the baby kitty cat did!”, and gives licky cat kisses. This morning I was absolutely relieved when she refused to come to breakfast because she was talking (in English!) to her imaginary friend robot instead of just mewing on the ground. Let’s hope this phase doesn’t last long!

So we tell you a lot about the hikes that are awesome and Maggie summits and there’s music in the air and everyone goes home happy and proud and eating gummy worms. Then there’s the other sort of hike. The kind that begins 5 miles outside of Durango with a little voice from the backseat: “Daddy, Mommy forgot to buckle me in.” And sure enough, we have to pull the car over for Bill to jump out and actually put her in her carseat since Mom was too distracted or tired or something to do it when we actually left the house. Then we get to our destination and we start down the trail but turn around to go to the outhouse. Then turn around again to get the hats and mittens out of the car. Then go 5 minutes before a little voice complains about being chilly-willy and wanting water and needing a snack. So we pick out a good rock for a pick-me-up and try again but it’s no different so the little one goes up on Daddy’s shoulders so we can hoof it back to the lake for a real picnic and rock throwing. Except it’s a sandy beach with no rocks to skip and Maggie pees just standing and looking at the water, so off come the tights and the socks and the shoes with the hats and the mittens and the picnic involves neighbor-picked apples with worms or dropped apples in the sand and Eliza is shivering because she went into the lake after an apple bit and we decide it’s beautiful here in the fall and the sand feels nice on bare toes and that a couple of candy corns in the car with a movie sound like a good idea.