I really wonder what zips through Henry's mind all night long. What makes him bolt out of bed upon waking up and declare that he needs his boots? Once he made it downstairs he dragged them out immediately, ignoring the usual milk and breakfast. Hunger can wait. Boots cannot.



One theory I have heard is that aside from the needing to let their bodies grow and recover, toddlers need lots of sleep to develop their brains. Adults have their routines and experiences programmed deeply in. For example, we do not even think about how to handle our morning commute. Toddlers are still building those grooves and need a long night of dreams to relive the day and parse through the experiences and memories. They're filling up their changing brains.

I have no clue how accurate that is, but it doesn't sound too bananas. And it doesn't sound like there is any harm in believing it.

I have noticed that like my 5 cd changer, I can occasionally program his dreams to a degree. On Friday nights I often tell Henry upon bedtime that tomorrow morning he'll see Maggie at Saturdays with Daddy, so he needs to get a good night of sleep. It's not odd to hear him stirring to life on the monitor at 8am uttering, "Maggie. Maggie."

This is all very charming, but where the boots come from is beyond me. I know that a smiling Henry is never more than 1 or 2 random sentences away from graders, excavators, or trains. The guy loves the construction site more than anything else, so my money is that he anticipates hitting the job site as soon as he wakes. I'll try to remember this zeal in 15 years when he's sleeping till noon at every opportunity.

"Do again. Throw up in air."

Henry's sentences are getting longer, more specific, and even more demanding. Thankfully the game of chucking the toddler into the sky is easier on my back than running around with monkeybear. The problem with the new game as you can see is that Henry loves kicking his legs at the height of his toss. I have to navigate the scissors as they tumble towards my face. So far I've been nimble enough.

...

It's getting chillier each day, but the snow on the mountains is unable to accumulate thanks to the rainy days. With a little luck we'll get the bike trailer out in the next week or two for some final trips. It's just been hard to dodge the rain showers here and there.

Henry's costume is largely ready; a tribute to his first love these days -- construction worker. We already have the carhartts, plastic hammer, fake mustache makeup, and boots. After buying a yellow helmet, we only need to perform some modifications on my freebie hunting vest to create a vest for our excavator driver. As long as the weather holds up, we have a chance at actually walking around in a visible costume, rather than one under 2 layers of clothing.

Our brief snowfall came and went in a blink and the regular Alaskan fall of crisp mornings and yellowing leaves is back in full force. Almost all of the leaves are now on the ground and the snow on the mountains is leaking down a bit more every few days. The days have been more dry than wet so we've found ourselves at the playground a fair amount. Henry's windbreaker has been mothballed and he now hears "Go get your barn jacket" when it's time to head out.

When people say toddlers have a challenged attention span, they clearly have not made caramel apples. Henry tuned out the world and intensely unwrapped each piece of candy before dropping them into the saucepan. He wasn't as interested in the caramel dipping process, which was fine by the two safety minded parents. As an even better bonus, his love of apples has renewed. He gobbles up granny smiths as quickly as I can slice them up.



Last week we checked out the middle school cross country championships at Kincaid park to watch Hailey give it her best. The pack of 8th grade girls huddled up at the starting line, high-fived each other, rubbed their hands up and down their chilly arms, and took off at the sound of the gun. I placed Henry on my shoulders and while be did enjoy it for a few moments, he quickly became wiggly. He usually runs his fingers through my hair and checks for ticks, but this time he sprinted directly for my glasses. Fair enough, down you go.



Hailey finished with a strong kick and a very red face. Volleyball practice is calling her name next week, and Henry can't wait to get the sled out for October's inevitable snow.

While the people in charge of measuring things up here assert that there has not been a measurable snowfall yet, Henry knows they are bald faced liars. I pedaled off to work at 6:30 am in the 33 degree sleet wondering if we would make that little turn towards snow. I assumed not given that the temperatures would only rise from that moment on.



I was very wrong. My ride to work was in the sleet, but soon after settling into my cubicle I noticed the snow beginning outside. Becky followed quickly with a text and a snapshot of the snow accumulating on our garage. Henry was pumped and soon had his barn jacket on for a short survey mission (his hat and gloves were buried away).

It would all melt by the afternoon, but the message was clear -- party is over. It's Alaska and even if the leaves are still tenuously hanging on those limbs, it will snow if it feels like it. It wouldn't be the first winter that found our leaves accumulating on a 4 inch base of snow.



MonkeyBear lives!

Randy and I headed up the Yentna river in hopes of harvesting a moose while Becky and Henry remained in Anchorage. All enjoyed the beautiful blue skies and break in the rain across Southcentral Alaska. Our hunt had moderate bugs, beautiful weather, a wolf, but sadly no moose. We knew that an un-scouted 36 hour hunt does not have a phenomenal success rate, but we also know that there are plenty of moose in that region. It was not to be, but a few nights under the stars are never a bad idea.



Becky, Henry, and Lesley headed to Kincaid Park, one of the larger parks in Anchorage. Aside from a fun walk on a beautiful day, they found the legal bull I had been hoping to encounter.

Thanks to some perfect timing and Alaska Airlines miles, Becky headed off for 4 days in San Jose with her high school friend Robin. Henry and I received plenty of texts and a few calls that proved they were having an excellent time. Aside from some traffic annoyances, they enjoyed Alcatraz, San Francisco, and all the sunshine in between.



Henry and I did out best to get outside when the rain abated, enjoyed Saturdays with Daddy as always, and assembled elaborate train configurations over and over again. We survived just fine without Mommy, but it was certainly great to pick her up at the airport on Sunday.



Full set of pictures here.

"Do again." That is the phrase that pays around here.

If we wrestle a bit, generate some giggles, read a good book, play MonkeyBear, or just run around the room in a certain way that brings smiles, Henry will ask to do it immediately again.

It can run a little thin at times, but the truth is that it only happens when we stumble onto moments of complete joy. I visualize it as a record needle sticking in a groove, slowly etching a memory. It may be an opportunity to chuckle and hopefully recreate a fun moment Henry will store deep into his long term memory, but at the very least it brings laughs.

...

Becky held Henry as I measured, drilled, and mounted his new coat rack. Once the job was finished I smiled and instructed, "Go get your drill!" Becky followed, "Daddy needs your help!"

He enjoyed moving the stud finder all over the wall, but using his drill was beyond exciting. As the days tick by since helping Daddy, we witness the memory growing and burrowing. At random moments and upon waking from naps we hear, "Help Daddy drill."