It's still in the teens most mornings, but our daytime highs end up around 40, so the melt is on. The local lakes are not terribly safe for skating anymore, so we've been heading to UAA to lace up the skates each Friday evening. It's ended up being mainly a Daddy and Henry event, though Mom did come out to take some pictures last week and noticed just how much better Henry is.

He can stand very well in his skates and tic-tac right ahead without falling, which is far beyond the ankle rolling he dabbled in 3 months ago. Even though he fusses greatly when I let go of his hands, the fact remains that he is able to stand just fine without help. Mentally, he needs to embrace the fact that he does skate on his own.

When people ask how much we skate, I honestly reply, "We do about 1-2 laps around the rink. It takes 35 minutes."

Even though his skills are increasing, I believe his concentration on the movement is taxing. So we stop to play in the penalty box, then spend some time in the corner staring at the zamboni through the glass, take another break on the player's benches, and then finish off at the goal with our eyes fixated on the scoreboard up above.  Oh, do we love the scoreboard.

The only problem with skating these days is how comfortable Henry is with his skates on carpeting. I used to be able to get his skates on and then take my time lacing up my own while he held himself up on my leg. That has gone the way of the dodo. He's off runnings once those skates get tied off. The new plan I have been using is taking off his boots, lacing up my skates, and then placing his skates on. It's tough to fight his need to explore, particularly when the scoreboard is a mere 20 feet away.






The most exciting news in our home is that Henry will have a new baby sister this August! Everyone is healthy and doing well and Henry seems very warm to the new addition. When asked over several occasions what a good name would be, he offered 3 options: Henry, Baby Sister, and Ice Cream.

There is not a loser in the bunch.

A week earlier our Friday night brought us a Saturday morning of 12 inches of snow, though much of Anchorage had closer to 20 inches. As the week ticked on the sun remained strong in the blue bird skies and the temps hovered a few degrees above freezing. The roads recovered and our trip a week later to Seward ended up being a perfect drive -- 10 degrees in the morning, sunny, and dry. The roads could not have been better and in 2 hours on the button we pulled into town.

Words cannot express how much of a champion traveler Henry was. He's rarely difficult, but this was exceptional. Over the two hours I only had to peel 2 oranges and in the final 30 minutes dig out a plastic helicopter. We pulled into our parking spot and shuffled across the street to the SeaLife Center.



It's really only a 2 hour museum, but Henry seemed to enjoy every inch of it. Digging around the fishing boat and its sound effect buttons was pretty glorious, but he also really enjoyed touching the starfish and anemones.

He even produced a thrill in identifying Fox Island poke out way in the distance of Resurrection Bay. We stood on the observation deck in the glaring sun, I pointed to the island on the map, then lifted my finger straight up and out into the blue ocean. "Fox Island out there," Hank confirmed with a smile.


On our slow drive out of town we passed a large and extremely busy playground. Becky called an audible, boots were slid back on, and in we went. 30 minutes later the 4Runner headed out of town, pushing south towards Moose Pass, a town Henry would not see as he had closed his eyes a handful of minutes outside of Seward.

Thanks to some nasty frost heaves he was shaken awake near Turnagain Pass, but that only gave him occasion to reiterate what he loved most about the day. "I like the Cash machine." Yes, the ATM in Seward really is that special.

Full Seward photo set here.

Henry's counting is going fairly well these days -- the main hitch being a switch to auto pilot after hitting the correct number. He'll count all 5 ducks on a page, pause, and then shift into "6, 7, 8, 9, 10." It'll work out just fine in the end. He does know how to buckle his shoe quite well.



Thanks to a PVC skating aid (we call it his "helper"), Henry has become much better at ice skating as well as much more excited about it. I've been suggesting it about once a week, but he's up for it 3 times a week, so off we go to either Cheney Lake or UAA every few days. We usually spend 10 minutes skating, followed by a 15 minute detour climbing around a snow bank, before concluding with a bit more skating. I'm trying to be careful and feed this fun without smothering it with too much enthusiasm to try just a bit longer.

Our dinnertime prayers find Mommy and Daddy having a tough time holding back the laughter. He often thanks God for food and family, but always thanks God for smoke detectors and flood lights. He's very earnest about it to say the least.

For the first time since settling in up here, we decided to skip the Sunday Iditarod restart in Willow. Our usual group of tailgaters were taking a pass as well, leaving us to flinch at the idea of going it solo. I'm certain we'll make it back up there next year with a little more spring in our step. Absence does make the heart grow fonder.

Therefore, we decided to double down on the Saturday ceremonial start here in Anchorage. Standing amidst the crowds downtown wasn't terribly alluring, but spreading out along the Campbell Airstrip on the east side of town was. Parking and elbow room were easily available, not to mention the science center being open with heat, snacks, and a few exhibits for Henry (photos here).

We watched about 20 dog teams come by, chased Henry around the woods as he happily discovered what "old man's beard" is, and ultimately found ourselves shocked that 1pm was moments away. Time to head home and wind down before nap started calling Henry's name.



Fur Rondy is drifting to a close, and we took advantage of a handful of events -- fireworks, carnival, running with the reindeer, and the train shows (photos here). Ah, the train shows -- where the true joy resides. At the Alaska Train Depot we spent well over an hour repeatedly watching the HO and Z trains buzz around their loops. Randy took a few shifts holding up our engineer as well.



The final event of our Fur Rondy was the open house at the Northern Lights Model Railroad Club, where they allowed visitors to view their large, permanent HO set. It was very impressive and gobbled up another smiling hour of Henry's time. They repeat this open house one Sunday a month, which is something we'll need to pencil in for sure. It was an absolute home run. (The set below is protected by plexi-glass, thankfully).



Ok. Spring, please.

Out of the blue, our social calendar is speeding up just as fast as the daylight is increasing. When I get home from work it's still light out -- a great sign of a spring that will someday come.

Mom and Dad were able to have a date on this past Saturday -- the ribeye and scallops were perfect, not to mention the company. Wednesday saw us heading to the dentist where Henry flat out stunned me with his behavior. He quietly ceased his current favorite game ("What is that for?" with a pointed finger) to lay back, calmly open his mouth, and sit still as Dr. Bob scraped at some plaque and applied a sealant. He was a complete champion and proudly selected a race car from the plastic treasure chest.



That night we took advantage of a Subway coupon and headed to an Aces hockey game. For $5 a ticket we could have plenty of fun watching warmups, staring at the zamboni, following the play of the first period, and staring at the zamboni again before hitting the road on track for a normal bedtime. That was the plan at least.

It all went as planned with one addendum. While standing along the glass during warmups a player from the Ontario Reign gave us a nod and held a puck in his glove. I nodded back and soon found myself leaning back to catch the cold, wet puck he had flipped over the glass. I immediately handed it to Hank and watched his smile beam. While Maggie and Casey clapped along with the music and crowd during the first period, Henry happily sat stoically with his puck clutched firmly in hand.

Winter remains in full force, but the days are getting longer and have been very sunny, so we bundle up and and head out as often as possible. Our momentum is inching towards spring, but the bitter cold has not budged. There has been a sad lack of snow, which only means the ice is clear and perfect, so off we headed for skating at Westchester Lagoon on a bright Saturday morning.

Meeting up with Maggie and Casey created a fun group of toddlers and parents that ended up with the entire lagoon to themselves. Henry once again happily tolerated ice skating for about 30 minutes and even moved his feet a bit while I propped him up and steered him around. That positive attitude in the face of a windy 9 degree day is confirmation of a winning event. As long as we keep getting reps in, one of these days he'll be able to stand on the ice skates alone. Predictably, his favorite moments were staring at the cell phone tower and digging around in the wood sheds near the fire barrels. Everyone had a great time (ie. no crying by anyone) and I even worked up a sweat skating around. Add in a hockey puck discovered in the snow bank and the day was a winner.



Maggie's birthday was the following day and the skating toddler trio reformed there. Henry's defining moment was clutching mommy and holding back tears as he watched the presents being opened because "it's not my birthday." He joined in the fun soon after it was explained that after the snow melts his birthday will come. "My turn will come after the snow goes away." We were impressed that he made an effort to restrain his emotions and didn't just let them gush. I say impressed, but I might just mean relieved because the volume behind that sadness was going to be impressive.

This morning we awoke to an inch of fresh powder and the only marks in the fresh snow were moose tracks looping around our front door and stoop -- all for the delicious salt spilled on the walkway.

Our first ice skating attempt was at the lake up the street and I believe it went well. 30 minutes, lots of slipping and sliding everywhere, but no fussing. That's a victory to be sure. In came the warm weather and the lake, while still safe, became a pockmarked mess.

So off to the indoor rink we went on Superbowl Sunday, which is a great way to beat the crowds. The key this time was to take advantage of not needing gloves and get Henry's paws locked around the safety equipment.



The plan worked well and he did a little better than last time. When we first hit the ice he immediately noticed an advertisement for a septic company on the boards and demanded, "Go see the truck." Regardless of the direction I was trying to steer our operation, he kept craning his head toward that truck. So towards the truck we went.

After about 20  minutes he stated calmly, "I'm done."
"Did you have fun playing hockey?"
"Oh yes."

Good enough for now.