Seven pounds

*This post is out of sequence - it's from Thursday but due to Fair madness, I didn't get it up until just now.

Thursday was one of those days - you know, those rare, idyllic ones that really scratch the itch. In our case, the itch has been caused by many sleepless and tormented nights on the part of Stella, which means sleepless nights for Chris and I too. We're exhausted, and concerned about Stella, who is clearly working through something.

Zoey, (aka the Rooster,) sleeps hards and wakes up early. By 8:45 Thursday morning, she and I were on the bike with $12, a bottle of water, my cell phone and no plans in sight.

Zoey has seven pounds to go until she exceed the weight limit for her bike seat. I don't have any plans for stunting her growth as of yet, but oh, will I be sad when our cuddly bike days expire.

We rode forever in the cool morning air, visiting the alpacas that live up the canyon, taking in the sites, and eventually ending up at the library coffee shop.




With its delicious snacks, humongous children's area, endless magazine selection, (including The New York Times Sunday Mag,) and inspiring LEED-certified design, the library aims to please, and succeeds in every way.

    

Today, the library brought exceptional pleasure because while we were there, we got a phone call from Joanna, who confirmed her trip out here in August, AND a text from Stella's teacher, Brooke, announcing a quick pit stop in Bozeman tomorrow.
Stella and Zoey have introduced Chris and I to some amazing people - you'd be hard pressed to determine who in the family is more excited to see Joanna and Brooke. We all can't wait.

After Z and I concluded our Joanna and Brooke dance party, we hopped back on the bike to meet Stella for our Wednesday lunch and music date at The Emerson Center for the Arts. This week, we were treated to The Meatskin Jubilee Jug Band, who played an outrageous rendition of The Ramones' 'I want to be sedated.' I'll be following these guys.

Due to unforeseen logistical details, Stella ended up with no bike, so we scrounged up a sorry little scooter for her at the used store and made the two-mile trek home slowly, complainingly, but surely. We stopped at Danielle and her six-year old twins' house on the way home for provisions, play, and a little on-the-spot child sleep therapy for Stella. (Danielle's a therapist.) In under five minutes, Danielle uncovered a major root of our sleep issues - the creaky bunk bed - and got in touch with Stella's stuffed cat, who apparently will divulge all sorts of things if we'll just listen. It's amazing how a skilled person can make something so difficult and perplexing become straightforward and simple.

The bunkbed was gone by bedtime, and Stella slept like a lamb.

Thank you, Danielle!