Oh Gibson

I've always wanted, oh how I've wanted, a guitar from the namesake company of our dog, Gibson. It has always been one of those things I have kept on my internal bucket list. Until this morning.

I followed a link to this article about how Gibson, the guitar company, has been pulling strings on the right wing side to allow it to continue to import outlawed wood. If you read deep enough into the article body, and you really should...there are four separate pages, you will see that Martin and Taylor have not only followed the letter of the law, they also support the ideal of the law as well.

I'm disappointed. I don't love my boy any less. But the fact that his namesake continues to flagrantly disregard a law that is trying not only to protect our world's environment but also support American jobs in the logging industry. I know my money will not be going to the Gibson guitar company.

Gibson is a father too

We (Hope, Emiko, Cheryl, Molly and Gibson) all piled into the family car for a visit up to Stacy's to see Gibson's 4 week old puppies. It was an early start from the house in Golden for us but we were all excited to see Gibson's pups.

When we arrived, Emiko was rapidly surrounded by about five or six adult Berner's. She was shy at first but her excitement at seeing so many "pup pups" rapidly overcame her desire to be held in our arms. She began to run around in Stacy's kitchen, waiting for the dogs to come find her.

From there, we moved out to the porch to see the puppies. Emiko peered over the gating at the little dogs at first. Hope laid out a clean towel in the puppy nursery, sat down on the floor and sat Emi on her lap. When the first puppy came by, Hope gently picked it up and set it Emi's lap.

Emiko first started out by gently patting the puppy's back. And then she leaned over, rested her face against the puppy's back, and cuddled it long enough for several cameras to capture the moment. After that, it became excessively difficult to say no to picking up a new puppy for her to play with.

What a wonderful Saturday morning!

I feel queasy

Oh Emi, your Dad was not squeamish in the past. Is it you who has brought this side out in him?

I'm not sure if it was the lack of food that left me feeling woozy. Or if it was my attempt to clean out Gibson's recently ruptured cyst while also attempting to keep Emi from poking at it in between cotton balls. It does not help that the cyst has gone from oozing blood and pus to me picking out dried pus balls from it.

Or if it was the nastiest poo to date that I had to clean off of Emi moments later.

But I think I threw up in my mouth a little. I had to sit down and catch a breath of fresh air!

My mother and father had an agreement. Dad took care of the blood and guts. Mom handled everything else. I may have to call my father into town....

And.

I think I'm hungry.

If I didn't know, I would never have known

Our daughter loves being outdoors. And today turned out to be a perfect day to get her out for her first real hike. We had originally planned to meet up with a group and do a hike up Guanella Pass but after we arrived in Georgetown, we found out the pass was closed due to a rock slide. We all decided to head back toward the city and do a hike just outside of Evergreen. Just a short walk in the woods, really.

A couple miles up and a couple down. The final stretch of the hike is above tree line and it looks very exposed. Luckily, our weather held out and was gorgeous with only a few drops of rain as we approached the cars. The last bit of the climb is a scramble up a large pile of rocks to the summit. The view was tremendous.

Emi did a fantastic job. She rode in a pack on Hope's back while I carried all the supplies in my pack. Gibson did just as he should and we are still amazed at his trail manners. Well, I'm even more amazed now but more on that in a bit. On the hike down, Emi fell asleep and was zonked nearly from the summit to the cars. Not a bit of fussing! She enjoyed her outdoor meal, her conveyance and didn't even seem to be bothered by the flying ants that descended upon us at the summit.

The group we hiked with was fantastic. There was a wide range of skill and age on our hike and everyone made it to the summit without any problems. One man we hiked with has more trail credibility than many in this world. He has summited Everest along with the other seven summits. He's an accomplished climber as well, at home on vertical faces of rock. He rides mountain bikes. He wrestled in high school.

Wait. Wrestling in high school?

Well, it needs to be mentioned that he is the only blind person who has ever summited Everest. And less than 100 people have ever completed the Seven Summits challenge...one of an elite handful that have stood on top of the tallest mountain on each of the seven continents. He's planning a mountain bike trip where he isn't the stoker on his tandem mountain bike.

Blind.

Months ago, Hope's school held a silent auction (they do this every year). She bid us into a hike with Erik Weihenmayer. Erik's daughter goes to Hope's school. I was excited to join in a hike with such an accomplished climber. Of course, I promptly forgot about our plans and was surprised when Hope reminded me to keep this very Sunday open for our hike with Erik.

Erik walks quite like the rest of us. When he is outdoors, he moves more naturally over varied terrain than many of us. On some of his training hikes, he would have his daughter on his back in a Kelty pack...he is that smooth! We passed many hikers on the trail, some going up and some going down. Unless they recognized Erik, I don't think any of them realized that he couldn't see where he was stepping. While on the trail, his wife walked in front of him with a bell attached to her hiking stick. He followed right behind with two hiking poles. The only verbal communication I heard was when there was a low tree that he needed to duck under. Other than that, he found his own way. Even on the scramble to the summit, he, quite simply, followed her up the boulder field to the top.

So while I was in awe of our hiking companion, I was also so impressed with our little girl. Emiko is so comfortable when she is out of the house; it makes us both realize that we need to motivate ourselves to keep her outside and exploring this great state that is our backyard. Now that Emi has hiked with the best of them, she'll need to settle for walking with her Mom and Dad for a little while.

As for Gibson? Well, his trail manners are generally pretty good. But he has the ability to get underfoot sometimes. He stops to smell things and blocks the entire trail. Or he will lay down i n the shade and block the entire trail. Or he just stands there and looks at us wondering why we are forcing him to climb on such a hot day and blocks the trail. He won't move until we walk through him. While he blocks the trail.

This made me a bit apprehensive as we started the climb. Once again, our dog just seemed to know. I spent a good portion of the hike down walking with Erik, his wife and Gibson. We talked about politics, Colorado, education, college, mountain biking and many other things. Gibson meandered down the trail at our side. Sometimes by me. Sometimes by Erik. Never once did he get underfoot. And he never blocked the trail.

Arriving home with Emi

We were able to bring Emiko home from the hospital on Friday in the early afternoon.

Driving takes on a whole new meaning when you have a little one secured in the backseat. I'm so much more nervous, scared of other drivers but feel that our little family is comfortably ensconced in the safety of our Volvo (thanks so much to Robbie!).

As we rolled up to our house, we noticed pink balloons tied to our mailbox and more balloons as well as streamers as we pulled into the garage. Molly had decorated our house as our welcome home (thanks to YOU Molly, for decorations and taking care of Gibs while we were out and about).



Gibson was excited to see me as I walked through the door but he was looking expectantly at Hope as she climbed out of the car. A quick hi to her and then he completely melted when I carried Emiko into the house. It is almost like he looked at us and said, "Finally. I've been wondering when you would figure it out and bring home a kid to complete this family!"

Gibson won't leave her side. Where he once slept by himself in the kitchen or living room at night, he now sleeps by the bassinet. When Hope gets up in the middle of the night to feed Emi, Gibs will go with them and sit by them as Hope nurses. If I am changing a diaper, he stands by my side as I clean Emi and get her dressed again.

We continue to be so impressed by this dog.



And now it is time for another nap. We hope to see you all soon here in Colorado.

Taking Emiko home

Just a quick hello from Denver this morning!

We are preparing to leave Rose Medical and head home to Golden. Taking the baby home.

And first introduction to Gibson...we'll let you know how it goes.

As an aside to taking Emi home for the first time. I drove home quickly on Wednesday night with a swaddling blanket. As I walked into the kitchen, Gibs was very excited to see me. But he was also super intrigued by the smell of the blanket in my hand. He turned circles in front of me, letting me know how happy he was to have me home. But he kept trying to smell the blanket that I had set on the kitchen table.

We played outside for a while and when we came back in, I took him upstairs into the nursery. He again sniffed at the blanket in my hand and he watched as I put the blanket into the crib. He seemed satisfied with that as an explanation. He spent the rest of our time together that night just watching me.

He will be a fantastic bigger brother for Emi, we are so happy he is so laid back and accepting.

Hello for the first time...

Anniversary night, 9/9/2008, 6:00 - 9:30 PM

What we wanted: a nice evening to ourselves, good food, good fun

Hope and I had a wonderful anniversary dinner on the night on 9/9. We went out and ate dinner at our favorite Indian restaurant, enjoyed a quick dinner and headed home. We lay around the house, cuddling and talking about the future and, around 9:30, I stood up to head out to put on my hockey instructor hat. Right as I stood up, Hope got up and leaned against the wall as her first "real" contraction hit her. And then promptly ran to the bathroom saying she had just peed her pants.
Hockey night: 9/9/2008, 9:30-10:30 (11:30) PM

What I wanted: a quick trip to the rink to instruct some adult hockey players...money!

I was flummoxed. Hope kept saying how it was ok, I should head out to the rink. She was convinced that it could be another two weeks before the baby popped out. I finally headed out to the rink and called her before I stepped on the ice. She said everything was still ok...a few more contractions but nothing big.

At 10:00, the adult hockey clinic began. I was helping run the skating drills and around 10:30, I glanced over my shoulder (good ice awareness) and noticed Hope walking through the door to the rink. She was grimacing but smiling and laughing...all at the same time. I skated off the ice immediately and she was laughing and apologizing at the same time.

"I'm so sorry, I dropped my phone in the toilet!"

Her contractions had progressed and become more painful. During an especially hard contraction, she managed to sweep the phone off the sink counter top into the toilet. She fished it out immediately, and like any woman who comes from a long line of frontiersmen, natives, farmers and all around tough-guys, she began drying out the phone between contractions! To no avail. So she climbed into her car and drove to the rink to notify me that things had changed.

Is this how it worked before the cell phone age?

Labor at home: 9/9/2008 - 9/10/2008, 10:30 PM - 12:00 AM

What we wanted: our Doula, our home (until it was time), the presence of a few of our friends if they were so inclined, snacks and water, a hot bath at the hospital, multiple positions for comfort, music from our "Birth" playlist

I suggested that she could labor right there in the rink. She gave me a laugh and pointed me to the locker room. I followed her back to the house. For the first time in my life, the red lights were perfect. Every red light we hit, she had a contraction. By the time it turned green, she was ready to drive again!

At home, we called our doula and doc and were eventually instructed to head into the hospital. I was trying to time contractions, grab the last remaining things on our birth day list, pack the car and support Hope each time a new contraction hit her. Needless to say, I wasn't doing well. I felt like I was spinning my wheels.

Gibson, on the other hand, was lying there watching our antics with a look on his face as if to say, "I've seen this all before. It is nothing new, it will all be fine." No concern, no excited anticipation, just the calm dog we have come to know and love. Come to find out later the next morning, he had laid by her upstairs the entire time I was gone as she went through her early contractions. He never got excited, he was just there for her. What an incredible dog!

I went to grab and reload the Ipod. Hope took one look at what I was doing and announced that it was time to go. She clambered into the back seat, got as comfortable as she could be and we were off. I called Molly as we left the house and she said she would head over to look after Gibson.

Labor in the car: 9/10/2008, 12:00 AM - 12:30 AM

What we wanted: non-rush hour drive to our hospital, no road side delivery, green lights, no puking in the car

Well, it wasn't rush hour! I drove as quickly as I could without being stupid or putting Hope into the side doors of the car in corners. When we got off I-70 and onto Colorado Boulevard, we hit every red light on the road (all I could think about was this clip). All I wanted was a police escort to get me there before Hope blew up the back of the car.

We met our doula in the parking lot and went in through the E.R. Hope was progressing so fast that she was skipped past the other two laboring mothers who were there waiting to be admitted.

Labor...for real: 9/10/2008, 12:30 - 5:00 AM

What we wanted: natural as can be

Hope was taken straight past the Triage area of Labor and Delivery. There was no doubt that she was out of pre-labor. Straight to room 3. She was set in a bed and the baby was monitored externally for twenty minutes. She then labored in bed in various comfortable positions. We drew a bath so she could spend some time laboring in a jetted tub.

At this point, I went outside to move the car from the E.R. parking lot and to grab our bags of snacks, clothing, books and other goofy things. When I came back, her labor had intesified and she was struggling to recover between contractions. We moved Hope out of the tub and back to the bed. By this time, the contractions were so intense that it was all we (our doula, our nurse and myself) could do to hold her in a slightly suspended position. Contractions were every two minutes and Hope was gasping trying to rest for the minute in between.

Incredibly, all the time she was undergoing this incredible test and during her contractions, she was cognizant enough to exscuse herself when she burped. And to "God Bless" our doula when she sneezed. To apologize for making too much noise. Each time, it made the rest of us laugh and it allowed me a reminder to know that Hope was doing ok...she was still the same woman under the sheet of pain that was wrapping her up.

At 7.5 cm dilated, she finally said she couldn't take it anymore, she wanted an epidural. To my relief! She was exhausted and in a great deal of pain each time. However, the anesthesiologist was backed up by three other pregnancies and was not able to come in for about forty minutes. By the time he had arrived and applied the epidural, Hope was at 9.5 cm. She had gotten through the hardest part all on her own.

I was so proud.

This afforded us a moment for every one to rest. Hope could still feel the pressure from the contractions but even she was able to nap for about 45 minutes until it was time to push. I passed out on a sofa. Our doula watched the contractions on the little machine (that went boing!). Our nurse disappeared for the first time, likely to rest and check on her other patients.

Delivery: 9/10/2008 5:00 - 6:40 AM

What we wanted: a healthy baby, no C-section, no episiotomy

Hope woke at about 5 and announced that it was time...something had changed. The nurse arrived and pulled back Hope's blankets. The amniotic sack, which had yet to break, had appeared. It was pushing out just enough for us to see...almost like a little water balloon. The nurse popped the sack and Hope could immediately feel a relief in pressure.

The nurse began having Hope push with each contraction. Hope could tell each time a contraction started, even through the epidural, and eventually the nurse pulled the little stress sensor off and let Hope tell us when it was time to push. Things progressed quickly and we could soon see a little head and hair appear just inside. The nurse went and got Hope a mirror so she could see what was going on. At first, Hope seemed a little scared to look but her eyes went wide as she watched the baby's head get closer and closer with each push.

As an aside, I wasn't sure if I would be able to look at Hope's vagina during birth. It seemed strange to me that I would be able to watch our baby pop out. I glanced at the amniotic sack but once we could see the baby's hair, it was like I couldn't look away. I was so ready with anticipation that I couldn't look anywhere but at this new child we were bringing into the world together.

The nurse asked Hope to stop pushing around 6:15 as the baby was so close, it could pop out at any moment. We waited for another (seemingly interminable) 20 or so minutes until the doc arrived (our doc was not on that day). When she arrived, Hope pushed maybe three or four contractions worth and a new child was brought into our world. The doc immediately moved Baby Mukai onto Hope's belly and invited me to check the sex. I had to look twice just to verify that she was a girl. Between tears and laughter, I told Hope. The doc then invited me to come cut the baby's umbilical cord. The baby was swaddled and moved closer to Hope.

Hello for the first time, our precious little child.The baby looked around, waved her fingers and outstretched hands about, cried momentarily and made us fall in love.
8 pounds. 20.5". A lovely little girl!

Another Full Day

Ah, stupidity.

I went to help with final selections on the Squirt A travel team on Sunday. The final 3 positions that were getting filled were not easy to pick. The skaters were all working very hard and looked very equal. But the final picks were made and my friend is off to what we hope will be a good start to a fun season.

I had forgotten about the fun and excitement at the youth level. I don't work enough youth games and it was fantastic to be involved, even just a little bit, with helping out. Squirts and 10 and under and they were awesome to watch out playing hockey and being creative on the ice.

Then (it was a busy day) it was off to Bed, Bath and Beyond. Our shower caddy has been rusting out in the upstairs bathroom and has been sliding on the shower head. This results in all razors, soaps, shampoos and what not being launched at your unprotected toes. Usually when your face is covered with soap and you are utterly defenseless. It makes for an interesting dance during the early morning shower.

So, I wanted to get us a new caddy that without an eject button. It was not a hard decision to make. I was in and out of the store in a matter of minutes.

At home, I played with Gibson for a moment and then went upstairs to assemble the new shower caddy. There were many zip ties holding the various parts together. I started working my way up from the bottom using the cutters on a set of needle nose pliers (I couldn't find my cutting dikes). First one went without a hitch. The second one popped as I was wedging the pliers into place. And of course, I drilled my eye with the sharp, pointy-thingy end of the pliers.

A bright flash of light and, as I looked down, I could see my contact where it had popped out and landed on the floor in front of my face (I was kneeling at the time). I stood up immediately and ran to grab my phone from downstairs to call Hopey and then ran back upstairs to check myself in a mirror for damage.

Some blood and a pretty good puncture wound below my eye. A cut on my eyelid over my eye but nothing beyond that. A quick (haha) trip to the ER, a few sutures later and a quick eye scan which revealed a scratch on my cornea and all is good.

So...what did I learn this weekend? Wear safety glasses and use the right tool.

Oh, and Gibson? Yeah, he was stuck at home by himself from about 10:30 in the morning until about 9:30 at night. How did he do? Magnificently. What an incredible dog!

Bicycle Commuting - Intermezzo

I've noticed a lack in reporting on my bicycle commuting this summer. A few factors have contributed to my lackluster performance as of late.

1. Flat tire on the road bike - my road tires are roached...dry rotted and squared off. I have new tires on the way but I was hesitant to fix the flat and try riding again out of fear that the same would happen again. I fear I have picked up too much glass in my front tire and I really, really do not want to catch a flat at 30 mph on the road. Actually, I fear the resulting wreck.
2. Titanium ARC project - it is coming along. I've needed some parts for the past weeks and finally placed the order the other day. I should be able to get it together over the next few days.
3. Hope was gone for over two weeks and then worked all last week. So I brought Gibson to work. Commuting on a bike becomes a little past difficult when you have a 110 pound dog to bring to work. I suppose I could try putting him on a bus....
4. It's damn hot. No really, my drive to work often finishes with a low to mid 80's ambient temperature. This puts a damper on my desire to hop on a bike for my morning commute.
5. Gas got more expensive and I felt like contributing to the oil exec's profits. Oh...wait a minute.
6. There is NOOOO...rule six.
7. Riding the full suspension mountain bike to work is really not appealing. Knobby tires on pavement never equates to fun. They just don't belong there.
   
8. Tell me to get off my lazy ass...I should be riding a bike. Really.
   

We are college edumacated

This reminds me of a story from oh so long ago. About a friend who spent the night before we drove back to Middlebury at the end of a brake. She managed to somehow sit on her thumb. Now, while you may not be chuckling right now, it WAS REALLY FUNNY at the time. We are college edumacated (or getting so, at the time). Just how do you manage to sit on your thumb?

So, Molly and I decided it would be good to reintroduce Gibson and her cat, Peter. They have met once before. This winter, during the Super Bowl, we thought it would be a good idea to introduce the two. It didn't go well. Peter, never having met any other animal before, ran about the apartment, quite literally bouncing off the walls trying to escape the monstrosity that had presented itself so rudely. He didn't de-puff for several days.

So, of course it was a good idea to try again! Peter was in the backyard of Molly's new house. Mind you, Peter has never really been allowed to roam in the out of doors before. I brought Gibson in on his leash so I could "control" him. Peter puffed immediately. Gibson was very excited at the prospect of a new playmate. Both parents were speaking encouraging words to their respective progeny. Then Peter bolted, Gibson began straining at his leash enough so that I was forced to get him on the ground and literally lay on top of him.

Then Peter paused and all hell broke loose. Gibson let up for a moment and I thought he was going to relax a little. Nope, it was a spectacular ruse. He took off immediately, pulling his ROPE leash through my hands. I held on until there was no rope left. Yup. Massive rope burns on my ring finger. Molly grabbed Peter and was quickly bitten by the frightened kitty. Four deep puncture wounds. They ran about the yard with Peter bouncing off the fence walls. Peter eventually turned and batted Gibson and kept the big dog at bay. Gibson was shocked and we quickly shut down play time.

Gibson was returned to the back of the Rover and a puffy cat slowly settled down in the backyard to lick his bleeding paws (from the wooden fence). And we, with our college edumacation, started to clean our wounds.

Are we stoopid? Yup. Will we try it again? Likely? Why? Because we are stoopid.