Year Six from 12/28/87 to 12/28/1988
We Expand Our Family
We were masterful parents with one child, we could do two; besides, among our closest friends, it was oft discussed that you were not a “real parent” until you had more than one. As in, “Pfft. What do they know?” we scoffed as we observed other “starter” parents. Parenting doesn’t count until you have deal with sibling rivalry, sibling fighting, etc.–the whole Cain and Abel stuff. Allie arrived April 12, 1988 after a year of extreme highs and lows—the birth of Allie followed my miscarriage of twins. We purchased a Volvo station wagon after a car accident totaled the Honda Accord. In school, my earth science students who had written to astronauts, received personal letters in response to theirs, and many letters arrived on the days following the Challenger explosion. Dale won the Sigma Chi Teacher of the Year Award for biology, I won Jaycee Teacher of the Year and Sierra Club Teacher of the Year award for environmental science, but we had difficult working conditions as he coached volleyball and worked extra jobs in computer science to make ends meet and no pay raise for us in the near future.
Allie was an easy baby. We knew this driving home from the hospital. She slept in the car seat, both of us half-expecting wailing since that was Meghan’s M.O. I remember Dale saying, “Hey, let’s drive somewhere, anywhere—she’s asleep!” So amazed were we. That year we attempted more family trips, but my personal favorite was a ski trip to Bear Valley. By then, Allie was 8 months and a tranquil traveler, unlike Meghan who screamed, “Stop, here, okay?” at every “golden arches” she saw along the road, and there are lots of McDonald’s on the way to anywhere obese.
Again, our mantra was to maintain an active life-style, in spite of now two children. Cross-country skiing was the ideal solution to family time and exercise for Mom and Dad. We bundled up our girls, in layers and layers of long underwear, sweaters, snowsuits, mittens, snow goggles, and hats, ready for a perfect snow day. The ski shop fitted our four-year old, Meghan with the exact size of skis, no poles necessary and best of all, the fjellpulken or Swedish towing sled for Allie. Inside the sled, a tiny seat sat suspended by coiled springs, in front, a windshield for protection from wind and snow. The fjellpulken attached to the waist of the “towing” parent by means of a tow bar, which stopped the sled and kept it from careening into the parent. We tucked our bundled up bundle of Allie and headed for the cross-country ski trails. Allie latched onto the edge of the windshield like a piece of Velcro—not certain what new adventure was in store. We securely strapped her in, placed additional blankets around her, along with lunch and snacks for four, frozen water bottles, diapers, diaper changing pad, wipes, toys, first aid kit, extra pacifiers, bottles, dry baby clothes, everything responsible parents bring for a simple outing.
Freshly groomed trails through the pristine pines began a few feet from the lodge, but far from the bathroom, Meghan’s first stop, of course. After undressing, “potty-ing”, and dressing, we eventually got going. Allie’s mittened fingers still firmly affixed to the windshield and her pacifier in place, we began. One smooth stride on the skis gently rocked her seat back and forth, Allie’s firm grasp loosened. Another stride, another gentle sway, one hand dropped away. By the third complete motion by the towing parent, Allie’s hands released the windshield, her eyes closed, her breathing deepened, like every time we put in a car seat. Moreover, Meghan, our rabbit, found every bunny hill on and off the groomed trail. It was a perfect snow day.
Love is Complicated 