Puddle Jumping and Lagoon

During the recent rainy spell we had we decided we'd had enough days indoors watching cartoons and playing Uno, Ava's new favorite game and so we booted up and went puddle jumping.

The only thing was the puddles were sort of scarce.  Odd, right?  Ava decided to trek up the swift running gutter water.

 We finally found some good puddles in our church's parking lot.

 About this time Ava started to complain about puddles inside of her boots.  It was time to head home.

Brielle stayed warm and dry in her stroller with her double fleece blanket.  It's raining cats and dogs out there.  Better you, than me Big Sister.  Sometimes it's good to be a baby.

This is Red Butte Creek that runs through the back of our church's grounds.  It was crazy fast and way higher than normal.  It still is last time I looked.  Ava said it looked like chocolate milk.

This is the sole picture I took of a "kiddie track meet" I signed Ava up for a few weeks back at the scary Fairmont Park here in Sugar House.  Although there is playground equipment I've never seen kids playing on it, and for good reason.  There are transients that wander the park.  The joys of city life.  I thought she'd enjoy it because she loves to run.  Turned out to be more standing in line than anything else.  They had a tennis ball throw, standing long jump and two different races.  Ava's age group had about forty kids in it, thus the standing in line.  Ava was more excited about the free swimming pass to the local aquatic center and kept asking when we could go swimming. 

A couple of weeks ago we went to Lagoon for the day for Brig's work party.  We had fun.  It also made me feel old. 

Ava just had to have her face painted.  A half hour of standing in line and $4.99 for this work of art on her cheek was totally worth it for that smile.  I say that with just a touch of sarcasm.  Originally she wanted one of the elaborate full face paintings, but at $10.99 it was just a bit too rich for Mom's wallet.

Shortly after this picture was taken one of Brig's co-workers offered to watch the girls so we could go on a couple of rides.  I've never exactly been a dare devil, but have enjoyed a few roller coasters in my time.  Somehow I let Brig talk me into going on Wicked.  The roller coaster that zooms you straight up into the sky and somehow manages not to buck you off at the top before sending you straight down.  Neither of us had ever been on it.  We waited in line for about 45 minutes all the while I started to wish I had at least told somebody, anybody which family members I wanted to raise my girls after I was gone.  I was sure I was going to die.  To make matters worse we were in line behind a big group of high school students, all paired up and joined at their pelvic bones as they kissed and cuddled their way to the front of the line.  I guess it was just payback for all the PDA I used to subject others to with my high school boyfriend.  When it was finally our turn to strap ourselves into the ride of death I started to almost hyperventilate.  The girls next to me started head banging and flashing what I always knew as the coyote sign, you know...mouths shut and ears open.  I'm pretty sure it doesn't mean that to today's generation though.  "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh."  I kept repeating as we curved around to begin our flying descent to the pants wetting crest at the top.  It happened so fast.  Not the pants wetting mind you, I managed to keep it together, but barely.  We were off and in my case screaming all the way.  As we reached the peak I felt as if I was leaving my seat.  All I could think about was what it was going to feel like to fly through the air before crashing to my death on the hood of some poor sucker's Chrysler LeBaron.  Somehow I survived though.  We made it back to our progeny with nary a scratch upon us, unless you count the mental anguish and damage done to my vocal chords.