And the Darwin award goes to....

You may or may not have seen the news reporting that some parents are claiming the "bumbo" seat is dangerous and in need of safety recalls after children were left in the bumbo seat unattended, only to fall out and hit their heads. Ummm...yeah. These people are idiots.
If you aren't familiar, the bumbo seat is a fantastic little foam seat from South Africa. It is made for babies as young as 8 weeks, or as soon as they're strong enough to hold up their heads. It is engineered in such a way that a little baby can sit up and look around before their strong enough to hold themselves up on their own. Here's the thing however, the bumbo seat is a little foam seat made to be used on a flat surface, under total PARENTAL SUPERVISION. It is not a child-containment system. It's not a car seat, or a swing with a seatbelt or a 5-point safety harness. Evie loves her seat, but I would never dream of leaving her in it unsupervised, and I'd never place her in it on the counter. Because, you see, it's a little FOAM seat. No straps. No anchors.

On the box and printed on the seat itself is a very obvious safety warning:

"Never leave your baby unattended. Never use on a raised or uneven surface, as a car seat, in a bath or in other water. The Bumbo is happiest on the floor. Do not use until your baby is fully able to support its head.
Warning: Some larger or more developed babies could possibly get out of the Bumbo Seat."

The kids who were injured had been placed up on the table or on the counter, and the parents walked away from them. The kids were not seriously injured, thank goodness. But now the parents are demanding a recall. How about, instead of investigating the seat, we investigate the parents?
Some people shouldn't be breeding.

End-rant

Happy 30th Bryan!!!

Bryan turns 30 on Tuesday. To commemorate, I threw him a surprise Oktoberfest party last night. It was a great time and we enjoyed spending time with friends and neighbors. I was so busy playing hostess, I completely failed in taking pictures, except for these couple we took before the party really got going.

Shoe saga

Those of you who know me, know that I am anything but a clothes-hose. My shoe collection is even more lacking than my closet.
When it comes to my feet, comfort always wins over style. Last year, I purchased a pair of Keen presidio "casual shoes." they were brown with little red stiching. In the style of a sneaker, but with a little more structure. I loved my Keens. I wore them every single day. With jeans, with khakis, I wore my Keens.
Those of you who know me, also know that I have very small feet. My shoe size ranged from a 5.5 to a 6.5, depending on the style and brand. Because of my little, tiny feet, I could purchase my tennis shoes in the children's department, something I was always very proud of. Because, well, kids shoes are cheaper.
Then I became pregnant, and my body took on a life of its own. By March, I could no longer get any of my shoes on my feet. Determined this was just a temporary side-effect of the pregnancy, I purchased a pair of green crocs to get me over the hump. They were soft and squishie, and I could get them on without having to bend over. I assumed that nobody would dare comment on the ugly clogs on the feet of the very pregnant, very sick woman with an IV bag sticking out of her arm. And I was right for the most part.
In my 9th month, I still could not get any shoes on my feet, and I had grown tired of the crocs, so I purchased some Adidas running shoes at the Nordstrom rack for a very small price. They were a size 8.
It has now been three months since I gave birth, and I still have no shoes that fit. Except the running shoes, of course.
On my birthday, I decided it was time for a new pair of Keens. I went down to REI and I tried them on in a size 7. They were too tight. So I tried on the 7.5s. Still a little too tight. I tried a different style; perhaps Mary Janes would work? Nope. they cut into my toes.
I tried on different brands, and nothing fit like my Keens had the year before. So I bought the 7.5 sized- Keens, thinking that they would stretch. They did not. After wearing them inside my house, trying to break them in, I determined that the tightness wasn't going to alleviate.
So I took them back to REI. You could not tell I had ever worn them. I grabbed the size 8, and made the exchange.
I wore the size 8 Keens for two hours yesterday, and my feet are in agony today.
These aren't boots, or high heels. These are casual, sneaker-type shoes. I shouldn't have to break them in.
So, back to REI I go. To return the Keens, and look into a new brand. The problem isn't so much the length, but the width. I've always had somewhat wide feet, but now, everything I put on, hurts. Even the guy measuring my feet the other day mentioned how wide my feet were.
I have to say, I feel my identity has been a bit altered. I have always had very tiny feet. I knew the size of them, and I could walk in and grab shoes, without having to try them on, because I knew what fit on my little tiny feet.
Now, I still am not sure I know my size, (I know what the little measuring thingy says my size is, but that doesn't always ring true) I I have yet to find shoes that acutally fit and doesn't hurt, other than running shoes, which I really don't want to wear every day.
And so the saga continues.

Mama bear strikes again...

Something strange happened today in the parking lot. After emptying the cart, I threw my purse in the front seat and proceeded to the back of the Jeep with Evie, so I could change her diaper, which had become dangerously full. I had yet to return the cart to the corral, so I left it pushed up against my Jeep while I changed her. The parking lot was relatively empty, and I was not preventing anyone from easily parking.
While I was standing there, I saw a strange man approach from way across the parking lot. He headed directly toward me. We made eye contact through the windshield, and he continued to stare as he came nearer, nearer. All the hairs were standing up on the back of my neck, I felt my body stiffen. He stared at me, I stared at him.
He never broke his gaze. He was just confidently, with purpose, walking directly toward me, in the middle of a mostly-empty parking lot. I started to panic. I had Evie laying in the cargo area of my Jeep. She was half-diapered, with her pants around her ankles. I quickly closed the diaper, and got a good hold of her, ready to run, and scream, as this strange man continued to make a bee-line directly at me.
After what seemed like 20 minutes, (but was probably 20 seconds,) he arrived at my Jeep, and circled toward the back, where I was standing. While he was still a good 5 or 6 feet away, I spoke:
Me: "Yes?" (Very gruff, and dripping with venom)
Strange man: "Hi...I'm sorry, I thought you had a little kid."
Me: blink...blink. (He must not be able to see her...don't say anything, and maybe he'll go away.)
Strange man: "Umm...can I take this cart back for you?"
Me: "Oh...sure. That would be great....thanks"
Him: (muttering while walking away )"I didn't mean to bother you, I just thought you had a little kid."
Me: "Thank you."
I felt a little embarrased for rebuking him. In retrospect however, he continued to weirdly stare at me, after he took away the cart. He then got in his truck and drove behind me for a solid 10 minutes, before turning off.
Perhaps he was just a nice guy, and I was being over-protective, but again, he was a strange man, approaching me and my baby. Don't mess.

Dinner with Friends

Only one person in this photo has given birth...can you tell which one? We met up with some of my Pepperdine/Heidelberg friends Sunday night. It was so great to see and catch up with everyone, many of whom I hadn't seen since graduation.

A visit with David and Cory

We met some friends in Seattle for dinner Sunday night, so we stopped by my uncle and aunt's house for a little visit. Their girls are 6, 4 and 6 months, respectively. This is what happens when one child is in the 100% and the other is in the 50th% range.

All tuckered out

A Treasure to Behold, indeed

My mom's friend Kathy made and sent this quilt to us for little Evie. How beuatiful is this?!?
I anticipate years upon years of Evie snuggling up around the house in this one. She'll probably take it with her to college, and then one day to her home, where she can share it with her own baby.
Simply a treasure. Thank you, Kathy. We love you...even without the beautiful quilts.

When I was eight, I thought I'd accomlish the following when I grew up...

*Playing first base for the Seattle Mariners.
-I was convinced I was going to be the first female professional baseball player. Somehow, that didn't pan out.

*Parenting four or six kids.
-Not three, not five, four or six. Because those are even numbers, and you can play games easier with even numbers.
I have one kid. She will be three months-old on Sunday. She may be in fact be the only kid I birth from my loins, for fear I
may not live through another pregnancy.

*Live on a ranch in a big farm house, with a wrap-around porch and a bunch of horses.
-Does living on an almost half-acre with a faux-porch and two dogs count?

*Drive a big, red, 4x4 truck
-I drive a silver Jeep, but it is a 4x4

*When done playing baseball, work for National Geographic as a photojournalist/biologist/archeologist
-Because when you work for National Geographic, you need to be versatile.

*Graduate from Pepperdine, and the University of Washington
-Well, I did graduate from Pepperdine and I earned my teaching cert. from Whitworth College...which is a University in
Washington.

*Be married to Kirk Cameron
-Glad that didn't pan out, he's a bit too religious for me

Today, 20 years later, I'm pretty happy with how things have turned out thus far. I have a great husband, a beautiful daughter, a nice house on a quiet street, with nice neighbors. I have good friends, a solid education and usually, my health. I don't have my mom, but for the most part, I really don't have any major regrets. I hope in another 20 years, I'll be able to say the same.

A Sleepy Kind of Day

It's 54 degrees, rainy and windy. Some might call this a blustery day, but here at the Scott house, it's a sleepy kind of day.
Nobody wanted to get up this morning. Bryan had to get up to go to work, and I had to get up to feed Evie, but neither of us did so with ease or grace. Feeling tired, and a bit sore for some reason, I just brought Evie to my room and we went back to bed. (with feedings in between) I finally got out of the bed around 9:30 and showered, dressed Evie and myself and came down to start the day. I put her in her swing on the lowest setting, hoping she wouldn't go right to sleep, but alas, she's back out.
She has pretty much remained asleep for most of this day, and frankly, I think she's got the right idea.
My Jeep is in ths shop with a gas leak. It turns out that when the fuel filter was last changed, the mechanic didn't tighten down the hose properly or something, because it fell off completely yesterday when I was at Target, which meant that gas was leaking all over the ground under my car. I opted against driving a car leaking gasoline everywhere, and had it towed to the dealership, where it remains, as hoses now have to be replaced for safety purposes. In case you didn't know, this Jeep is new to me. We bought it a week ago, after we learned that our really cheap Jeep that we got for a super low price last January was going to need about $3000 in repairs to make it safe to drive. So we traded it in for a 2004 Jeep...which now has a gas leak. Before you say something about Jeeps though, remember my husband works for them, which is why I'm not driving a Honda.
In other news, I've joined the, Working Closet Photo Pool, which has been a very interesting experience.
Finally, I am seriously thinking about shooting my dog. He is howling at the fence, where he has been howling most of the day. I just went out and yelled at him, and now he's hiding under the deck, because me yelling the phrase "knock it off" is apparently so violent and nasty that he must hide. He's such a pansie.

Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Mike come to visit

Nancy is actually my cousin, but since my mom died, she and Mike have graciously stepped in to act as parental figures to me. When Evie was born, they became her surrogate grandparents.

Watching the Food Network with Daddy

Trying to crawl

Evie's favorite position...standing

My Mocs

My husband calls these my "ugly Hiawatha mocs." I call them my super comfy, retro; make me think of my mom, Hiawatha mocs. My mom bought these mocs in 1977. She had me two years later; she was 20. For the entirety of my childhood, she wore these around the house on cold, rainy days.
Friday will be the 2nd anniversary of her death. She died at 12:30am on the 21st; She was 46. My birthday ended at 11:59pm on the 20th. I was 26.
I took care of her that last year, sharing stories, sharing tears and laughter. I fed her, bathed her, dressed her, and changed her, just as she did for me when I was her baby. This was the most difficult year of my life, and my marriage, but I am so thankful to have been able to be there.
My mother was a very petite, very beautiful woman. She had style, she had class, and she had clothes. Boxes upon boxes of beautiful clothes. In her final months, she spent her days distributing her wardrobe. She had all the important women in her life come over, and together they would go through her closet. She, lying in her bed, pale and weak, would direct the women on which clothes fit them best, down to the shoes. Once they had tried everything on, she would give them her clothes.
I couldn’t wear anything from her closet, as we weren’t the same size. But I could wear these mocs, and so she gave them to me. They lace up like high-tops and have leather fringe down the sides. They're ratty, and old, and there's a hole in the toe. But every time I look down at my feet on a cold, rainy day, I see my sock peeping through, and I remember my mom. I remember her snuggled up on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on her lap, a blanket over her legs, her mocs peeking out. We’d be watching a movie together, and she would be laughing. Her laugh would fill the room, and fill my heart with joy.
I can’t hear her laugh anymore, and there’s a piece of me that died with her. But whenever I wear these ratty old mocs, I think of my mom, and I smile.

15 Reasons why I hate Vegas.

1) It's freaking hot. 110 degrees is too hot. Especially with 30mph winds blowing the heat on you.
2) It's dry. I have had a sore throat and chapped lips since Wednesday.
3) It's dirty.
4) It smells like an ash tray.
5) "Professional women" are working the strip in the middle of the day.
6) People are drunk at 9am...hmmm, maybe I'm just jealous of this one? No, being drunk at 9am is no way to live. At least not when you're over 21.
7) There is no place to sit. Unless you want to sit in front of a slot machine. If you just want to sit down for a moment, and you're walking around your hotel, after the 11am required check-out, but your plane doesn't leave until 5pm, and you want to feed your child, or rest your legs, you cannot. You are welcome to sit in the bathroom, on the skanky floor, but that is your only option. Hanging out at the airport sounds better, so you do that.
8) People are wearing stillettos and mini skirts in the morning.
9) Because of the stillettos, and the drunken stupor, people don't walk very well. They just list back and forth in front of you, and in a flank of 5 across, so there's no way to get around them.
10) The "great shopping" is only great if you're a hollywood actor, a media mogul or their child.
11) They think the Venetian hotel is just like going to Italy. Umm...no, it is nothing like Italy. Except for the smoking...that's exactly the same.
12) There is no place to change a diaper. No koala station, no counter top, no lounge. They should just say, "no babies allowed."
13) Natural, working breasts are not welcome, only silicone breasts that stand and point out all on their own.
14) There's a drought and nobody has a lawn, but the Bellagio puts on a great water show every 15 minutes, every night.
15) Just walking through the hotel lobby makes you feel like you need a shower.

They have Coffee Bean!!!!

Going to the Pool

We went to the pool for an hour, but it was just way too hot. While there however, many folks came up and complimented me on the cuteness of my son. Apparently boys wear pink sun hats and purple swim diapers these days. (The glasses were purely for fashion purposes...they lasted about 10 seconds)

Evie on our bed in the hotel

This is where Evie and I spent the majority of our time in Vegas. Too hot outside for walking around. Too smokey in the hotel for walking around. We weren't allowed at any of Bryan's functions, so we hung in the hotel room quite a bit.

Bellagio

We did walk the strip the first night, and spent some time watching the fabulous water shows at the Bellagio. Evie slept in the Mei Tai (strapped to Bryan) the whole time. She was oblivious to the honking horns, bright lights, and drunken people.

New Haircut

I got my hair cut today... No longer could I handle the tugging on my hair, and, well, I was just sick of the pony tail.

Off to Vegas...

Bryan has to go to Vegas tomorrow for a business trip and Evie and I are tagging along. We are a bit nervous about travelling on a plane with a 10-week old...we don't want to be "those people," but it just has to be done.
I'm not really sure what Evie and I will do while daddy is at work, but the hotel (The Venetian) has a couple of pools, so I think time in the water will be a must. I may teach Evie how to play poker too... :-)
We'll be back Friday night...stay tuned for picts.

Thank goodness for Karen...

In addition to introducing me to baby carriers, Karen also gave me a miracle blanket...otherwise know as baby-lockdown. What we're talking about here is a special blanket that serves as a straight jacket/swaddler for the baby. Said baby cannot, try as she might, escape from this blanket. The subsequent result is that said baby will simply fall off to sleep, defeated.
Last night, Evie staged another bed-time coup detat. After three hours of crying and screaming whenever we layed her down, we decided it was time to go back to the basics. I remembered the mircale blanket, which until now, was too big for little Evie. We wrapped her up, plugged her w/ a pacifier, put her on her side and rocked her while we made shooshing noises...just like they say to do in the books.
In a matter of moments, Evie closed her eyes, relaxed her little body and drifted off to sleep. She remained asleep until I had to physically wake her this am for a feeding. Needless to say, we will be using this special swaddle blanket every night for a while.

Domestic Goddess..

So my good friend Karen has created a monster. She is a self-proclaimed "sling-whore," a woman who has more babycarying devices than Amelda Marcos has shoes. She introduced me to the sling and mei-tai...a Japanese-syle baby carrier. I'm a huge fan of the Mei-Tai, and I also discovered the Beco baby carrier. The prices have caused me to choke however, so I decided that I could make them myself. With grandma's old 1960s Singer Instamatic, I went to work. Karen had already gifted a fabulous genuine Mei-Tai to me, so I used it as a pattern for my homemade one. She then mailed her Beco carrier all the way from Colorado, so that I could make a pattern off of it. Below are my first attempts. The khaki and pink carrier is the Mei-Tai, the khaki and green chckered carrier is the Beco. I prefer the Mei-Tai.

Steph's Dad comes for a visit

Right on track...

In all the hubub of Evie's fussiness, I completely forgot to include her stats from her 2-month appointment. She weighs 10lbs, 90z, and is 23 inches long. She's right on track for a two month-old in most areas, although she wants to stand all the time...which makes mommy and daddy fear how busy she will be in another month or two. Hopefully she won't be like her uncle Travis, who at 9 months, was climbing to the top of the refrigerator.

I can sit up in my bumbo seat!

So this is how a baby controls her parents...

Over the past nine weeks, Bryan and I have been congratulating ourselves on our gem of a baby. So quiet, so calm, so amiable. She's slept in her own bed since the night we brought her home. We've been working on getting her to fall asleep on her own, but at least she sleeps in her own bed, we've been telling ouselves. Well God must have heard and determined enough is enough. Day three of our own production of Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde continued last night as Evie went to the mat with us over bedtime. She had been pretty fussy all day, and I was getting pretty tired. Around 6pm, things really started to get bad. She's been struggling with colic and reflux, and every night is a little tough for a few hours. I feel horrible for her when she starts arching her back, pulling up her legs and crying in discomfort. Usually we spend this time walking up and down the street, rocking her, bouncing her, anything we can think of to help with the reflux. Well last night, after a full day of kvetching and no nap, I informed Bryan that a car ride was in order. To my dismay, it did not help. She would stop crying when we were going fast...just like the bus in "SPEED," we risked explosion if we went under 55 miles per hour, but after a while that didn't even help. So we returned home after two hours of crying, with a still very awake and very annoyed baby. It was now 8:45pm. I marched her upstairs to our room, sat on the bed and fed her. She ate. Her eyes were heavy. After 15 minutes, I burped her, and tried to give her a little more. She wasn't interested. So I rubbed her back another minute or so, kissed her, and layed her in her bed. I turned on the baby monitor and came downstairs. It was a mere matter of minutes before the crying started. Slow at first, then it escalated to a piercing, "someone is maiming me," kind of cry. I let her cry for 5 more minutes, and it only got worse and worse. So I went in, picked her up, rocked her, kissed her, sang to her. She quieted down, so I layed her back in her bed. She screamed. I left her a few more minutes...the crying only got worse. So I picked her up and tried to console her, but she didn't stop crying. Bryan came in after a few more minutes, she was still crying unconsolably. Even he could not get her to calm down. Over the next few hours, Bryan and I tried everything we could think of. We walked with her, we rocked her, we layed her by herself, we just held her, bounced her, put her in her swing, took off her jammies, put them back on, changed her diaper, just for the principle of the matter. I tried feeding her a little more, she screamed even worse. Nothing stopped the horrible crying. By this point, I was ready to take her to the hospital, certain she was having some horrible reaction to the shots from Tuesday. She has been cranky, but never like this. We took her temperature, and the thermometer said she didn't have a fever. But she felt warm to me, so I decided we should give her a bath, since she always loves her baths. This was a stroke of genius. She happily splashed, and kicked and cooed in delight. Bryan and I sat in the bathroom, both of us resting one hand on Evie, the other under our own heads, which were laying on the side of the tub. It was 11:45, we were exhausted. We let her splash in her tubby for quite a while, until she started to finally act sleepy. We pulled her out, put her in a new, cooler pair of jammies, and gently played with her on the changing table. She cooed, she smiled. She was back to happy, amiable baby. But then we picked her up and carried her back to our room, where her bassinet is. She was okay. She acted hungry. It had been over two hours since her last feed, so I pulled out an utter and placed her in position. She started screaming worse than she had all night. I put away the utter, and tried to console her. No. I handed her back to Bryan, he tried to console her. No. Her scream had escalated from a scream of frustration, inconsolable crying, to a scream of pain. She looked and acted like she was physically in pain. I was certain we'd need call the pediatrician and take her to the hospital. I handed her back to Bryan; he was convinced she was okay, since she was fine in the bathtub, and didn't stat crying until we brought her back in our room. So he carried her into her own room, to see if that would make a difference. It did not. So he came back to our room and he layed down on the bed with her in his arms...something we had both tried earlier with no success, but this time it was magic. He layed on his back, and held her in his arm, snuggled up in the crook of his elbow. We gave her a paci, and this time, she didn't reject it. The two of them layed there for another hour, until she finally stopped crying, and then slowly, but surely, she drifted off to sleep. I left her alone for another 30 minutes, just for good measure, and then I lifted her out, and layed her down in her bed...she did not stir. I layed down next to my sleeping husband, and silently rejoiced. Apparently, not silently enough. She was screaming within 15 minutes. I picked her up and tried to console her. Bryan woke up and informed me that tonight was not the night to teach her to sleep on her own. He layed her back down next to him, and she went right back to sleep. Around 3am, when I knew she was really, really out, I layed her back in her bed, and she slept until 6. She's happy as a little clam today.

So excited I can hardly contain myself

Gig Harbor is moving on up, my friends. The bridge opened up and all sorts of fun has ensued. First, we got a fancy new YMCA with all sorts of pools, and gyms, and excercise opportunities. Then, a Costco- it should be open later this month. Then, I saw something that made my heart leap. In a new development in town, there is a Borders Books and a Galaxy 10 theatre going in! Wonder of all wonders- we're getting a new shopping center! They say it is being modeled after UVillage. I am so excited, I can barely contain myself. If you're not familiar with UVillage, let me tell you...they have Pottery Barn, and Williams Sonoma. They have Eddie Bauer and Gap. They have Ben and Jerry's! It's the perfect little yuppie haven, and I can't wait for it to come here! I'm sure this says something about me that does not bode well, but I don't care. A new shopping center! Woo hoo!

Crankiness abounds

Evie and I are both cranky today. All those weeks of "oh, she's such a nice, calm baby," have passed, and frankly, I am a little resentful. Last night was a whole new brand of fun. With the crying, and the kvetching, and the inability to go to sleep. From 3:00pm-1:00am, all she did was cry and kvetch, and arch her back etc. She had her 2-month appt. on tuesday, and everything was going fine and dandy. That was until the end of the appointment. At the end of the appointment, the nurse brought in a tray of shots, and all hell broke loose. Evie screamed bloody murder, and I am convinced that if she had the ability, she would have cursed the room blue. I cried a little (but tried my darndest to remain stoic) and we made our way to the car. "She may be a little fussy...go ahead and give her a little tylenol..." said the nice nurse with the big needles. Yes, well, let me introduce you to my daughter, who is 50% me...if not a little more. We don't let things go easily. We hold a grudge. We piss and moan, and we have a temper that is not easily quelled. You hurt us, we will make you SUFFER.
So that was Tuesday. Evie has yet to get over it. I was able to get her to sleep FINALLY at 1:00am this morning...this was the first time she had slept in many, many moons. She awoke at 5:30am, and has been up since. She's been demanding breast milk pretty much all day. I have fed her, burped her, held her, and layed her down. She immediately shoves her fist back in her mouth (her signal for food) and starts grunting, then yelling, then crying. I've let her cry it out a little. No dice. I've held her and rocked her some more. Nada. I've tried feeding her again...maybe she didn't get enough earlier. Still unhappy. She's currently in her swing, fist in mouth, making little grunting sounds. My nips are raw beyond belief. She needs to take a nap, and so do I.
Don't get me wrong, I love my little girl, andmy heart swells every time she looks at me out of the side of her eye and gives me a little half-cocked smile.
I feel awful that she feels awful. But she doesn't have a fever, I have administered her prilosec (for the reflux). I have held her, rocked her, layed her down, fed her, burped her, changed her diaper. I have given her various pacis, which she usually loves. She spits them out, and then pushes them away with her hand when you try to give them back. She remains disgruntled. So I've decided that she and I will just have to have some time by ourselves. She is secure in her swing, if she's still pissed, there's nothing more I can do.
Is it too early for a margarita? Oh wait, I'm breastfeeding...no tasty treats for me. Bummer.

Nature is to be protected from...

You may or may not have heard about a mountain biker being mauled by a bear over the weekend. If you didn't catch the news, and/or don't live in the greater-Seattle area, let me tell you; a man was mountain biking on a marked trail in a local park with his dogs, when a black bear charged from the woods and attacked him, doing some serious damage. As of 12:00 today, he was in serious condition.
This was the second bear attack in the area in two weeks, and in case you didn't know, the attacks happened less than 15 minutes from our house. Although wildlife officials and sheriff's deputies have been tracking the bear, and have set traps, the bear remains at large. This does not rest easy with us, who back up to a forested area and a creek-bed.
Although initial reports had claimed a mother bear and her cubs had been seen earlier in the day, and that she most likely was the attacker, the man who was mauled claims that the bear was in fact a male. Wildlife officials are currently on the hunt, and say they will have to kill the bear, if and when they find him.
So here's my question: how do they know which bear is the attacker? Will they stage a black bear line-up? Will they tranquilize every bear, and then do a DNA swab to find hair fibers? Do they have a composite sketch with which they will they question other woodland creatures? How does one go about tracking a rogue bear, in a land full of other bears?
Either way, until they find said bear, we will all be a bit nervous when we walk up our road, and check the mail. My neighbor girls are now paranoid every time a leaf rustles in the creek. Who knew that living in the ‘burbs could be so dangerous?

We didn't pose her...she did this herself.

Bryan and Evie were laying in our neighbor's hammock when my neighbor started laughing. I looked over, and grabbed my camera, since Evie had positioned herself like this..

On great-grandpa's knee