Graduation, and another Bird Attack

Avery "graduated" from pre-school yesterday. They had a nice little ceremony, and it was pretty darn cute. I was a little disappointed that they didn't throw their caps into the air, but the teachers probably knew that'd be trouble with a room full of 5 year olds.


I seem to remember dropping out of pre-school at some point. I guess Avery the first in the family to graduate pre-school, so naturally, we're quite proud. I'm not sure what the requirements were though, as far as credit hours and GPA and whatnot. If any of the children failed to graduate, it was kept pretty hush-hush.


In other news... I was attacked by another bird on my run today. That makes twice in the last four weeks. I've lived here and run or rode in the forest for more than ten years a,nd have never been attacked by a bird (or any other creature), until the last four weeks, when it's happened twice. It must be some kind of omen.

This time, I was running along, and I noticed three very cute little chicks near the edge of the logging rode. They scampered off clumsily as I jogged past. I couldn't help but slow down and smile, as it was sickeningly cute. I watched for a few moments, then looked up to find myself under attack by a large and PISSED OFF wild Turkey Mother bird.

Holy crap was it pissed! And big. And U-G-L-Y. It's hard to believe those cute little chicks would grow up into a beast like this. It lunged at me several times, but I managed to dodge it, and eventually grab a big stick with which to keep out of striking distance, while I carefully and quickly worked my way around it.

Later on at home I was mowing the lawn, and noticed the chairs near the bird feeder are *covered* in bird crap. Freakin' birds!

I made eggs for dinner. I felt better after that.

Mac Forest 50k

First off, I should apologize to everybody who had to listen to me whine yesterday. I set a PR for whining, for sure. Considering I finished under my target time, all that whining probably wasn't called for. But man, it was a struggle!

I was pretty concerned going into the race, as my resting heart rate was about 10 BPM higher than normal, perhaps because I was still recovering from the flu, and/or hadn't fully recovered from the race four weeks ago, and some hard training a couple weeks ago. Resting heart rate is usually a pretty good indicator of how recovered you are - mine was telling me to rest.

The race started at 8:00. I felt pretty good for the first couple, mostly flat miles. There was a super speedy group that blew off the front right away. I had no intention of trying to chase those guys, but I was probably in the top 10 to start off.

After a couple miles, the course heads up the first real climb - about 600 feet up, in a mile or so. Near the top of this I was already starting to struggle. I didn't feel like I was pushing the pace - and in fact I was getting passed quite a bit - but my heart rate was in the upper 170's, hitting 178 BPM at one point. Whoa. My heart rate NEVER gets this high - not even during hard training intervals. I think my absolute max heartrate is around 182 or so. So hitting 178 early in a race was just crazy. And frustrating, as I certainly wasn't blasting up the hill. Near the top I was reduced to a power hike, trying to get my HR back down. I was already starting to reconsider my goals for the race, wondering if I just didn't have it today, and whining a lot. :-)

Thankfully, after the hill crests, there's a long, gentle downhill, then a few miles of relatively easy rolling terrain, all the way to the first aid station. My legs felt great in this section, my heart rate came back under control, and I came back to life. I made it out of the aid station 57 minutes. Right on my target pace.

Out of the aid station, there's a modest up-hill for about 3/4 mile, then a steep, brutal downhill on a gravel road. This downhill is a leg killer! But again, I felt pretty strong going down, with fresh legs and good turnover. I was able to catch quite a few people who'd caught me on the climb. I realized already that climbing would be a struggle, and I'd have to try to make up time on the downhills.

The road bottomed out near Sulpher Springs, and began a tough climb up the road and into the "maze" section of trails. Once again, I struggled badly going up, and got passed a lot. I made a point of walking every time my heart rate hit 170, which was often. Even walking, it stayed high, and I was suffering. And whining. I was seriously doubting I had any chance at sub 5 hours, and in fact was just trying to avoid thinking of quitting outright. I kept going by telling myself I'd have to back off - make it just a training run, relax, and try to enjoy it. So I slogged up to the top of the climb, and tried to relax for the drop down Extendo trail to the 2nd aid station. Even going down at this point was tough, as I was pretty drained. At the bottom were Avery and Jasmine. I was going to explain the I might be pretty late getting the Chip Ross (where they planned to meet me next), but my entire explanation came out as: "I'm feeling Sh#tty!". (Avery later asked Jasmine: "Mommy, _how_ is Daddy feeling?")

I took a fair amount of time at the aid station. I was surprised that I was a couple minutes ahead of my target splits for a 5 hour finish. But I was writing off 5 hours anyway at this point. I headed out, slowly, from the aid station for the next climb. A bunch of people passed me here, including William, Penny, Mike Burke, and others. My only consolation was that I was still passing early starters. I ran slowly, and even occasionally walked, up the road and Up-route trail. I started to feel a bit better, resigned to take it easy for a while, not worrying, for the moment, about my finish time. Dropping back down into the maze, I tried to relax and not over-do the tricky downhill. Most of the up-hills in this part of the maze I'd be walking regardless, which was probably good at this point, as it wasn't quite so demoralizing. Though I continued to whine to anybody who would listen.

I came out of the maze and saw Scott Leonard (co race director), and whined a bit more to him. From here it was about 1.5 miles, up a moderate slope, to the aid station atop Dimple Hill. I'd been dreading this climb, given how I'd been feeling. Jeff Phillips, from Seattle, passed me at the bottom, and I decided to at least break into a run again, and see what happened. This was definitely a turning point for me, as I was rather shocked to realize I could run, and keep a fair pace, up this hill. My heart rate settle in at about 167 BPM for this climb, and I felt comfortable. I managed to stay close to Jeff all the way to Dimple. I got into the aid station at 2:57 - still two minutes ahead of my target split, and amazingly feeling better. I'd made up some time on the last climb, and now I had a long downhill. Last year I think I hit this aid station at 2:55, on the way to a 5:03 finish. But I'd really fallen apart after Dimple hill last year, so I knew if I held it together and continued to feel better, I still had a shot at 5:00. Game on!

My friend Chris and a slew of other Corvallis Mountain rescue folks were working the Dimple aid station. They were in "Braveheart" them - face paint, kilts, etc. I didn't actually notice the kilts at the time - I must've been pretty out-of-it. They offered my Haggis and Scotch. I declined both, though the Scotch was pretty tempting.

Somewhere out of the aid station, Jeff mentioned 5 hours as well. For the rest of the race we traded spots, and encouraged and pushed each other, both pushing for a sub 5 hour finish. I pushed as hard as I could down Dan's trail, and up and over Chip Ross. I felt OK, though not great, going back up. It was good to see Jasmine and Avery again atop the hill at Chip Ross. It's a beatiful spot, and close enough to the finish (9 or 10 miles) to start thinking ahead.

At the aid station I heard someone say "hey, no falls yet!". Must be Meghan A. Yep. :-)
I kept it brief at the aid station, and hiked up the first steep section out of Chip Ross, and kept it quick, but controlled, down lower Dan's and over to lower Horse Trail. I passed Drew Breynton at this point. I'd seen him take off at breakneck pace early in the race, trying to keep up with the leaders. He was paying the price for that now. I talked to him later, at the finish, and he said he figured he'd give it a try, see what happens. Gotta respect that.

Going up Horse Trail is a tough climb. By this point I was constantly checking my watch, trying to stay on a 5 hour pace. I figured if I could get to Lewisberg Saddle by 4:15, I could make it. 4:20 Would probably be too late. 4:15 probably meant topping out from Horse at 4:05, which is exactly when I made it. (I know these trails way too well, and can figure out sub-splits on the fly in crazy detail). Again I pushed it on the flat and downhill section to Lewisberg. Though by this point, even the downs were tough, and I was starting to cramp up a bit. I moved by Jeff again in this section, and we agreed we were still on pace for sub 5:00.

I kept it brief at the aid station, but was sure to down another gel and 1/2 fill both water bottles. Jeff and I left the aid station right at 4:15, crossed the road and began the 1.5 mile climb to the top of the Nettleton road. I knew this climb was the make-or-break moment for sub-5:00. After the climb, it was almost all a gentle downhill to the finish. If I could keep a good pace on the climb, and get to the turn off to the section 36 trail by4:45 or so (30 minutes for the section), we'd have it in the bag. I run this section a lot in training. It takes about 30 minutes at a modest pace when I'm fresh - about 17 minutes to the top, and 13 across and down to the far end. Going up today was tough, but I was seriously motivated to keep pushing. Jeff and I stayed pretty close at this point - not much talking, lots of suffering. We topped out right at about 17 minutes. Cool. Looking good. The next section is easy - a nice, gentle downhill. I cruised this section pretty well, and got the the Section 36 trail at 4:44. From there it's a short, steep climb, then a steep, winding downhill trail to the finish, with only a couple very short ups. I ran and hiked up, checked my watch, and knew I'd make 5 hours.

The last downhill hurt - my legs were cramping, and were generally thrashed from pushing the downhills all day. I was a bit tentative, as I was worried about falling. I knew I had a minute or two to spare, so I chose caution over speed. Jeff caught and passed me near the end. No worries - I was only thinking 5 hours, not thinking place, at this point. The last few minutes seemed to take forever, but finally I heard the music coming from the finish, and passed someone calling in numbers on a walkie-talkie or something. I came in just under 4:58. Who-hoo!

I found Jeff at the finish line, and we congratulated each other. We'd both been pushing hard for the last two hours, and to make it with barely two minutes to spare felt pretty great.

I came in 20th overall. My best finish at the Mac. It was a struggle for sure - I certainly didn't feel my best, but I'm pretty stoked about making my goal - probably more so for the struggle that it was.

Lots of pictures here: http://picasaweb.google.com/mtnahorniak/MacForest50k2008

Numbers and Words

Just two days until “The Mac” (http://www.mac.oregontrailseries.org/). I just checked the website, and was surprised (and flattered ) at the fact that I’m listed with bib #9. The first 30 bib numbers are assigned based on some in-decipherable code, by the race directors, to people who, I guess, have done well or are expected to do well in the Saturday’s race. #’s 1-20 are for men, #21-30 for women. Last year’s male and female winners are #1 and #21, respectively. Not sure how the other numbers were picked – I sure didn’t finish 9th last year, and people who finished ahead of me last year have lower numbers than I. Oh, the pressure! I’ll do my best to drag my low #, and my inflated ego, up and down the hills on Saturday.

The other good news is that I’m starting to feel almost healthy. I’m mostly over the cold and/or flu from last week. The stuff running from my nose is turning from a sickly yellow color to a lovely clear color. I think that’s a good sign. My resting pulse is still a bit elevated, but it seems to be slowly working its way back to normal. Yes, I keep track of this stuff. Last year my resting heart rate was really high before the Mac, and I did OK. Except for, you know, the pneumonia. So I’m still a bit worried. But since last year’s Mac, I _always_ get worried about pneumonia, or some other ailment, before every race. It’s part of my pre-race ritual. Usually I end up at the doctors insisting they listen to my lungs or take a chest x-ray or something. They must think I’m a wuss. I’m feeling good enough this time though that I’ll skip the Dr. this time.

I’m also obsessing about what pair of shoes to wear. As if my feet won’t be tired, blistered, and bloodied regardless. Should I wear the ones that give me blisters on the toes, or the ones that give me blisters on the balls of my feet?

Yep, should be fun.

In other news: Avery is 5 ½ today. Apparently ½ birthdays are pretty big these days. I told her I couldn’t remember ever turning anything-and-a-half in my whole life. This seemed to surprise her. I think she was kind of hoping for a party or present or something, but she settled for getting to choose what was for dinner instead. Actually, she only got to choose half of what was for dinner.

Incidentally, I turn 36 ½ tomorrow.

Evil Bird, and other Assorted Nonsense

I was lying on the couch flipping through the channels when I came across professional bull riding. Avery took notice, and we watched several bull riders do their thing. Avery has since developed a game where she sits on one of those big exercise balls, bounces up and down, pretending she’s bull riding. She even dons her new pink cowgirl hat. At one point she expanded the sport to include not only make-believe bulls, but also rhinoceroses, dinosaurs, and my personal favorite: sharks-on-wheels. Avery currently holds the world record for riding a great white shark-on-wheels.

This morning, on the drive to pre-school, Avery asked me “Daddy, when you die, can you still think?” I hadn't had my coffee yet. I couldn't think without it. I don't think I can expect much when I'm dead.

Avery's kind of a goodie-goodie when it comes to following rules, etc. That's great, but I kind've want her to develop a bit of a healthy distrust of authority. So I told her I'd give her a dollar if she asked her teacher if everything she's ever been taught is a lie. Jasmine didn't think it was such a great idea, but I think it'd be pretty funny.

Saturday I was out running, and stopped for a quick break at the top of a long hill. I noticed a big bird in a nearby tree. The bird hopped down and casually walked over to me. I think it was a grouse. At first the bird just sort of walked back & forth, chirping or gobbling, or whatever it is these birds do (grousing?). I wasn’t sure what it’s intentions were – casual small talk, territorial defense, or perhaps an amorous advance? After a minute it started getting a bit too aggressive for my liking, so I backed away a bit. I figured it was defending a nest, and I didn’t want to be a bother. But the more I backed away, the more aggressive the bird became. I kicked a bit of gravel toward it (carefully, not wanting to actually hurt the bird) and it only got nastier. I grabbed a branch with fir needles on it, and tried to sweep the bird away. I just cursed at me, and kept coming.
At this point I should point out that the bird’s beak was uncomfortably close to crotch height, causing my internal “fight or flight” instinct to kick in. Now, I’m reasonably sure that if it came down to it, I could win out in a fair fight with a grouse – but because I didn’t want to hurt the bird (or perhaps it was cowardice), I decided against fighting. I ran. The bird chased, on foot. That damn bird chased me a good 50 yards down the road before slowing up. It continued give an evil glare, while I put some more distance between me, the bird, and my dignity.
Postscript: The next day I mentioned the bird attack to my buddy Tim. “Was it right at…” and he goes on to name the exact location. Apparently he’s been assaulted by the very same bird, and is aware of others. So if you’re up in Mac Forest, where the 6021 road tops out on the ridge (just south of the bottom of the South Ridge trail), beware of the evil bird.

This week I've been sick. Monday night I developed a fever, and spend the night and much of Tuesday shivering. Wednesday I felt better and was back at work. Wednesday night it turned into a head cold. I went to work Thursday, but by mid-day it had blossomed into the worst head cold I can remember, and my co-workers insisted I take my germs home. It's Friday evening now, and finally I'm starting to feel better. I havn't run all week - this is probably the longest I've gone without running since nearly a year ago when I had pneumonia. I can't stand it! But hopefully I'll be well rested and well recovered for next Saturdays race (the Mac Forest 50k). The longer I go without running, the more I'm stoked to try to run that one as fast as possible, and break the 5:00 mark. Wish me luck.

Avery had her friend Abbie over this past wednesday. Jasmine keeping an eye on them. After some intense giggling, Jasmine asked what they were up to. "Mom!" Avery said. "We've come up with a really fun game! We're pretending our mommies and daddies are DEAD and we get to stay up AS LATE AS WE WANT!!!". Lovely. :-)

Rumble Pics

Jasmine's Rumble Pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/mtnahorniak/PetersonRidgeRumble2008.
If anyone has a favorite (or a few faves) and wants a full sized pic, let me know, and I'll be happy to send it on. :-)

Peterson Ridge Rumble!

On Sunday I ran the Peterson Ridge Rumble 60k in and around Sisters, Oregon. http://www.fleetfeetbend.com/rumble/index.html) It’s hosted by the speeder ultra runner and all around nice guy Sean Meissner (http://sascharuns.blogspot.com/).

Up until the morning of the race, I was still waffling on whether to run hard, or take it easy and treat it purely as a training run. I hadn’t planned on making this a “target” race, so I hadn’t tapered much for it, but I had tapered some (some of it a “forced” taper as I was only able to get in minimal running for the week Jasmine was in Thailand). And last Monday I managed to sprain an ankle a bit – if felt OK but it was pretty swollen for a couple days. And on Friday prior we’d taken Avery sledding and snow-tubing at Santiam pass, and I managed to wear myself out a bit hiking up the hill and, more-so, building a snow-cave and tunnel with Avery. For the snow cave I spend way too much time kicking away at the snow, and afterwards I discovered I’d managed to over-stress something in both shins in the process, and found myself hobbling around a bit. But at least it was a great snow cave - well worth any injury. I know.... whine, whine, whine!

(Speaking of whining, Jasmine, in a search for sympathy, wants me to include the fact that she suffered a rather debilitating injury while sledding. The injury is to her “bum”, as they call it in the Queen’s English. She’s been sitting on an ice pack or a donut shaped pillow ever since.)

So I wasn’t feeling overly rested, but I have been feeling great running lately, and putting in lots of training miles. The morning of the race I was walking from our hotel over to the start (letting Avery and Jas sleep a bit longer). It was a perfect morning, I was feeling good, so I decided I might as well run as hard as I could. Plus, the course was shortened due to heavy snow-pack from 38+ miles to a mere 34. For some reason 34 miles seemed a lot easier than 38, so what the heck.

I had very little idea what to expect from the course, other than it was considered “runnable” except for a short “grunt” section. The start was pretty flat, on easy trail. There was a group of 5, I think, that took off in front setting the pace. Another pair of runners followed closely behind, and I settled in not too far back from them. The pace was really fast for me, but the course so far was easy, and it felt good.

We crossed a bridge, then crossed a paved road, and then got onto a long, flat, straight stretch on a dirt road. Finally we came to a right turn back onto a trail, and arrived at the first aid station. I still had water in my bottles, but grabbed a couple gels for my pockets, and downed a few M&Ms.

The next section followed a trail along a creek. I’m sure it was lovely, but I was focused mostly on the trail, and trying to keep up the pace with the pair of runners ahead of me. Eventually we crossed the creeks, and the trail started rolling a bit, mostly up-hill, but pretty gradually, and it was all runnable. I could occasionally hear female voices from behind, sounding way too casual for such a quick pace.

I passed the 2nd aid station, filled up with water and electrolyte drink, and grabbed a couple more gels. Soon after, I came across Jasmine and Avery, taking photos at a sunny section, with a great view of North Sister. The 2nd aid station also served as the 4th aid station, so I’d next see them right there on the return. I tossed my gloves to Avery and kept going. It was already getting pretty warm.

It didn’t take long to get to “water only” aid station 3a. I still had water, so I kept on going. The next section was the “snow-shortened” section, so instead of 6-7 miles, we’d be looping back to the same aid station “3b” in just a couple miles, so I didn’t stop. By this point, I was running in a pack of four runners. The guy I’d been following for a while was Justin Angle – who’d I normally have no business keeping up with, but he was just coming off an impressive 100 mile run, and he wasn’t exactly racing today. Stan Holman (former Hagg lake 50k course record holder) from Washington was with us, and Kami Semick, star ultra runner and all-around outdoor athlete extraordinaire from Bend, was setting the pace. It was exciting to find myself in this group, though it made me worry that I was over-reaching, pace-wise.

I managed to take a spill here at one point. No injuries, but I got pretty dirty. I felt bad that Stan stopped to make sure I was OK – I didn’t want to slow anyone down. I got up as quickly as I could and caught back up to the group.

After a bit of easy climbing along a gentle ridge, we dropped down into a canyon. Here there was some snow on the trail, and some serious ice in one or two sections. I’d fallen a bit behind the group prior to the ice, but I managed to run down the ice section pretty fast (it reminded me of heading down the hill from the rec-center to the dorm at Michigan Tech back in the day, where the sidewalk was always a sheet of ice), catch up, and slide past the more cautious runners. Soon after the ice section was the “grunt” – a steep, loose climb straight up back out of the canyon. No running here. Just hiking it hard left me pretty knackered by the top, although it was only a few minutes long.

Back at water-only aid station (“3b”) I filled a water bottle and kept going. I was really trying to stay on top of eating and drinking and I think it paid off later in the day. From 3b, it didn’t take long to get back to aid station 4, where Jas and Avery were still waiting. Avery had on her new pink cow-girl hat. Very cute. J

From AS4, it was mostly downhill trail to AS5. Coming up the other way on this section were lots of 30k runners, many with their dogs. (Dogs were allowed in the 30k race). It was occasionally “exciting” to run past runners and dogs, at high speed (going downhill) on a narrow trail.

By this time the runners had spread out a bit. Kami was well ahead, running with another woman who had caught and passed me, as were Stan and another runner that had caught our group. I think Justin stopped back at an aid station. At one point Stan and the other guy appeared to take a wrong turn. They were pretty far ahead, but I could still see them. I stopped at the intersection – they were following a very rough looking “unofficial” trail, while the main trail turned to the right. I started following them for a second, but stopped, and some early starters caught up from behind and agreed the right turn had to be correct. I shouted – not sure if they heard or not. The early starters started shouting, so I kept going. (I found out later from the other guy (not Stan) that he lost about 4 minutes on the wrong turn. He caught back up and passed me 5 or 6 miles later). I was relieved to see a yellow ribbon soon after, indicating I was on the right trail.

I reached the next aid station, and then re-joined the long, straight road that we’d come up earlier. Except, I think it gad grown longer for the 2nd time along. This was about 20 miles into the race. It was strange being able to see so far – I think it was Kami ahead of me, probably by 1/4 mile or so. After a long slog, I finally crossed a road, then a bridge over a creek, and turned back onto a single track trail. This section followed a creek for a while, and then meandered through the woods. I was running alone by this point, trying my best to stay focused and keep pushing, while saving a bit for the last few miles.
Eventually the course dumped back onto gravel road. A volunteer made sure I made the correct left turn, and informed me that it was 2.3 miles to the next aid station. What he didn’t tell me was that it was almost all up-hill, and almost all fully exposed to the sun. So it was a long 2.3 miles, but a good 2.3 miles. The hill let me change my pace and cadence enough that it felt good on my legs, and I was able to run the whole thing (except for a few quick walking breaks to drink and down a gel). Occasionally the hill appeared to crest, only to start climbing again around a corner. But it was all pretty gradual and runnable. I was passed once in this section by one of the guys who’d taken the wrong turn earlier. He was running strong. A few minutes later I passed a runner who was walking up the hill. He said he’d tweaked his ankle pretty good. I offered some Advil, but he said he was OK to keep going without. I pulled away, and with about 9 miles to go I was running alone again. I didn’t pass, or get passed, by another runner for the rest of the race.

Aid station 6 finally appeared. I refilled both bottles, grabbed a couple more gels, downed some food, and started off again on a single track trail. From this point on, it was mostly downhill to the finish, though there were a couple rollers that involved some uphill running. I figured I’d run conservatively for the next two miles, then try to push it a bit for the last 6 miles or so, if I had any gas left. 15 or 20 minutes out from the aid station I downed another gel, struggled up a warm, sunny uphill section, then tried to push it for a while. This part of the course was stunning – narrow single track meandering through a wide open hilltop, with views up and down the Cascade volcanoes. I made note to come back some day and hike this area in order to soak up the view – for the moment I tried to keep my eyes on the trail. I passed photographer in this section (I’m looking forward to that picture), then a kid out hiking with his family who assured me I was near the next aid station… finally back into the trees, and into the aid station where Jas and Avery were waiting.

I refilled both bottles again, ate a gel, and asked what place I was in. They weren’t sure, but thought “definitely top 10”. I was pretty excited at the prospect of a top 10 finish, and I definitely didn’t want to lose it on the last 4.2 mile leg to the finish. Also I knew I had a shot at a sub 4:30 time, especially if it were indeed mostly downhill to the finish. I took off determined to run hard, though I was struggling a bit at this point. For the next 15 or 20 minutes I tried not to think of the finish or count down the miles, but rather just keep a steady pace. There was one modest uphill section. I power hiked a bit while drinking some, and pouring as much water as I could over my head. I also started looking over my shoulder quite a bit, wary of getting passed. Before long there was a nice, gentle downhill, and I was able to run it pretty fast. A long straight section let me see that there was nobody within several hundred yards behind me (or in front), so I felt pretty confident my place was set. I started focusing on getting in by 4:30. A sign said 1 ¾ miles to Sisters. The finish line was at least ½ mile before Sisters, so I figured I had at most 1 to 1 ¼ miles left. My watch read 4:18. The trail was still a gentle downhill, so I kept running hard. Sooner than I expected, I saw the road in front of the middle school (where the race finished), and I knew sub-4:30 was in the bag. I crossed the road, meandered through the parking lot, and entered the track, where the finish line was still about a half lap around the track. Avery joined me for the last bit on the track, and held my hand across the finish line. I came in just under 4:27. 8th place! Whoo Hoo!

Next up is our “hometown” race – the Mac forest 50k, just four short weeks away. I’m hoping to break five hours, as last year I missed that mark by just three minutes. Hopefully I can recover fast from yesterday’s run, get in a week or two of solid training, and leave time for a decent taper. After the Mac 50k, I’ve got 10 weeks until the Tahoe Rim trail 100 – my first 100 miler!

Special Moment in Parenting