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This month's phobia-crushing adventure was one of opportunity. The three of us were over at Susan's house to take pictures of the kids together (coming soon) and during lunch the kids were having some red peppers. I decided to join them.

Preparation: Raw!

1. Cut off the parts you're not supposed to eat.
2. Nom.

Thoughts: Not anywhere near as spicy as I thought it would be, based on its smell. For years I've assumed it was spicy because of that burning sensation when I can smell it. I like spicy food, but despite that, I was still afraid to eat peppers. That by itself made the experience weird… food that smells burny but tastes sweet? Interesting… I'm glad I tried it, but don't expect me to reach for it on your veggie tray — unless you have amazing dip and I can't find any other vessel with which to shove it into my mouth.

I didn't choke, gag, vomit, or even find the taste disagreeable. But I didn't find it agreeable, either. Just not my cup o tea. (I also don't like tea.)

When Dylan was born I decided that if possible, we would discourage thumb sucking. Not for any other reason than it can be a tough vice for kids to get past, and if we can avoid it, why not?

In the last week, Dylan has started locating and sucking his thumb. Sometimes he just sucks his entire fist, and the best we can guess is that he gave up on trying to find just the thumb and took what he could get. When we watch him find and start sucking on his thumb, my heart melts; and we both immediately agreed it is adorable (for now!), but we couldn't figure out why.

I think I've finally figured it out. With the exception of lifting his head during Tummy Time or standing — which he has been doing for several weeks now, with some assistance getting started and with balancing; but are both sort of reflexive, which is why I'm excepting them — this is the first thing we can tell he's doing intentionally, by choice. He's still not really fully aware of his hands: He's not reaching or grabbing… but it's obvious when you watch him that he wants to put his thumb/hand in his mouth and he's happy when he accomplishes that goal.

So I think we'll continue to allow it, for as long as it continues to be adorable, anyway.

The first (and last) time I went ice skating was when my mom took my brothers and I up to visit her parents. If memory serves, this was shortly after I got my driver's license — because I remember my brothers and I getting restless so mom gave me the car keys and a few bucks and sent us off to the skating rink to blow off some steam.

We were there for maybe five to ten minutes before I tripped over some little kid and landed on my chin. I didn't think much of it at the time. Sure, it hurt, but I've felt much worse. I got back up and started skating around again.

About the time we made it a full lap, back to where I fell, I noticed that there were blood drops on the ice. Someone was bleeding! As it turns out, it was me. (I gave my brothers a good bit of grief for not telling me my face was bleeding…) The pressure from the fall had popped a hole in my skin. So we went off to the ER where I got superglue and a butterfly, or something along that line.

A few days ago Megan and I were talking about something — I have no idea what — but somehow we ended up talking about ice skating. I told her this story, and that I hadn't been ice skating since. (For the record: Only for lack of opportunity… not because I was scared to.) She took this idea and ran with it. She decided to surprise me with an afternoon date on Valentines day; arranged to have Susan take care of Dylan, and sneakily packed a bag with my gloves and hat and an extra shirt so that she didn't have to give away where we were going.

It was a great surprise and we both had a lot of fun. I hope we get to go skating again soon, and often. Here's a 10 second video I took with my phone on the ice.