Quick Run

I love old lady magazines.

I really don't know why.

A lot of my friends prefer People or US.

I'd much rather tuck into a new issue of Better Homes and Gardens.

Recently, I had an offer for a free year of Family Circle, which is kind of a waiting room magazine to me.  Something you used to read in the doctor's office before your cell phone brought you so many more options for spending time while waiting.

I was thumbing through the latest issue of Family Circle and this popped out at me.

It motivated me.

Often I'll feel like I need to make it worth my while if I'm going to head out to execize.

This feels do-able to me.

Who can't jog for 5 minutes?  Nice and slow and easy til you build it up.  Or even a fast walk?

It makes me not try to carve out 2 hours for exercise and more willing to squeeze it in.

You're welcome:)

Truth or Dare

Today Carl raced in the regional portion of the Junior Olympics for cross country.

Running the 3000 meter (1.8mi) for the second time in Seattle at Lower Woodland Park.

I'm so proud of him for trying a new sport this season and for doing amazingly well.

Coming up on the finish line

(Un)fortunately his team didn't place to advance to nationals-in South Carolina.

Thank goodness we don't have to tell him we aren't willing to make the stretch to send him that far 2 weeks before Christmas.

But super bummed for the kids who wait all year for cross country season and won't be advancing.

Anyway, it was a nice morning watching the activity around such a big event.

Cheering on our buddy.

And hitting our favorite hamburger place, Red Mill on Phinney (our old stomping grounds-I used to live on 48th & Phinney).

On the drive home, as we cruised down Hwy 99 past the Ferris Wheel Carl was playing Truth or Dare off his Ipad.

It was Mark's turn.

He selected truth.

The question:

"What's more important to you; personality or good looks?"

Mark knew he was in a tough spot but answered,

"Personality."

Without a pause Carl blurted out,

"Then why'd you marry mom?!"

Huh.

Is that offensive or meant as a compliment.

I'm not really sure.

I asked him if he knew what personality meant.

He sure as heck did,

he described it to a T.

And he didn't think there was a thing wrong about his question.

While I'm flattered he thinks I have "good looks" I also want him to value personality over looks.

And I'll be honest, I sure do wish he thought I had a good personality.

Out of the mouths of  babes...

A Blip of Time Inside My Befuddled Mind

I'm not writing this because I think I'm exceptional. 

Or that this is radically different from anyone else. 

I write this because I've been re-reading some of my older posts and marveling how different life is as the kids get older and more self sufficient.

Usually I cringe as I read what I've written in the past (I won't go near my senior thesis from Whitman and am thankful my graduate thesis was a now defunct website {historichome.com}).

I usually feel I could have written better with my advanced current wisdom (ha!).

But I've been enjoying re-living the insanity of those days.

Many of the events I had already forgotten.

So, this post (and there just might be more of these) is to share with myself and kids the tornado inside my head as I struggle through the logistics of our beautiful crazy, busy family life.

So now, without a further adieu:

A bit of time inside my befuddled mind

Charlie and Elsa run off the bus.

Figure out snacks.

Help with homework.

Elsa read one sheet once.

Elsa read another sheet 3 times.

Elsa math worksheet.

Elsa science sheet.

Charlie starts cutting up math flashcards.

Charlie asking why he has to go to Sarina's basketball game.

Us  explaining he gets to go.

Charlie proposing all kinds of other places he can go instead.

Many emails trying to pin down a meeting time for a new (work) contract- for me.

Waiting on contract in the mail.

Cancel existing apt to replace with meeting now scheduled for new contract.

Try not to think about packing and preparing food for next week.

Many, many texts trying to figure out how to get Carl from archery (after school activity) to cross country practice (his last before his regional Junior Olympics 1.8mi race on Saturday).

Realize there's no possible way to get him to practice, Mark with Charlie and Elsa to Sarina's game, and me off to work.

Scratch Carl going to cross country.

Figure out exactly when Sarina is playing basketball in Tumwater.

Find out she's playing 1 quarter varsity and 3 quarters JV.

Try to reason through the advantages of 1/2" concrete versus 3/4" concrete for Mark's massive outdoor table project.

Try to figure out what temp to put the lasagna in the oven when we're all out of the  house a couple of hours between when it goes into the oven and when someone will be there to eat it.  (The instructions say 45 min at 350-I put it in at 280 at 4pm- fingers crossed it's not a big cracker by 6).

Get everyone out the door.

Tidy all the after school papers scattered EVERYWHERE.

Switch the wash.

Figure out if I should wear new CAbi coat with red silk scarf or pretty pink sweater with grandma's broach with my new very subtle camo pants for work. 

Change my mind (and clothes) 2 times.

Gather all my stuff for my work meeting.

Stop to grab the mail on my way out.

Got a new contract for work (yay!)

Mental note to review that contract and file tonight.

Talk to mom on the drive.

Text Sarina's friend's mom about the friend coming home with Sarina after the game to work on a school project.

Stop to pick up 4 very large and heavy moving blankets for Mark plus a 1,000lb hydraulic cart from a store in Lacey on my way to work.

Talk to mom.

Discuss coordinating outfits for pictures next week (mind  overload).

Try to remember the name of Mark's recently retired co-worker for mom.

Blank.

I can picture him clear as day and tell you all kinds of things about him

Still no name.

Stop for coffee on my way into Steilacoom.

Text a bit with Mark about picking up goods for him (he was sweetly grateful).

Decide to write a blog about all the random shit in my brain.

Remember Mark's co-worker's name.

Ponder new fences that have gone up in the community where I work.

Not pleased.

Call mom to tell her name of the co-worker before I forget again.

Open up the building for my meeting.

Email new board member about meeting prior to meeting.

Get text that Carl can't practice tomorrow for the Junior Olympics-his little body needs two days of rest before the race.

Damn, I probably should have known that.

Now he won't get any practice.

Guilt lurking in the back of my mind all night - could I have worked the logistics better?

Realize Mark needs something on the computer I brought with me to work.

Text him picture of the screen hoping it will suffice for tonight.

Type this up.

Now I have 15 minutes to prep for my pre-meeting meeting.

And this is all just within less than 2 hour time-span.

Privacy in the Bathroom

I'll try to keep it PG rated.

Elsa's comments are not PG rated.

Yesterday I overheard the three younger kids talking about seeing me without my clothes on.

I won't share Elsa's comments but Charlie's response was,

"Really?

All I look at is the boobs."

Nice.

Carl said, "I just look at her face."

Bless him.

Even if he isn't telling the truth.

I just might need to lock the door at shower time from now on..?

I missed you

This weekend Elsa got to have a sleepover at her grandparents house with her cousin.

As I tucked her in the next night I snuggled her close and told her how much I'd missed her.

Clear as day, she responded in a surprised voice,

"Really?! 

Cause I forgot about you."

Ouch.

Thanks.

It's a good thing, I know.

But forgot about me?

I'm going to interpret that as she wasn't homesick and pining for me...

Yup, I know that's exactly what she meant.

"Charlie the Poop"

Sometimes Charlie can get a bit moody.

Ok, really moody.

Tonight seemed to be the night.

Not sure the trigger,

Possibly that he didn't get to play at the creek as long as he wanted to when Mark took the kids down to see the salmon spawning.

Maybe it was because he picked them up a little early from school so they could go looking for deer.

Regardless, as I was cleaning the kitchen and not catering to him, he looked at me with his big eyes smoldering.

"I should write a book."  He spat.

"You know what I'll call it?"  He continued.

"Charlie the Poop."  He answered himself.

"It's about a kid named Charlie, whose parents treat him like poop."

Poor buddy.

Every kid should have parents who treat them like poop the way we treat Charlie.

Please Lord let him learn to see what's really happening around him rather than getting so caught up  in his emotions that he thinks the world is against him.

I will admit.

That one did make me laugh a little bit.

Of course I had to sing the song my dad used to sing to me whenever I threw myself a pity party.

"Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, think I'll eat some worms..."

He wasn't impressed.

I'm Important

I don't know why.

But sometimes I ask my kids weird questions.

Or questions that seem pretty obvious,

just to hear what they'll say.

Last night I looked at Elsa snuggled in her bed,

holding Goofy,

fresh from her bath

with her hair in two neat, little braids.

I asked her why she was so special.

Her eyes lit up as she straightened up and answered,

"I know!

Because I'm important!"

Amen sister.

You are so, very important indeed.

It's Not All About Me

Last week I ran into a parent of one of my kids' close friends.

This person was pretty cold in their greeting towards me.

I'm ashamed to say that my first thought was about myself.

Had I done something to offend them?

Were our kids not getting along?

What did we do?

I now know that this person, who we adore, recently lost their job.

It's a moment I wish I could go back to and do-over.

I wish I would have reached out and asked if everything was ok.

I wish I would have approached our encounter with compassion rather than on the defense.

It's a strong reminder that it really isn't all about me.

Far too often I'm self conscious.

I need to remember to just be myself and not worry what others are thinking.

I can't control other people's thoughts.

But I can control my reactions to them.

I need to remember that everyone needs a little bit of compassion and warmth

and those are easy things to give.

It's a good reminder that the world does not revolve around me.

You never know what battles your neighbors might be fighting, be gentle,

I know I'll sure try harder.

Summer of the Swedish Pancake

When it comes to food, summer really kind of sucks.

Not because there isn't an abundance of delicious food.

I LOVE salads, and love making them out of anything and everything.

And of course, summer is the perfect time for that.

But, it's really staggering the amount of time dedicated to the preparation, serving, and cleaning up of three meals a day for six very different appetites.

No, I don't cater every meal to meet each appetite but that doesn't mean I don't end up tweaking each meal to make it palatable for the person eating it.

I do remind myself that there will be a day when each person can do that type of tweaking without me having to do it all.

And that day is rapidly approaching.

Sarina already does it.

Carl is super close.

Charlie and Elsa will follow pretty quickly behind.

Here's the precious babes the last day of their first ever Summer Hummer
(not the best pic but it's the only one of all four without an extra kiddo this summer).

And yes, the kids are taking a bigger and bigger role in helping me.

But, truth be told, breakfast is my least favorite meal

because there's really no salad, except fruit, for breakfast.

And because I'm a terrible morning person,

especially when hungry little ogres are desperate for food.

But this summer I've made more Swedish Pancakes than I can count.

I'd always wanted to tackle crepes-probably because I LOVED the crepes in Paris sold outside the bars in a food truck type stand.

They were buttery and sugary and delicious.

Ok I only had one but it was memorable!

As memorable as the drunk American girl who barfed everywhere in the bar and taxi her friends sent her home in.

Nasty.

Anyway...

The kids always talk about the Swedish Pancakes nonna makes them after sleepovers.

This summer, we stayed with my sister-in-law while Carl went to the TBI baseball camp in Ellensburg and she made them for the kids.

I actually enjoyed making this breakfast food.

I'll share the recipe with you.

The original is the America's Test Kitchen Crepe which I've adapted for our family.  There are actually a few recipes in that cookbook that I really like-cream scones is one.

Swedish Pancakes Schreck Style

1 cup 1% milk
1 cup heavy whipping cream
2 cups unbleached all purpose flour
4 large eggs
3/4 c water
6 T butter melted
1 t salt
2 t vanilla

I mix it all up with my immersion blender.

You can use the batter right away or keep in the refrigerator for up to 2 days.

Then I lightly butter a good non-stick pan (wiping up excess butter with a paper towel so it doesn't stay in the pan and burn), pour 1/3 cup of batter into the pan, swirl the batter so it spreads into a nice circle.

I watch for the edges of the pancake to look dry-ish then flip, cook long enough to dress the preceding pancake, then repeat.

Elsa likes hers straight up with butter and cinnamon sugar.

Carl likes his with powdered sugar and syrup (gag).

Charlie likes his with butter, powdered sugar and syrup.

Sarina likes hers with just butter and powdered sugar.

Charlie is my big consumer with this meal.  He gobbles up at least 7 when I make it.  And this recipe usually lasts me two breakfasts for my 4 kids.

Enjoy:)

Parenting Wisdom

I have two extremely valuable parenting bits of wisdom.

After much careful consideration I've decided I will share these two nuggets with you,

so you too can be in the know.

Are you sitting down?

Good.

First:

Mice have relatively clean mouths.

I know, right?!

Who knew?!

Not me, until today when my adventurous, and curious nephew tried to rescue a baby snake from the mouth of an evil mouse...

Of course that evil mouse retaliated with a nip on his finger.

Just a teeny, tiny little puncture on that baby, almost big boy finger.

And yes I did pour hydrogen peroxide over his owie,

then shuffled him into the bathroom to wash his hands -singing the ABCs five times while making bubbles.

Nurse said, mice have relatively clean mouths.

He's fine since he's up on his shots-just keep an eye out for infection.

The next one is a whopper.

I've actually been sitting on this gem for a while.

It might knock your socks off.

Here it is...

If you happen to ingest your own poop

it won't make you sick!

Ha!

Ha HA!!

So, for the mama's out there with precious babes in diapers

that happen to like to fish in their own diapers for a snack,

you're in luck.

It's crazy disgusting

but not lethal.

You're welcome.

You now have some fantastic knowledge in your corner.


May you never, ever have to use it.

20 Days Left

Just 20 days of summer vacation left.

Slidewaters July 2014
All my favorites (plus an extra favorite) in one frame...

Some moments it feels like an eternity.

Some moments it feels not nearly long enough.

It's been a fantastic summer.

The kids are old enough to go and do more and more fun things.

They're old enough to bring along friends every now and then,

at least the older two are...

They're old enough to have some pretty awesome and inspiring conversations

and share their observations.

They're smart

they're compassionate

they're intuitive,

until all hell breaks loose.

Until one appears to get more than the others.

Then it's like blood in the water.

And it's pure hell.

Especially for a waffler for me,

a people pleaser like me.

Is it too much to ask for them to get along?

For them to love each other as much as I love each

and every one of them?

For them to see how fantastically wonderful

and awesome

and precious

they ALL are?

I know it's practice for conflict outside the bubble of our home.

I know that it's going to serve them well later in life,

this in-the-trenches conflict management

in a trial by fire scenario.

Please Lord let me survive the epic battles

one

at

a

time.

Amen.

Changing Seasons

This is our car.

I thought it highlights our life right now.

Chairs for the lake (those Tommy Bahama camp chairs from Costco are AWESOME!)

swim bag packed with a blanket for the grass, towels, sun-scream (an Elsa-ism), swim goggles, my sun hat

a cooler with water, iced coffee, and snacks,

4 life jackets,

3 water noodles (we started the season with 5),

2 sand castle buckets which have become poor little fishy jails,

3 fishing nets (for transporting poor little fishies to their jails-and for making instant friends of all ages on the dock)

tackle box and fishing pole (Carl's best birthday present ever!),

mom's awesome green bucket that held the centerpiece from Mark's 40th bday party,

mom's towel that reads something like: "Lord keep your arm around my shoulders and your hand over my mouth"

and a TCYFL Cougar helmet for Charlie's first year of tackle football, complete with painter's tape with his name on it so the coaches know who is who on the field.

It's the transition of seasons, a month of 3/week football & cheer practices while summer winds down and we get ready for school.

As the kids are getting older it's easier and easier to be a fun mama- going to the lake, having friends over, coaching cheer, and enjoying summer time together.

I don't long for quiet time as much as I used to.  I'm getting it more and more, which makes me realize that it won't be long before I'll have more quiet time than I want.

For now I'll cherish the insanity of 4 fun-loving, active kids over a peaceful tidy house where everything is in perfect order.

There will be plenty of time for that later.

I'm one lucky, lucky mama.

A Spectacular Summer Day

Yesterday was one of many wonderful, hot days this summer.

I took the kids to the lake with Carl's first, best buddy.

After an afternoon filled with swimming,

fishing (they almost caught a big trout-thank God they didn't!),

and practicing crazy moves off the diving board

we were loaded in the car to take Carl's buddy home when they realized his life jacket was in Grandma's car.

Luckily, she was right behind me as we were leaving the neighborhood.

I pulled over and hopped out to grab his stuff.

When I climbed back in to the suburban, I look back to see Carl shaking his booty like he's twerking.

When I asked what the heck he was doing the boys informed me that Charlie had shoved an ice cube down Carl's swim trunks.

Gross.

Even grosser,

I heard shouts of excitement when he fished that ice cube out of his swim trunks and popped back in the jar of drinking water I'd packed.

Especially, after he'd detailed exactly EVERYWHERE that cube had traveled while visiting his private parts.

Nasty.

After dropping off buddy we went back to grandma's house for taco salad and Mexican Street Corn.

It was a nice evening.

After dinner I took the kids back to the lake for an evening swim.

There's nothing better than an evening swim when the lake water is warmer than the air.

It was a lovely, lovely evening.  

*The only thing missing was daddy who was working a 48 hour shift- which ends up being tough on everyone.  For sure, we'll make it a point to go back for an evening swim with daddy at dusk.

We were loaded up in the car, ready to head home, when the kids all hollered "GROSS!"

I whipped my head around to see what had sparked such disgust.

I see Elsa Jane gagging

and the boys demanding that I roll down the window before she barfed.

For some odd reason the kids are dying of thirst the SECOND THEY GET IN THE CAR.

Without fail.

Such was the case with Elsa Jane, who chugged the glass jar of drinking water

the same glass jar that Carl had used to pop the ice cube from down his pants.

The jar of Butt Water

Luckily she did not get e coli.

That would be really, really awful. 

We came home to this beautiful sight as I was tucking the kids into bed.

The perfect end to a fantastic day.

Even God seemed to think it needed a spectacular ending.

We are so lucky to live such a blessed life.

Name Calling

The other day the boys were arguing over something.

What it was I don't recall, I have been tuning it out more and more.

Lately, unless there's blood I don't really intervene unless it turns REALLY ugly.

Anyway, I heard Carl call Charlie "Beaver teeth" in a super agitated but almost quiet way.

Perhaps I'm a bit sensitive to that particular name since I was once a beaver toothed little girl (with a sharp middle part that pointed right to it...)

I was so angry with Carl I stopped and asked, "What did you call him?"

He did look ashamed as he repeated his insult.

When I demanded that he go up to his room his brother instantly came to his defense.

"What?"  Charlie asked.  "It's true."  He said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

Oh precious little guy.

He doesn't seem to care that his teeth are quite prominent at the moment.

So prominent that the dentist carefully phrased suggesting that we invest in mouth-guards for when he plays sports because those teeth are really "out there."  He said.  He thought we should be proactive in protecting them.

Thank God Charlie doesn't care.

And of course we'll get them all fixed up when the time is right.

Beaver teeth.

It hurt my heart but not my strong boy.

I didn't make Carl go to his room because his brother gave him a reprieve.  And because he looked genuinely sorry.

Brothers sometimes the meanest, sometimes the sweetest.

*and yes I have a few more posts to come when I have a few uninterrupted minutes:)

Bath time Late Spring 2014

Bath time with your sibling.

It's all fun and games until someone sharts.

The End.

PS I thought those days were over...

Yes, again

After a year of arthritis in my knees keeping me from running.

Then a year of stenosis of L4/L5 plus shingles keeping me from running.

And now a year with a broken foot keeping me from running,

or really any sort of exercise,

it's time to do it again.

Starting tomorrow.

So, if you see me chowing down on my purple cabbage, orange, and turkey or prawns you'll know why.

This time around I'll take multi-vitamins and iron to keep from losing my hair (I checked into preventing it from happening again).

Wish me luck.

I can do this!

Can You Hand Me That?

If you know me very well, you know that I'm not a morning person

at

all.

I really don't like to interact with anyone (unless it's morning snuggles) until I've finished my first cup of coffee.

This morning Elsa wandered into our room a little before 6am.

I still wasn't ready to get up, we'd had a late night the night before.

So I let her do whatever keeps her busy...

She played on my cell phone.

She went potty.

After I came out of the fog a bit she asked me,

"Can you hand me that?"

She was snuggled next to me and referring to a tube of hand lotion I had on the windowsill over my head.

(If you must know, I try to put hand lotion on once I'm in bed each night-my hands are always so dry.)

Since it was an odd requested I asked her why.

Her response, was typical Elsa-matter-of-fact,

"Cause I went potty but couldn't reach the toilet paper,

so I just used my hand."

I replayed the noises I heard this morning as she was rattling around and I was trying to wake up.

Running water was NOT one noise I recalled,

so I asked "Did you wash your hands?"

Her response was in the "duh" tone of voice,

"I didn't want to wake the kids up."

As in, you know better than that mom!

Gross.

I'll admit, I did stare at those baby hands, still round with baby fat on them.

And they were a bit less sweet to me knowing where they'd just been.

Yes, I did tell her to go wash- NOW.

And yes, my sheets are in the wash on EXTRA HOT

and MAXIMUM BLEACH.

"... I just used my hand."

GROSS!!!

She Keeps Me On My Toes

Just when you think that you know a kid...

I was getting used to the crazy pony-tail, boy undies, sweats, and t-shirts.

I was well trained in telling her she looked awesome instead of pretty,

I was rolling with it.

Then we got her hair cut,

trimmed the chlorine damaged ends,

and picked out a nice outfit for class picture day.

I think it may have been a turning of the tide.

She certainly still has a strong sense of what she likes and doesn't like.  But she loved this outfit.  I may have to return to Old Navy for more of those denim Capri's (in other colors...).

Still rocking the cute little ponies and in her other Elsa-style shirt.

Then came Easter and she loved her Anna doll (EVERYWHERE is sold out of Elsa dolls...)

She even tried on the Anna dress that came with the doll.

But we couldn't take her picture in it...

Then came Easter, she wore a matching dress with her sister.

Yes, I said "Bull*$#@" to get them all to smile.  But shhh don't tell...

Shooting some bows and arrows.

Waiting for "Go!" at the Easter egg hunt.

And then yesterday she picked this out at Costco.

I couldn't say no even though I should have.  She even slept in it!

I love that she follows her own agenda.

That she has her own idea of what she likes.

That she's not afraid to be herself.

I love this little one for who she is,

and she's one special little girl.

And don't worry, under the girl clothes she's been wearing (picture day she informed me that was the first time she wore girl clothes to Griffin)

she's still rocking the tightie-whities.

Boy undies don't "scrunch up your bottom" like the girl ones do.

Isn't it so fun to see who your little people turn into?

I'm one lucky mama.

Spring is in the air

Spring.

It's such a lovely season.

Torrential rains bring the most beautiful landscape on earth.

In Olympia we get to see the Olympics jagged and breathtaking covered in white

Mt. Rainier majestic in the distance.

We have the most lovely fluffy cherry blossoms everywhere you look.

And more greens than you could fathom, different shades everywhere you look, glowing in the sunlight, dark in the woods.

Spring also brings sports.

This is the first season that we have 4 kids on 4 different teams.

Mark is coaching one and assisting two baseball teams.

Sarina is in her third season of volleyball.

It's an insanely, wonderfully busy time of year.

Elsa is playing her first season of baseball.  She was so excited for her first game she pulled on that uniform before even coming downstairs, just as soon as she woke up.

Charlie is in his third season of baseball.  He plays with his pre-school buddies and this year is big boy ball- no coaches in the field, 3 outs in the inning, and a pitching machine.  He played catcher in his first game of the season and was on it!  It's going to be fun to watch him out there catching.  Mark said he's a natural.  I need to get a picture of him in his uniform...

Carl has moved up.  They're stealing bases, wearing cups, and all around big kids now.  I just about fell over the other day when he came skidding down the stairs ready to pull on his pants that I had to weave the belt through.  He had his special black baseball socks pulled up- over half-way up his thighs, and his special undies that hold the cup.  It was quite a look...

He's been playing first and third and pitching when he can.  I have to say I'm a tense wreck watching him pitch.  He's so little it's amazing to me that he can hurl a ball that far with pretty awesome accuracy.  And when playing third he fielded a ball perfectly-firing it to first then catching the return to get a second out (which we all think he got but the ump called the kid safe).

Sarina is loving volleyball.  She wanted to play at the YMCA so she had the fundamentals down for her first season on the school team next year.  It's fun to watch her walking around with her volleyball under her arm muttering "bump" "set" "spike!"

Our days are FULL.

But our kids are happy,

engaged,

and healthy.

I don't think we could ask for one single thing more.

Remembering Dad

April 12th would have been my dad's 68th birthday.

I'm often curious what it would be like to have him still with us- healthy and whole.

I know he'd enrich our lives even more than they already are.

He'd be counting the time until each and every sporting event,

marveling over and over at each kid's unique characteristics

the grey in my hair,

the number of grandchildren,

how busy we all are.

Even though he's not with us, he has still taught my children such a valuable lesson.

That there is a heaven.

That he's watching over us.

That he held the babies he didn't get to meet on earth, while they were still with him in heaven.

That we need to be sure to live a good life so that we can join him one day.

To celebrate dad's birthday we went to Priest Point Park where some of his ashes have been spread.

Melissa started the tradition and I'll admit I haven't been good about participating.

She's been ever faithful about it.

I've been sporadic.

As I drove to the park I was flipping through the radio stations and stopped on one that played song after song that I remember him listening to.  Cat Stevens (until he realized that Cat was supporting the PLO) and Elton John.

It was a beautiful, sunny spring day

with blue sky,

the mountains still covered in snow bright on the horizon,

cherry trees in bloom.

Melissa picked up his coffee (quad Americano made adding coffee instead of water)  from the Filling Station.

That was his morning routine.

Every morning they were open he'd drive himself there in this Isuzu Rodeo packed to the gills with his latest (or just buried) treasure, sprinkled with mail and change.

He'd hand over his gigantic white (at least on the outside) Starbucks mug for the girls to fill for him- just the way he liked-

bursting with the maximum caffeine possible.

They don't have drip coffee any longer (I'm sure they would if he were still around-just for him).

We took the kids and went down on the beach to anoint it with his special drink.

It was low tide just as it was the day we spread his ashes (quickly so the other visitors to the beach didn't realize what we were doing...)

Each of us took turns pouring out some for him.

I have no doubt dad laughed hard watching this happen.

Why oh why would that be the way she poured it?!

Then the kids played in the "cave" created by the root system of a fallen madrona tree.  Probably not the safest place to play- it didn't last too long.

Happy belated birthday dad.  I know you know how much we still love you

and think about you.

And I know you were with us that day (as always).

Garbage Can

"Best part of today was riding in the garbage can."

Yes, that came out of my kid's mouth tonight.

I was tucking Elsa in bed when

she offered up that little gem completely unprompted.

Many nights I ask the kids what their very favorite parts of the day had been.

I'm often surprised by their answers.

Tonight I was snuggled in Elsa's bed with her when she shared that little nugget all on her own.

This evening the kids discovered a brand new garbage can we have for hauling our glass to the street for recycling.

They decided it would be perfect for a little joy ride around the yard.

They even fought over who got to ride in it.

Elsa had the longest ride of all although it was super cold outside and I didn't want to stand out there long enough to capture it on camera...

Leprechaun House

One gloomy day after spending entirely too much time on Pinterest,

filling my head full of images of unrealistic, idyllic images I had a bright idea...

build a leprechaun house!

It'll be so fun!

We can scavenge items from the three acres of woods we live on.

We have lots of bark and moss and sweet little twigs and little ferns and pebbles!

We'll get fresh air

explore our property

and have some good old fashioned teamwork!

Ha!

We walked the woods

we tried to scavenge.

But I was foggy headed and weary with the gathering of boots

and rain coats

by the time we headed out the door that all I could muster was a silly photo of the kids in front of the cows.

Cows they were far too entertained by, watching them pee and poop.

And trying to check out if the lady in the back was about to have a baby.

I think she was...

Carl's head was filled with properly measured and cut and framed up little structures.

I can't blame him.

He's watched his daddy build everything perfectly his whole entire life.

My head was filled with lovely little Pinterest images such as this:

Later I showed Carl pictures of what I was envisioning.

And I've must have decided he wanted to try it out.

The next weekend we had one of the most vivid rainbows touch down in our neighbors field.

The boys caught sight of it before I did.

All I saw was Carl running

then Charlie running after him,

wearing my boots.

I headed out the door to chastise Charlie for tromping off in my boots when I caught sight of this beautiful, beautiful rainbow.

I couldn't get mad at Charlie for throwing on the first pair of shoes in sight in his effort to reach that rainbow before it disappeared.

Heck I was afraid I couldn't get a photo fast enough before it disappeared.

And those boys had a pot of gold at stake!

That rainbow renewed their drive to build a leprechaun house.

This time we found all the right materials.

We weren't even distracted by rivers of cow urine.

Mark cut up a fence board for us to lean together for our cobbled little house.

Carl went with him.

Mark was kind enough to decide to just build a properly constructed little house nailed together with a door and all.

But wise little Carl reminded Mark that it wouldn't be their house if he built it for them.

So, we worked together to put together a homey little shelter for any little leprechauns wandering through.

It's not as picturesque as what I saw in Pinterest

But it has lovely bark, soft and vibrant green moss, a little rock fire put, little rounds cut from apple branches for stairs and a walkway, and a little leprechaun trap baited with pennies in the hopes we can catch a lost little leprechaun willing to grant us three wishes.

Charlie kept saying, "Mom you gotta put this in Pinterest!  Lots of people are going to heart it!"

A painful reminder that I do spend a little (ok a lot) of time on Pinterest.  Perhaps too much.

Bald Little Heads

I've shared before that a little girl dear to our hearts is battling Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL)-and kicking it's a*# I must say.

After a rough start (over half of the school year) she's returned to her regular class.

When we were talking with Carl about how he might be able to help her feel better about coming back, we talked about shaving his head so she wouldn't be the only smooth little noggin in the class.

He thought about it for days.

And he made sure that it would grow back

before he decided that was what he really wanted to do.

It was pretty amazing.

His teacher and a few buddies shaved their heads in class fresh for our little friends return.

Charlie was adamantly opposed.

He was worried that his brother would remain permanently bald.

As Mark was shaving away,

Charlie lamented from the corner that he would be hideous, creepy.

But he isn't.

He started with a mohawk, just for fun.

And now his fresh bald little head.

And the kicker, is that Charlie requested to go bald too.

Bald IS beautiful!

Last night we shaved Charlie's hair off.

I'll try to get a picture of the two together tonight to add here.

It feels nice to know that your kids truly care about others.

That they take a moment to put themselves in others shoes, and try to consider what might help them to feel better.

Our little friend's parents will be participating in the Big Climb in Seattle March 24th.  Sam's team is in the top 10 for fundraising- Team Sam I Am, if anyone is able to add to that donation I know all families battling blood cancers would appreciate it.

One More Crazy Mama Event To Share

Maybe I should blog more of my good days than my bad...

But this mix up was too classic for me not to share.

Actually it happened a couple of weeks ago, and I'd even forgotten about it until I was talking to my mom and she didn't know the story.

A couple of weeks ago I received an email reminder that I was scheduled to usher for Olympia Junior Programs.

OJP has been around at least since I was a kid.

It was something I looked forward to every year.

Kids dress up and ride school buses downtown to the Washington Center for Performing Arts (we went to the Capitol Theater then WA Center in the olden days).

And then the kids get to see live theater.

It's fantastic and so wonderfully inspiring for those kids to experience cultural arts in this form.

Any way...

I make sure that I'm ready and have everything set so I can volunteer.

I get downtown and park in time.

Go through the mandatory orientation (no matter how many times you've volunteered).

I lead my bus to their seats.

Then I start looking for Carl.

Not seeing his class, I lean to another mom and whisper, "I don't see Carl's class."

She looked at me and said, "This is 4th and 5th graders.  He's not here."

Duh.

No wonder he looked at me funny in the morning when I told him I'd see him at Junior Programs that afternoon.

He wasn't even there!

Since that mom had disclosed that she hadn't signed in yet, I whispered back, "Your name is Jennifer, you're leading bus #4.  I'm out of here."

And I got to go out to lunch with my husband.

What an absolute dig-bat.

Today is the real OJP day.

I get to volunteer for both boys since first through third graders are going to see Br er Rabbit today.

I hope they let me volunteer with a boot on my foot...

The Boot

Yesterday was interesting.

Almost exactly a year ago I went to the podiatrist because my foot hurt.

Turned out it was an inflamed little bone under the ball of my foot.

I was fitted for orthotics and have been wearing them when my body has allowed me to run.

Which ramped up this spring.

I was doing well, running up to 10 miles a week.

Then that darn spot started hurting again on my foot.

And really, I'm such a space cadet I didn't clearly recall when or why my foot had hurt a year previously until I was sitting in  the exam room with the dr.

She took some x-rays of my foot again.

Lucky me, that silly little bone under the ball of my foot was snapped in half.

I have no idea exactly when it happened.  I just knew that my foot started hurting after a run and the 2 weeks of rest I tried didn't entirely make it go away.

So now I get to wear this boot for the next 4-6 weeks.

I'm just waiting for my klutzy self to tumble down the stairs trying to navigate them in this thing.

Want to know the kicker of yesterday, post boot?

I noticed I'd been wearing my underwear inside out all day long.

So, be warned...  Inside out undies just might lead to having to wear a darn boot forever!

The up side, is that the kids have been over-the-top helpful.

What is it they say about developing habits?

It takes 28 days?

Looks like I've got exactly that to train those little munchkins to pick up their own s#@*!

Happy Friday all!

Those Aren't Diapers

"Mooommm?"

My seven year old son called from the stairs.

"Why do we have diapers?"

I thought for a second.

"Uh, those aren't diapers, buddy."

"What are they?!" he asked.

"Those are for grown-up mommies."  I answered.

"Oh GROSS!" was his response, "those are for VAGINAS!"

How the H-E double hockey sticks does he know that?!

Yes, they are pantyliners.  For when mama pees her pants everytime she goes for runs,

I wanted to shout back at him.

Thanks to the whole lot of you young 'uns re-arranging my insides for three and a half years!

Sheesh!

Neverland

I know, it's been an eternity since I last blogged.

Not for lack of material.

Just once again feeling in over my head in every aspect of my life.

Actually, since my work has slowed significantly, I'm trying to get back into running.  That's where my extra energy (as if there was any extra) has been going.

When I'm overwhelmed I withdraw.  I don't answer the phone, I don't return calls, I don't initiate much.

I know it's not a great tendency to have, but that's who I am.  And I'm noticing the older I get the more pronounced this tendency is becoming.

When I do truly have more energy I'll focus more on fighting that urge.

As if there will be extra energy...?

Any way...

This was too cute not to share.

This morning was just me and my girl.

It's an afternoon kindergarten day- so she had all morning to stew over having to go to school and think about how she wished she was still in pre-school.

Out of the blue, Elsa asked how to stay a kid forever.

I hate crushing my kids with reality, so my answer was to go to Neverland.

We're still relatively fresh from our Disney Cruise so it's what came to me.

Her instant response was "Henry's been there."

She said it with 100% certainty.

I love people with confidence.

"He has?"  I asked.  Knowing her answer would be good.

She said, "Yes!  Remember?  He rode on a ferry?!"

Maybe I should clarify, "fairy."

I wish I could see the images in her mind.

Clearly, the ferry ride he took in December was actually a fairy ride to Neverland, not a ferry across Puget Sound.

I just want to know, did it include fairy dust?

Did everyone ride on the same fairy?

Because his whole family took that trip.

Now, I can't wait to ask Henry what his favorite thing was in Neverland.

Here we are in the Orlando Airport where we were greeted with a humongous Shrek mural.