The Summer In Pictures: Day 4

June 4

My new backyard is an exercise in intimidation.

You see, in Illinois we had a backyard that was roughly the size of a Volkswagon. But at the time it worked for us - the girls were little and we didn't have a need for a ton of green space. Then we moved to Oregon, the land of green things and our rental house had a decent sized backyard....unfortunately it was mostly comendeered by the landlord as a place to park all of his various non-working vehicles. The part that he wasn't using was uneven and dry, covered with crabgrass and goatheads, otherwise known as puncturevine the Pacific Northwest. Puncturevine is known as a noxious weed in Oregon (seen here: http://www.idahoweedawareness.org/vfg/weedlist/puncturevine/puncturevine.html) and it's nasty stuff. I refer to it as "that f'n crap that made it impossible to play outside without having a kid come in every five seconds with a thorn in their foot." But that aside, the bottom line is that it was kind of hard to get your garden on in the old house.

Now fast forward to the new place. It has a wonderful backyard - in fact it was one of the main reasons we bought our charming money pit with it's orchard view. And when I say it has a wonderful backyard, what I really mean is that it has the potential to have a wonderful backyard. You can tell that once upon a time, the previous homeowner was an avid gardener - there are all sorts of exotic (to me) flowers and shrubs struggling to survive out in our mini urban jungle. Unfortunately, you can also tell that the second the previous owner received our offer on the house, she stopped weeding, watering, and caring about it at all. For approximately three months. In the spring. When things grow. In fact I'm reasonably certain she forgot that she even still had a backyard. So by the time we got into the house a year ago, there wasn't much that could be done except hack down the weeds that threatened to eat us and hunker down until this year.

And finally, my efforts are paying off. Slowly but surely I am winning the battle to reclaim the yard. I can actually mow it, the grass is green, and we are cleaning up the flower beds bit by bit, having fun discovering the treasures already planted underneath months of old leaves neglect.

Among my greatest discoveries are the peony bushes. I have never had experience with these before, and when they bloomed I was stunned. The kids and I have had so much fun watching the plants produce their golf ball sized buds that suddenly explode into huge bright blossoms. They are simply magnificent, and the flowers themselves seem to be be saying thank you to me every time they bloom - thank you for bringing us back!

I am more than happy to oblige.

The Summer In Pictures: Day 3

June 3rd

It has been an unseasonably cool spring in the Columbia Gorge. Without a doubt, when we were wearing windbreakers on Wednesday afternoon I was thinking that it was definitely the coolest (almost cold!) June 1st we had experienced since our move four years ago.

But there appears to be light at the end of the tunnel. This weekend forecast highs are in the mid-80s AND it appears that our hard re-claimed strawberry bed is going to give us a harvest! Grow little berry, grow!

The Summer In Pictures: Day 2

June 2

Tonight we had Family Night at the kids' school. As usual it was a blast and we were excited and impressed by the level of work that these children continue to produce. Banana's giraffe finally made it up on the classroom wall, and I've got to say, it was pretty darn impressive.

Next year however, we are going to start earlier, and think smaller. And yes....I say that every year.

The Summer In Pictures: Day 1

June 1st

Today my Bailey girl is 10. She has been with me through it all - through my marriage and my pregnancies, through my miscarriage, and when I lost my Dad. When I came home after having emergency surgery, she jumped up on my bed and refused to leave my side for three days unless she absolutely had to take a doggy potty break. When I brought home each new baby, she appointed herself their personal guardian angel.

I can tell her anything and she loves me no matter what. My children do not know a world without her. Every so often I see the signs that she is slowing down and I realize that I'm not ready to lose her. She's been with me for so long I don't remember what it's like not to come home to her.

She is one constant in an ever-changing world. Happy Birthday, Bay. We love you.

Welcome Back

Welcome back.

It's been awhile, huh?

So sorry about that...it seems that sometimes life just gets in the way. Let's cover the basics first, shall we?

Everything is good.

Jobs are good. Busy on both fronts. I am ramping up for another busy summer in the world of 911. Nothing says, "hey it's June!" like a call that begins, "So I'm camping down at Frog Lake, and there are all these guys with guns running around."

The house is good, if not slightly messy. But let's face it, that's nothing new. I mean really, if I said it was spotless THEN you'd be shocked.

The kids are good. Everyone is healthy. The girls are chomping at the bit to get out of school for the summer, and Chunk is chomping at the bit to start pre-school in the fall.

Oregon continues to be good to us.

So let's try something........again. In the name of full disclosure, I have tried this before, and failed. I want to do the daily summer pictures again - where I post a picture every day that represents a part of our summer. Remember? I think last time I lasted three weeks, if even.

But last time I didn't have my Canon Rebel. I love it. I don't totally know how to USE it, but I adore it. And I'm excited to learn more about it this summer while I run around the Gorge with my kids. So I'll tell you what: I am going to start posting pictures. I'm going to aim for one a day. And we'll just see what happens.

If I blow it who's really going to know, right?

"I'm going to get married when I'm twenty."

That's what Banana informed me tonight when we were taking a homework break in favor of hitting the Golden Arches. There we are, driving along and jamming to the radio and out of the blue she asks me, "do you like being married?"

So many answers.....most of them way more complex and inappropriate for an eight year old's question.

"Of course I do." I tell her. "I love your Daddy and our family."

She mulls that over for a second and then asks, "how old do you have to be to get married?"

"Well," I hedge "I think you have to be at least eighteen to just run off and get married BUT that's pretty young too; I think it's a good idea to go to college first." She nods wisely.

"Then I'll get married when I'm twenty." she decides.

"That would probably be okay, but you won't be done with college yet, especially if you want to be a bug doctor." Are you seeing a theme to this conversation yet? I mean, naturally I don't tell her what I want to, which would be more along the lines of "over my dead body, you need to experience the world on your own and have friends and go to clubs and date and learn to cook and pay bills on your own first. You'll get your heart broken and break a few yourself, and overdraw your checkbook and buy your first brand new car and get a job and take a trip and cry over margaritas with your girlfriends and do all sorts of other stuff first." I can't say that. That's pretty heady stuff. So I stick with the basics. Like wanting to be a bug doctor.

Banana contemplates this. "Okay." she decides "Then I won't get married until I'm at least twenty four. And after I'm a doctor."

Works for me, kid. We'll work on the hard numbers later. Just stay my little girl forever.

More and more and MORE

Look at my adorable little man. My Chunk. My Buddy. My Boy.

Having a son....at the very least I can say that it's nothing like having a daughter - and not just because diaper changes are WAY easier - because it's way more than that. Boys are definitely wired differently. And even though I look ahead to the tween and teen years of raising two girls with apprehension and sometimes a dose of straight up dread, I don't really worry about not getting along with my girls when the hormones kick in. We will still be close. We will still be friends. We'll muddle through it together. And I work hard every day to make damn sure that they will never doubt that I am there for them.

But boys....boys are different. It's not that I won't be there for him. It's not that we won't be friends. It's not that I don't dread parts of the tween and teen years of raising a son. It's just that it's DIFFERENT. I can't really explain it. But it's what I'm sitting here pondering tonight after finally getting my Chunk into his bed.

Chunker zonked out on the couch earlier tonight, so he and I stayed up eating popcorn on the couch and watching the last twenty minutes of Twilight, New Moon on Showtime until just a few minutes ago. When the credits started rolling, I scooped him up and took him to bed. And once I got him settled under his Cars bed tent with his pillow pet and his puppy, snug and warm in his Batman jammies, with hugs and kisses said and done, I straightened up and moved towards the light switch. And just like every night, our script went into motion:

"Good night baby." I say.

"Night Mama." comes the sleepy reply.

I turn off the light.

"Mommy?" says that little voice in the darkness

"Yes Colin?"

"I wub you."

"I love you too sweetie." I tell him. And as if on cue, he replies

"I love you more and more and more and MORE."

And with that, I leave my little boy to his dreams of puppies and ice cream and hot wheels and anything else that passes through his beautiful blond noggin in the night.

Here's the thing: I know he will always love me. Just like I know that there is nothing in the world that can make me stop loving him. But I know that someday, he won't tell me as often, or with such amazing abandon.

I can hope that he'll always tell me that he loves me more and more and more and more. I already know that he won't. Not like he does now.

But I can hope. Because nothing is sweeter.

January Reading List

In my quest to track the number of pages I have read in 2011, here is my January reading list:

Sweetwater Creek, by Anne Rivers Siddons (Pages: 480)
This was okay - your basic "coming of age" chick lit kind of read. I wouldn't re-read it but I enjoyed it. It's the kind of book I would have read in high school, and has some stuff in it that I'll work to make sure my girls DON'T read, even in high school.



1st to Die (The Women's Murder Club Series) by James Patterson (Pages: 432)
I actually re-read this. It's been awhile and I'd like to work my way through the whole series this year. I think somewhere around the third one I stopped buying them and now they are popping up in thift shops and secondhand bookstores so I'm keeping an eye out for them and picking them up as I find them.


Under the Dome, by Stephen King (1072 pages)
Of all the King books I have read (and I've read a lot of them) this one is right up there with the ones that got into my head the most, It and Cujo. I'm not going to say that I didn't enjoy it (because I'm human and like all humans, I have a morbid streak), but there is no doubt that it was extremely disturbing. King writes so graphically that I was reminded over and over that since having my own children, I can't read certain things as easily as I used to. Hence why I have never re-read Pet Semetary. But it was good. I couldn't put it down until I had bullied my way through all one thousand plus pages.


I, Alex Cross, by James Patterson (365 pages)
Like all of Patterson's Alex Cross books, I read this in less than 24 hours. I have a major crush on Detective Cross and even though it was good, I didn't feel like it was quite up to his earlier Cross books. Patterson is assuming that if you are reading this one, you have read the previous books and although that is likely true, I really missed some of the more in depth character connections that are at the forefront of the earlier Cross books, and are the reason I got sucked into them in the first place. In the first Cross books, you feel like you are getting to know the family for the first time. Then later, it's like revisiting an old friend. I didn't get that this time and felt disappointed. But that being said, I will ALWAYS buy the next one in the series, and as a whole they are some of my favorites.


Total Books Read: 4

Total Pages Read: 2,349

Hard to believe

Another year has gone by. Today marked nine years of almost-always-happy-marital-bliss for Skippy and me.

In case you missed it a few years ago, here is one of my absolute favorite posts, "The Story of Us"

http://freckledmama.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-story-time-again-wild-applause-part.html

Couch to 5K: Week One

Feets don't fail me now.....

That's what I was thinking when I took this picture this morning while standing next to the treadmill and deep breathing at the gym at 6:30 this morning.

Once upon a time, I loved to run. I never really ran competatively, but I was one of the only girls who never groaned with dismay or faked cramps when the gym teacher announced that it was time to run the mile. At one point in high school, I was accomplishing the mile in eight minutes or less.

Then I went to college. They had buses. Then I had kids. They kept me home and I wasn't motivated to do anything for myself. And that was the end of that.

Then my butt expanded.

I had to buy bigger jeans.

And I am tired of it.

So today on my birthday, I started the Couch to 5K program. I am hoping to rediscover my love of running. I hope all of you will help encourage me when I am rocking, and push me when I'm slacking.

Week 1, Run 1: 30 minutes, 1.4 miles

It's that day again....

I really thought that I was going to be able to get away with not doing the whole "did you know that my Dad died?" blog this year. I was genuinely going to try. I've been venting my emotions out on Facebook and talking to good friends and just kind of getting by. But maybe I've been in denial, because every year I think it hurts a little less and really....every year I realize that it still hurts the same.

Plus tonight the husband is out of town and and my kids are doing their ping-pong-ball-off-the-walls imitations and I'm retaining water and craving chocolate and short on sleep so I'm just generally feeling kind of down. Not to mention I just finished wrestling a tinder-dry Christmas tree out of the house by myself, carpeting my hardwood floor in pine needles before knocking a shelf off of the wall and sending a lamp flying in the process -- right before stepping in dog doo after unceremoniously heaving what has basically become the world's largest toothpick into my front yard for the time being.

So yeah....I've hit a low point. Every Mommy has them. This is mine.

I'm not sure if it was the tree or the lamp or the kids that finally made me realize that I've spent a good part of my day IGNORING the day. I haven't let it in. And I'm still not sure I want to. Right now I kind of feel the way I did three days after Banana was born, when my Mom came over to help and I got emotional over the fact that I burned a grilled cheese sandwich right before bursting into hysterical tears when I stubbed my toe...I'm in that place right now - where the smallest thing could be akin to the breaking of a dam. And I'm not ready to open the floodgates.

So this year, let's try something different. If you want to read the sob story, it's on here, under January of 2009. This year let's talk about some of the GOOD stuff. Like the time we went camping and my parents realized that they had remembered the coffee, but forgotten the coffee filters. Being a coffee drinker myself now, I completely understand that that was a potential disaster of substantial magnitude. But my Dad didn't let it phase him - not when he had a perfectly good clean tube sock at his disposal. It may not have been Starbuck's Special Roast, but cafe ala sock probably had it's own unique taste!

Then there was the time he took me fishing. Actually he took me fishing millions of times, but this one time he took me to Shabonna Lake in Northern Illinois. I don't remember much about the day, just that we left early, he bought us McDonald's for breakfast, and I caught three fish that day. Mostly what I remember is that it was just me and my Dad, and that day I had him all to myself, and he was my hero.

I remember the look on his face the first time he saw me in a formal dress...and the look on his face after the doorbell rang and he saw the look on my high-school boyfriend's face! I remember sitting in the garage in the old yellow swing after getting my first real kiss and jumping six feet in the air when the door to the house squeaked open and he came out "to check on the sprinkler." Sure, the sprinkler. Right. Moving on.

When I was in college we took our last big family vacation to the Grand Canyon. In Sedona we ventured out on a guided horseback tour. If you have ever been on one of those, you know that the only horses that are more gentle and calm are the ones you see hitched up to the pony rides for little kids at the carnival. But when we crossed a small stream, Dad's horse pawed at the water and whuffled loudly, coming up on his hind legs before finally relenting and crossing the creek...and afterwards to hear Dad tell the story, you would have thought that Wyatt Earp had just bullied his wild steed across the mighty Mississippi.

I remember so many different things - so many snapshots - so many moments.

I remember telling him he was going to be a Papa. Twice.

When Skippy and I got married, my Dad was determined to have everything just so. My Mom was the one who worried about getting the bride ready to go, but Dad was the one who made sure I ate breakfast and who decided at the last minute that we should have balloons for the guests to release after the ceremony. I remember him coming to me in the chapel and telling me that it was time to go. He was stoic when he walked me down the aisle - my pillar of strength. His voice was strong when he replied "Her Mother and I do" in response to the classic "Who gives this woman in holy matrimony?" He was quiet and proud and serious when he took his seat next to my Mom....and then somewhere along the way, during a fourteen minute ceremony, it was the father of bride, not the mother, who became choked up.

So many little things....like when my Dad laughed really REALLY hard, I used to think he sounded like Ernie from Sesame Street.

He bought cheap beer, but I think his real drink was rum and Coke.

He tucked his tshirts into his sweat pants on weekends.

He drove us crazy, lectured, and gave unsolicited advice every chance he got.

He loved us more than anything.

I love you, Dad.

S-T-R-E-T-C-H

You know that feeling you get on a Saturday morning in the spring, when you open your eyes, warm and cozy under your favorite blanket in your bed, and you see the sunlight streaming in through the windows? The birds are chirping, your children are sleeping, and there is a cat purring on your pillow...and although you feel fully awake in an instant, ready to greet the world for another day...you take just one extra moment, and you stretch. You arch your back and close your eyes and point your toes, and you STRETCH every creak and kink and ache away before you begin the day. You feel your lungs fill with so much air that your chest hurts, and then you let your body go boneless and the air comes out in a whoosh and for a split second your chores and your worries and your to-do list all seem minor and your whole world is just waiting for you to begin all over again. It is without a doubt one of the very best and most gratifying feelings in the world.

I have to tell you, that's how it feels to sign into your blog when you've been away for far too long.

Too much has happened since I last checked in with you, so I've decided that I won't even try to begin to cover it all. Some of it has been wonderful. Some of it has broken my heart. I've been stressed out and I've cried and I've laughed until I've wanted to puke and I've hugged my kids more times than I can count. Life is hard. Life is good. And I think that rather than spend a whole blog entry looking back, I'd rather just take a big bloggy stretch and look towards what lies ahead instead. I'm sure we'll reminice as we go.

It's the first day of a new year. I am ridiculously romantic about starting a new calendar. I believe in resolutions and new beginnings and that anything is possible on January 1st. It doesn't even bother me that at some point, I will most likely break the numerous resolutions that I've made - I told a co-worker that at some point during the year I always come full circle and revisit them. I don't think of resolutions as ironclad win-or-lose edicts....I consider them guidelines that I set to make myself a better person, a better wife and and a better mother. And if they fall by the wayside occasionally, that's okay. I know where to find them again.

So in case you haven't figured it out, the big resolution of 2011 is to blog more. Or rather, to blog again. This is the one resolution I hope to hold on to firmly because I have realized recently how much I miss my blog - how much I miss sharing our life in Oregon with anyone who cares enough to read about it. So stay tuned, because I'm hoping to attack it with a vengeance, and I'm going to try really really really REALLY hard to blog at least once a week.

I've got some other resolutions...I already know that some will be more successful than others, but we'll see how it goes. Naturally I'm going to share them with you, so that in coming months you can taunt me while I stumble around trying to hold fast to them.

Ready?

(I can tell you're on the edge of your seat. Really.)

So I'm going to lose some weight. Let's just get that one out of the way because I totally get that it's trite and predictable and that a kazillion other people have said the exact same thing tonight. But I'm really going to do it. We'll get into the specifics more later, but let's just say that over the last year I have developed a "bookshelf ass" and I'm not happy about it. I do not believe that it just means that there is more of me to love - I believe that if someone can set their drink on the top of my rear at a party that things have gotten way out of control. And maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit....but really, it's bad. And I'm done. So more on that later.

Just for fun I want to keep track of the books I read this year. I want to cook at home more. I want to coupon hardcore at the grocery store again. I want to play board games with the kids and beat them at Mario Kart on Saturday nights. I want to make a point to go on dates with my husband again. I want to keep learning new ways to do my job better, faster, and easier. I want to stress less, sleep more, and enjoy my family.

I want to have a good year. So I'm going to stretch and flex and shake out the cobwebs...and I'm going to get my rear in gear. Here's to 2011.


***************************************

Currently Reading: "Run Like a Mother" by Dimity McDowell and Sarah Bowen Shea

Windows to the soul....

That's what they call eyes - the windows to the soul. Now I'm not sure who "they" are, but I think that they are on to something. After all, the majority of people will list the eyes as one of the top attributes that they notice first when meeting someone new. They can express every emotion a human being can experience. They let lovers speak without words. They tell a mother a child's secrets. And the other day, my son's eyes offered me a surprising revelation.

Chunk and I were out and about running errands. It was just your usual day of grabbing coffee - or in Chunk's case, "hot cha-cit wif cweem!" (Otherwise known as hot chocolate with whipped cream). Then we stopped to pick up milk, buy stamps, and dropped in at dispatch to check the work schedule and to let Chunk con my boss out of some candy. It was sunny, the radio was playing, and the time slipped by for me and my boy. In fact, it was lunchtime before we knew it, and I marveled at how quickly my almost-kid-free school days tend to fly by.

We were having such a nice afternoon that rather than run home for yet another ho-hum PB&J, I decided that we would have a date and hit the Golden Arches. We don't go to McDonald's very often, (although still more than I'd like) but I had a new mommy magazine full of clutter busting tips I'd never implement and another chicken-of-the-month recipe and I was anxious to read through it while Chunk played in the plastic tunnels and squealed from the top level of the play place.

So there we were, eating and playing and reading and it strikes me that my Chunk is getting big -
I can actually hold a somewhat coherent conversation with him now, and I usually understand at least half of what he is saying. So while we talked about colors and chicken nuggets and sisters, I thought about how big he is and how fun...and how much he looks like Charles. It's uncanny....in fact it's almost creepy. Although it's most obvious in Chunk, all three of my kids have very strong W family features, to the point where sometimes I'm a little melancholy over the fact that they don't look just a little bit more like me. But at the end of the day they are healthy and amazing and beautiful and I just don't sweat it. There are so many other things that are so much more important. And I know that. But still.

A quick glance at the clock tells me that it's time to run - it's almost time to hit the bus stop to grab the girls. So we wrestle Chunk's feet into his sandals, slurp down the last of our drinks through our straws, toss our trash and head out the door. I snap the buckles on Chunk's car seat and climb up behind the wheel. I tell Chunk how much fun it was to have lunch with him, and I glance in my rear view mirror to see his response.

And in that moment, I catch my breath. The mirror is angled at just the right angle, and all I can see is Chunk's sweet little face from the nose up.

He has my eyes.

Sure....he looks just like a little carbon copy of Charles. There is no doubt that he's a W kiddo. The guys at Google call him mini-Chuck. He is the image of his father. It's adorable and kind of freaky.

And his eyes are the same beautiful sky blue that Charles' eyes are - maybe that's why I never noticed. His facial features are his Daddy's......but when he smels and his little face crinkles up, I notice the shape of his eyes.....

Those are all mine. They may be blue and not brown, but he has my eyes.

Now really, does it change anything? Not really. I know that. I don't feel any differently about my son, or about myself. I realize that my who my children are and who they become will be shaped by our actions and our lessons and their own individual personalities more than anything. I know that in the scope of the bigger picture, looks don't matter. And that in my eyes all three of my children are the most beautiful children in the world.

But for some reason, as I pull out of the parking lot, I can't stop smiling. And I think that's okay too.

Did I mention....

Did you know that my baby boy turned three?

I know. It's hard to believe. Sad but true folks, my sweet little angel man has entered the terrifying threes (screw the terrible twos, they are a myth to lull us into complacency so that when the threes hit we are totally shell shocked). Now in my completely unbiased opinion, Chunk is the most amazing, accomplished, and adorable three year old ever. Plus he's super sweet. And he's funny.

Now if only I could get him to consistently go on the potty, my life would be complete....

But anyway, as seen in a previous blog, we started off the birthday festivities with dinner at the kids' favorite Mexican restaurant here in town, where the boy got to shake his money maker and a pair of maracas while wearing a kid-sized sombrero. I had a drink with dinner. Overall it was a great night.

Birthday celebrations capped off with Chunk's first movie, "How to Train Your Dragon." I wish I could give you a review. I really do - from what I saw, it was super cute and the 3D glasses appeared to be a lot of fun. Unfortunately, I spent the majority of the show realizing that Chunk wasn't quite ready for a full-length movie. By the time we walked out of there, I was exhausted and had muscles aching in places I hadn't ever experienced before.

But I rallied (because I'm a Mom and I had Advil readily at my disposal) and we continued the fun at home with presents and cake. It didn't take long to discover that this is "The Year of Cars" and "The Year of Hats." The cars are kind of a no-brainer because he's a boy, and he's three. But the hats....there's a story there. See, a few weeks ago we were on the webcam with Nana (gotta love technology) and she asked Chunk what he wanted for his birthday. With no hesitation and zero prompting, he replied "I want a HAT!" So Nana being Nana, went on a quest for hats with Jack. Shortly before the big day, a box arrived that was roughly the size of a smart car and amid the sixteen pounds of packing peanuts (THANKS NANA) we found a cowboy hat, a soldier hat, a train hat, a construction hat (complete with a yi-ite!), and all sorts of assorted goodies to go with the hats! Shortly after that, an awesome space helmet showed up from Aunt Sarah.

So the kids is totally set on hats. And totally set for the next six Halloweens. Eventually I'll get a new blog post up, titled "the many hats of Chunk" but for now I'd be happy if he'd sit still long enough to get a picture. And from everyone else, he got cars. And tracks. And accessories. And best of all, an adorable little wheeled suitcase for all of his newly acquired hot wheels.

Overall, I think that my big-little boy had a wonderful birthday. It's hard to believe that not so very long ago, this was my Chunk......

>sniff<

>sigh<

We survived Spring Break....and now I need a vacation.

Whew.

The kids are back in school.

I know it's not PC to admit this, but between you and me, my friends of the interwebs...I'm relieved as hell. My children are awesomely exhausting.

We had a busy Spring Break. We parked it up and hiked it up and movied our butts off and now I'd love nothing more than to park my butt on a beach with a paper-umbrella-embellished-drink. But alas, some things just aren't meant to be.

Here are some highlights of our week:

The girls enjoyed their first tailgate with their Grammy, up on the Rowena Loops. They were searching for the massive fields of wildflowers that are supposed to abound this time of year, but apparently they were a little bit early. Still, sandwiches, pickles, and snacks were enjoyed, and a few nice pictures got taken. As a side bonus, I enjoyed a few hours in a quiet house with my boys and caught up on my sleep after a few busy shifts at work.

Both of the girlies also had a chance to practice their camera skills on a few early spring flowers:

We also braved the zoo - along with every other school-aged child and harried mother in the state of Oregon. We packed a picnic and dragged along some friends and had an awesome time seeing the baby elephant and the smelly penguins and goats and lions... and don't go asking Laura about the little episode in the lion exhibit. Let's just say that I thought there were only two in the enclosure and that when a third sauntered out from around a nearby rock corner licking her chops and eyeballing my slightly more than rounded rear end, I almost peed myself. We aren't going to ever mention this again.

Anyway, here's a few shots - do you know how hard it is to make six kids look at a camera at the same time? Laura got the best shot so I stole it off of her Facebook. The girls especially had fun feeding the lorikeets.

After the zoo, I was honestly pretty exhausted. In fact, it would have been fair to say that I was gratefully looking forward to working all day on Wednesday and Thursday, if only because it would give me a chance to REST. But before that could happen, I soldiered on in the name of fun on Tuesday, taking the kids out for ice cream and for a hike down on the riverfront trail that runs through our scenic little town. I am sorry to say that there aren't any pictures of this - not because I didn't bring the camera, but because it was me against three kids, one dog, dripping ice cream, and the distractions of frogs croaking, joggers, off leash dogs, an airplane flying overhead, the creek, and the great adventure of a five year old that desperately needed to pee behind a bush. Let's face it, pictures were the last thing on my mind - I was just trying to make sure we all made it back to the blissful safety of my minivan before the sun went down and we got lost within 100 yards of the Google complex and the animal shelter.

So yeah. That was fun. WHATEVER.

Wednesday and Thursday I worked. That meant that my dear devoted girlfriend and babysitter Laura had the kids. I would have offered her the chance to blog about the experience, but I doubt the good people at Blogspot would appreciate that many obscenities and f-bombs being dropped in one post.

But once Friday rolled around, we were in the home stretch. We hung out and watched movies. Skippy and I cleaned out half of the garage on Saturday and took everyone out to our favorite Mexican restaurant for the Chunker's third birthday - he loves it whenever anyone gets to wear the big sombrero and all of the servers sing "happy birthday, cha cha cha" -- so what better way to say good bye to the terrible twos than with his own serenade, complete with maracas. On Sunday, we rounded out our Spring break with How To Train Your Dragon in 3D. It was the Chunk's first movie in the theater - aside from the ones when he was a few months old and small enough to nurse under a blanket and fall asleep while his sisters shoveled popcorn into their mouths. He wasn't crazy about the 3D glasses, but liked he liked having his own box of "tandy" and he loved to make his seat go up and down...oh yeah and he even seemed to enjoy intermittedly watching the BIIIIG TEEE VEEEE. But that being said, I think we'll wait before we attempt it again. And after the house lights came back up, we headed home for cake and presents (but that's another blog) and finally we tackled baths and backpacks.

So overall, our Spring Break meshed with my little boy's birthday pretty nicely. That night I peeked in on my sweet munchkins before I collapsed in my own bed, and I thought to myself that our week of freedom and fun had absolutely flown by.

But when Monday rolled around, I'd be lying if I didn't say that I wasn't thrilled to see that bright yellow bus pull up.

"My Keeeety"

I really need to utilize my camera more. For awhile there, I was a picture taking fool. I would even venture to say that I had a decent eye for awesome shots of my kids. But for the last few months my shutter happy amateur skills have taken a hiatus. I snapped this shot of the Chunk with my phone yesterday and realized that I really need to get my camera back into my hands...because time flies by far too quickly.

In case you haven't seen it already, here's Chunk with his friend "my keeeety," the newest addition to the W Zoo, Licorice.

Parenthood....my thoughts.

Well, it's official - the Olympics are over. We enjoyed them tremendously this year - it was the first year that the girls were old enough to really understand the awesomeness of the Olympics and they were pretty fascinated with all of the different events, with the exception of curling. One rainy Saturday Skippy hollered down the hall for the girls when curling came on and they dutifully came running to check it out. After a brief explanation, they stared at the TV for a few minutes and then turned to their Daddy with blank expressions and in stereo surround sound told him, "I don't get it."

Me neither girlies.

But anyway, the Olympics were a blast. Now it's time to get back to good old fashioned in-my-jammies-on-the-couch TV. This past Tuesday, I propped my eyeballs open into the wee hours of the night (aka ten p.m.) to watch the premiere of Parenthood on NBC http://www.nbc.com/parenthood/ and I thought it was great. If you have kids, or if you work with kids, or if someday you want kids, then you should definitely watch it. The cast is wonderful - I immediately recognized Lauren Graham from her days on Gilmore Girls, and I am a huge Peter Krause fan from the short lived Dirty Sexy Money, although I've read that he was hugely successful on Six Feet Under on HBO as well. I think that what I liked most about the show was that it had something for everyone - the successful working mom, the stay at home daddy, the single mom, parents with rebellious teens, parents with little munchkins, and the cornerstone of the premiere episode, parents dealing with their child's newly diagnosed disability. And aside from the fact that everyone in the cast was skinny, fit, and sexy, I thought that the show it was pretty realistic - and let's face it, the show wouldn't be as appealing with a lot of chubby soccer moms like me running around - I like my actors as hot and sexy as the next viewer. And despite the fact that lot of online reviewers bitched and moaned that it was too similar to "Brothers and Sisters" I thought that it had a more appealing plot, plus the advantage of not having Sally Field OR Calista Flockhart (who as Skippy would say, still needs to eat a sammich) in the cast.

But anyway, I liked the show so much that I was still thinking about it while I drove my purple minivan around town all day on Wednesday in all my Mommy glory. Mostly it got me wondering when my tastes changed so much. It's funny what parenthood does to you. Skippy and I occasionally laugh about how quickly things can change - like when I'm saying goodnight at quarter to ten and heading to bed we will often remark that once upon a time, quarter to ten was prime "let's get dressed in something hoochie and hit the bars on a Thursday night" time for me and Jacquie. Napping used to be a luxury but now, it has become a necessity that all too often eludes me. And even looking at the magazines that come into my house provides proof of the changes. After all, I look forward to my monthly deliveries of both Family Fun and Family Circle (you'll notice that both of these titles contain the world "Family"). But more importantly, let's touch on the fact that I get FAMILY CIRCLE - it's like Better Homes and Gardens for those of us who don't have the time, money, or talent to make Martha Stewart Perfect rooms and rose beds but still find ourselves in dire need of another new "quick and easy dinner idea" for the nights that the kids have soccer practice.

But when did this happen? When did a fully loaded Honda Odyssey become my total dream car? When did vomit stop being a big deal? When did I develop a first name relationship with the doctor's office, and when did the highlight of my week become MOPS or Friday night skate night at school? And where in the HELL have all of these damn animals come from? Isn't it enough that I have kids?

I've noticed that it seems to happen gradually, this transformation. You stand in line at the grocery store (with your cart full of foodstuffs that bear no resemblance whatsoever to your child-free carts of the past) and you glance at the covers of the various magazines. Suddenly, instead of thinking "Wow, Cosmo has twenty ways to blow your lover's mind this month!" you are thinking "Wow, Woman's Day has a chicken-smothered-in-salsa recipe that I HAVEN'T tried yet!" You don't even realize that you are doing it - it's not that you wouldn't love to know how to twist your body into a pretzel for your partner's delight, it's just that you would love to have that chicken recipe more...and the fact that now your knees crack when you get out of bed and your ankles protest when you go down the stairs in the morning. It's not that you don't care what the season's hottest color is, it's that that the hottest color has become "What doesn't make my ass look big?" or the ever popular, "What will make my boobs look like they are up where they belong?" It's because now you have a family to feed, and your six year old who (despite what she claims) cannot subsist on noodles alone.

It's a funny thing, becoming a parent. It changes you to the core. And if part of it means that I find that I relate to things in different ways, I think that's okay.

And really, I wouldn't change it for anything.


~~~~~~~~~~

Currently Reading: Envy, by Sandra Brown

Had to share...

I can't take credit for this - in fact I picked it up off of a Facebook friend's wall -but I did have to share it!

7 Ways to Trick Your Wife into Having Sex Every Day - john walker - Open Salon

911....this is Momma (plus a W family update)

So.

Hi there.

It's been awhile, huh?

There's really no excuse - to put it simply, blogging has just been on the back burner for the last six months or so. And I have missed it. But there's so much to catch up on, I think we'll just touch on the basics.

First of all, the kiddos are great. Everyone in the W house is recovering from one form of crud or another, ranging from double ear infections to viruses of unknown origin, but we are all on the mend. I think that for today, I can handle a quick rundown on everyone, but then the couch is calling my stuffy head towards a soft pillow.

Munchkins first: The girls continue to rock it out in second grade and kindergarten, respectively. Banana is consistently scoring awesome spelling tests and she has finally discovered the cool and exciting world of chapter books. I told Skippy recently that it's as if someone has flipped a switch inside her noggin - she has realized that not only CAN she read, but that she LIKES it. And considering how much as Skippy and I love to read it does my heart good to see her with her nose in a book. Her most recent report card shows that she is steady and consistent with her progress in school, and her teachers and friends adore her. She continues to be my big helper girl and she still amazes me with her empathy and her huge heart. In the last few months, we have caught small glimpses into the future - she is fast approaching the "tween" years and at a very mature seven years old, there are times I just cringe and wonder how I will survive until she runs away to college. But the occasional door slamming, stomping, and eye rolling aside, she's still my number one big girl. I find it hard to believe that she's going to be eight this summer!

Kbear is growing by leaps and bounds both physically and mentally. She LOVES all-day Kindergarten and is quite the social butterfly. On her last report card, she showed improvement in almost every area with no backsliding elsewhere. She has tackled roller blades during skate night at school and has turned into quite the little terror on wheels. She loves music and she's always bringing me home pictures, projects, and cards. We still struggle daily with a touch of "middle child syndrome" but overall she continues to be a sweetheart of a curly mop top who is easygoing and hilarious. We celebrated her sixth birthday a few months back with a trip to build-a-bear in Portland and a big girl lunch at Olive Garden and I recently had to do a double take when I realized that all of her jeans were slowly but surely turning into carpi pants. School has really opened her up and she is always eager to share her thoughts and ideas. She soaks up new knowledge like a little sponge, and she is so much fun to watch.

Chunk has officially become my handful. Most days I am half convinced that someone sneaked into my house one night and replaced my adorable smiley baby boy with a demon in disguise. The kid just.never.stops. He climbs and he hides and he sneaks and he builds and he plays and he grabs and he tumbles EVERYWHERE and into EVERYTHING. But more than anything, he makes us laugh. Chunk is the epitome of the spirited child. Every day I wonder how in the world I was so unprepared to tackle the challenge that is Chunk, and then my friends laugh and say, "he's a boy, and he's almost three." So in other words, buckle up Buttercup, because it's going to be a wild ride. He LOVES to talk, he LOVES to run, and he LOVES to make messes. But at the end of the day, no matter how wretched he has been, he melts my heart when he curls up in my lap and asks, "mama, know what? I love you." I mean really, who could resist?

And that pretty much wraps up the kiddo update. Skippy continues to be gleefully and gainfully employed at Google. Don't ask me what he's doing these days, because I've got to tell ya - I don't have a clue. But I know that he's busy doing Googly things and that he is usually under some degree of pressure, and that is when he's happiest. He has also gotten to do some pretty extensive travelling since I last blogged, including trips to Taiwan and Belgium. And although I was not impressed with the chicken flavored Cheetos he brought home from Taiwan, he made up for it with the Belgian chocolate. Bonus time is rolling around again, and it looks like we may be (finally) getting out of the-rental-that-Amy-hates and getting back into our own house. Keep your fingers crossed - I know that we are!

Last but not least, that brings us to little old me. Amy, the crazy stay at home Mama. You may have been thinking these last few months, "where is Amy's blog? She's got nothing better to do except fold laundry!" But as it turns out, I've been busy. Last year I came to the realization that being a full time stay at home Mom might not be my thing. As much as I adore my awesome kids, I was really starting to want a little something more that was all my own. And so I went back to work.

Last October, I started training as a 911 dispatcher. It has been a wild, crazy, and insanely stressful ride, but I have enjoyed it immensely. For the last four months, there hasn't been time to do much other than eat, sleep, and train. What little time and energy I had was being thrown 100% into my family. And although there have been many days when I feel guilty for loving my job, for the most part it has taught me amazing things about myself, and I love working. I have discovered that going back to work has made me a better Mom (although a crappier housewife) and I honestly wouldn't trade it. Skippy has been tremendously supportive, and it felt amazing to make him proud at my Dispatcher "Graduation" a few weeks ago at the Public Safety Academy. After a few more shifts my trainers are going to push me out of the nest and I'll be flying on my own. I'm terrified and excited, but I love having a job that helps people and is an asset to the community. And this is probably the best time to say that although I am looking forward to getting back to blogging, don't expect too many details about the job itself - obviously you have to understand the incredible standards we are held to concerning privacy and confidentiality. However, going back to work doesn't make me any less of a busy minivan-driving mama, so it's not as if I'll ever lack for my own stories concerning the comings and going of the W clan.

So that's really it. That's the full recap. We are doing well. Oregon continues to be good to us and spring is well on it's way here. Aside from these recent bouts of crud, everyone is for the most party healthy and busy, and I'm hoping to have some updated stories and pictures to share soon! Lots of love!

~A~

On hiatus....

Amy's blog is officially on hiatus for a few more weeks while life is messy and hectic. Never fear, all eight of you will have plenty to read soon - I plan to get back at it by the end of the month!

All is well in W World, just very very busy.