So my Mom is back at work

It's hard to believe that she was just here a few days ago! But alas, all awesome visits must end and after a day off to recuperate from a week with my kids (anyone would need time to recover, trust me), she is back to the old grind today.

Now it's time to BLOG! I'm finally feeling like myself following our crappy drive home on Sunday night but I need to tell ya'll about Mom and Jack's awesome trip.

So look for the first of several blog entries later today - for now, here's a link to some of the awesome pictures I took while they were here!

http://picasaweb.google.com/freckledmama/NanaSVisit2008

911....what's your emergency?

"Yes ma'am. I am on Eastbound 84 between mile markers here and there and there is a body lying in the righthand lane."

That was the conversation I found myself having around 9:15 last night. After spending a wonderful and busy afternoon in Portland with my Mom and Jack, Skippy was driving a van full of sleeping kids (and a sleeping wife) homeward.

He woke me up just outside of town so that I could get my bearings a bit. Traffic was light. I could hear Banana snoring. As we were chatting about what a wonderful week it had been, I think we both noticed the vehicle two cars up hit its brakes and swerve but it's not as if it caught our full attention - we were just driving along, almost home. However, when the car in front of us swerved, Skippy was suddenly more focused on the road - just in time for us to swerve as well - around what appeared at first to be a sack of clothes.

In split seconds he looked at me and I looked at him and we both realized that what we had just seen was a person. He immediately pulled over to the shoulder and jumped out of the van (he has past emergency training) and I scrambled for my phone to call 911. Both cars in front of us had also pulled over and the two behind us as well, but my call was the first one into dispatch.

That conversation will stay with me forever I think. The woman was so calm and I could hear my own voice rising and struggling to keep from getting hysterical. A police car was on the scene before I was off the phone and seconds later, the fire truck and ambulance arrived.

The young man lying in the right lane was dead on the scene. As long as I live I will never forget what I saw. Last night I kept trying to close my eyes and all I could see in my mind was a lone shoe - in the left lane about twenty feet from the body.

The whole thing was surreal. Our small knot of witnesses stuck pretty close together. One woman was crying. One was praying. And I thought I might be sick. Skippy was answering questions for the medics, and then suddenly the woman who had been driving the truck two cars in front of us said, "I swear, I thought it was a deer. Oh God, I thought it was a deer."

To see this woman who was obviously in shock, who's just struck and killed another human being, rocked me to the core. Several of us surrounded her - in part to make sure she stayed on the scene and in part to help hold her together. She was shaking. Her skin was cold as ice.

It didn't feel real. I've seen highways shut down for accidents - but to be a witness standing on the OTHER side of the flashing lights is another thing all together. You couldn't help seeing things that you wish you could un-see. Even though we didn't see the actual accident occur, I saw plenty of the aftermath that I wish I hadn't, and THAT was out of the corner of my eye because I couldn't bear to actually look. But it was hard not to see things - cops are standing there asking us questions and ten feet away a human being is laying in the middle of the freeway. It kind of screws you up. There was a young group of kids across the street at one of the motels trying to get a glimpse of what was happening and believe me, they don't know how lucky they are that they couldn't see squat because what I saw gave me nightmares last night.

Finally we were told that we could go, that the police would be in touch if they had any more questions, and to call if we remembered anything that might be useful. I'll never forget walking away from the woman who hit the young kid - thinking that in a heartbeat her entire life had changed - even if nothing happens legally, she will certainly never be the same. And somewhere a family was about to receive the news that no one wants to hear.

My own kids slept through the entire thing. As we were getting in the van Banana woke up and asked us what was happening. We just told her that there had been an accident and that mommy and daddy were seeing if anyone needed any help. She dozed back off until we got home five minutes later. I am so thankful that today I don't have to worry about them asking questions or being scared. I am so thankful that we weren't just two cars up when that kid decided to run across the freeway. I am so thankful for my family.

A very cherry of a day....

And so another Cherry Fest bites the dust. What a difference a year makes. Last year I was still trying to figure out which streets in downtown were One Way Only, not to mention trying to remember which way they went. Last year I knew almost no one.

This year I could barely turn around without bumping into someone that I knew from somewhere. And my Mom and Jack were here, which made it an even better Cherry Fest.

I'll blog all about our wild and crazy week very soon. Tomorrow is our last day with Mom and Jack and we'll be spending it in Portland. We're going to go to OMSI and Powell's and Voodoo donuts and who knows what else. But at the end of the day, once dinner is eaten and sights are seen, it will be time to say good-bye.

And that will be rough.

Lots of blogging and lots of stories and TONS of pictures are all coming soon! Happy Cherry Fest!

What happens in Vegas....

Come on, you know the rest!

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas......

EXCEPT MY MOMMA! Because even though she is going to Vegas tonight and through the weekend, she will be HERE in the wonderfully fantastic and beautiful Pacific Northwest on Monday night!

<--- that's Mom and her main squeeze Jack. I think they are at Wrigley Field in that picture which will make Skippy temporarily hate them just a tiny bit. But it's a cute picture.

I haven't seen her since last July and the girls haven't seen her since right after the baby was born so I absolutely CANNOT WAIT!

(Obviously, my Mom and I are pretty close, LOL)

We have lots of fun stuff planned. We're going to make a trip to the coast, we're going to go to Banana's school, and we're going to go to Cherry Fest and OMSI and do whatever else we can squeeze in! The kids can't wait to see Nana. I can't wait either.

Now if the damn weather will just cooperate. It's supposed to SNOW this weekend! Can you believe it? It was eighty three degrees last Saturday and now they are calling for SNOW all up and down the mountain ranges and in the Gorge. What a bunch of bull huh?

Be wrong Mr. Weatherman. You win some, you lose some. Trust me, no one will mind!

Travel safe Mom!

Blessings

I know that I've mentioned my "mommy board" here before, but today I am once again reminded of what a huge part it plays in my life.

One of the girls I post with in a more private forum suffered a house fire last night. Her home is a total loss. Her husband is recovering from burns, her children are singed and scared, and she had to run through the flames with her son in her arms. They lost their dog. They lost everything they owned. This morning they wathced their house burn to the ground, with nothing but the pajamas they were wearing, and each other.

My heart aches for this woman that I have never met. She is my friend, despite the fact that we've only exchanged typewritten words on a message board filled with hundreds (if not thousands) of other women. In an online community filled with funny and sometimes crude user names, she's just another poster. But she is my friend.

Mommy boards are interesting places. They can be like sorority houses - cliquey and snotty and exclusive. Sometimes in a lull they like to invade other mommy boards and stir the pot for fun. They can be silly and catty. But they can also be places to learn. They are places to find advice. This one has been there for me through the birth of three children, through the death of a sister-in-law and a father, and through job changes and a cross country move. They have encouraged me when I have been ready to call it quits with breastfeeding, when I was ready to throw up my hands at potty training, and they didn't laugh at my tears when my oldest started school. They are moms too - they understand.

And they are places that can reach out in the most astounding ways.

Several years ago, Skippy and I were both laid off not too long before the holidays. We had a brand new baby. We were both scared. One day, a one hundred dollar gift card showed up in the mail - some of the moms on my board had chipped in to make our holidays a little easier. I will never forget that simple, unexpected kindness. They were there for me.

The night my parents left my house after telling me that my Dad had cancer, I cried on my husband's shoulder. Then I had a drink. Then I got on my mommy board. And again, they were there for me.

When I needed emergency surgery because of an ectopic pregnancy, Skippy signed on and gave my online friends the scoop. And once again, they helped get me through - they were there for me.

Today, the donations are already being gathered. Clothes and toys, restaurant cards and gas money, gift certificates and cash - it's all being sent to this one woman - a woman who isn't even a face on a message board - she's just another name; a fun, sassy, shining personality. She's a woman who needs help. Another Mom. Another friend.

My thoughts and prayers continue to be with you sweetie. And to that mommy board, I am so proud to be a part of your community. I am blessed to have you all in my life.

We fought the lawn.....

And the lawn won.

Ouch. At least it won from the perspective that today I can't sit down. I couldn't really sit down (or walk, or um, MOVE) yesterday either but I still sucked it up and put on my big girl panties and went back outside after we spent all day Saturday helping pull up the "grass" in our front yard with our landlord.

In case you've missed it in earlier blogs, I hate the house that we rent. It's small and cramped and all I do is sit in it and think of all of the minor ways our landlord could improve it - with HIS money. Because I'm not spending MY money to do it. But a big point of contention has been the front yard. Because despite the size issues with the house, it sits on a double lot and is completely fenced it. That is nice because it keeps the kids somewhat contained. I mean, forget the dog, just contain my kids. We live on a fairly busy street so that fence is important in a multitude of ways. But the yard.....

Let's put it this way. We had more crabgrass and clover than we did anything else. It was a mess of weeds, prickles, and new cross species of who knows what other kind of vegetation. And I mean really, who wants to sit outside in a crappy yard? Not me man.

So I've been pestering my landlord about it for awhile and finally, he caved. I have that effect on people because I'm freakishly persistent. Or maybe I just get bitchy. I'll have to ask Skippy, LOL. But anyway, the catch was that he would do it, but we were going to help. Little did we know that it would take all weekend. Our weekends have been stretched thin lately. Three weekends ago everything revolved around the Chunk's birthday party. Then last weekend, some dear and wonderful friends threw some other dear and wonderful (pregnant) friends the unisex family friendly baby shower to end all baby showers, complete with no less than eighteen dozen cupcakes. Of all of the more recent weekends that one has been my favorite because all I had to do was show up with two dozen frosted cupcakes in hand and my perfectly groomed and well behaved brood in tow.

At least I managed to get the cupcakes frosted. The brood....well let's just say that they were there. But K & A know how to throw a party that's for sure. And when all was said and done, I was really looking forward to sitting on my big old butt this weekend and enjoying the sunshine that was forecast. But instead I got turned into a landscaper extraordinaire.

So Saturday the landlord rented a sod cutter - it's basically a huge bread knife for grass. And I will say, watching Skippy and Landlord try to work the damn thing was high entertainment on a Saturday. But man, it was 83 here that afternoon. And after six hours of cutting, rolling, moving, hauling, and swearing at rolls of prickly dry icky grass in the sun, we were beat. And burned. And tired. Then yesterday we started all over again, ripping up the rest, and then tilling the whole mess, raking it by hand, and finally.....FINALLY getting the seed down.

Now it had better flippin' grow. That's all I'm sayin'. Because my shoulders are killing me. And my legs. And my butt.

Grow grass. GROW.

New friends....or OLD friends?

Hmmmmmmmmmmm

Yesterday the kiddos and I drove into Portland and met up with some mommy friends and all of their assorted kiddos at OMSI. It was pretty wild because I was meeting up with two other moms that I have technically known for six years or so, but who I have never met.

When I was pregnant with Banana, my old college roommate (Hi Tracey!) was a member of an online pregnancy and child rearing support board called storknet. She got me completely and totally hooked on the pregnancy forums. I was in a "storkclub" with a bunch of other women from all over, and we were all due to have babies in the same three month time period. We talked about everything, from child rearing to cravings to insomnia. Very tight bonds began to form - we gave each other support with the good and the bad, and we helped to calm each other's fears or to give support when someone got less-than-great news. We depended on each other. And when the babies came, we all moved on to a whole new adventure - some of us with our first child, some of us with our second, third, or even fourth. But most of us stayed in touch.

Then when Banana was about three or four months old, I was having a really difficult time nursing her. I was desperate and frantic for support - a brand new first time mama who really didn't have a clue what I was doing. (God if I had only known then what I know now, but that's a whole different rant.) Anyway, I started looking on other online communities and made some new "friends" and received great advice from one other board in particular (which shall remain unnamed, LOL). When I found out that several of the mommies from my original storkclub had also migrated over to the new place, I was hooked.

So for six years, I have talked to these women almost daily. They were there for me when my second and third babies were born. They were sweet and wonderful when we had a miscarriage, and again when we had a dangerous ectopic. When my Dad got sick, they were some of the first people I turned to for help, for prayers, and for tears. They know about all of my struggles and all of my victories, and a few of them are counted among my closest friends.

So to meet two of them in person yesterday was a blast. It was a little bit like a blind date. I was nervous! But when all was said and done it was fun and surreal and just a general hoot. It was like seeing old friends for the first time. Hell, that's exactly what it was. We went to OMSI and took the kids out for pizza and when we got into the van to head home much MUCH later than I ever could have imagined, I realized how much I depend on my mommy-board friends. But now to put faces and hugs with those user names....well that's really neat.

My brilliant little scholar

Today Banana brought home a behavior slip. Cue ominous music: *da da da dummmmmmmmm*

She got it because she was talking during class time. And talking during circle time. And talking during patterns. And talking during handwriting.

The kid chatters like a blue jay. There's no stopping her.

(Somewhere my Mother is laughing because I'm sure that *my* little girl sounds just like *another* little girl my Mom once knew. Just desserts indeed.)

So Banana was warned. And then she was moved. And then she was warned again. And then she was moved again. And then she had to put her head down on the desk. And then she got morning recces taken away.

And she would.not.stop.talking.

Apparently she was still going strong when it was time for patterns. That's when Ms. G claps a pattern and then the kids clap it back to her. Way intense Kindergarten work ya know?

So all through patterns Banana is discussing nuclear physics and Hannah Montana and who knows what else and finally Ms. G had really just about had enough.

(She's laughing while she's telling me this story, and I pretty much just want to duct tape my kids' jaw at this point.)

So finally in the middle of patterns, Ms. G is fed up and she snaps "BANANA W!"

Well Banana's head snapped right up.

She stopped talking.

And the damn kid clapped the damn pattern.

*snort* Little monkey.

My dinnertime dilemma

I seriously don't know what my problem is. Lately I cannot seem to make an adequate meal plan for the week to save my life.

Here's the deal: At least for the time being, I am a stay at home Mom. That means that every day I attempt to clean my house. I chase my kids around. I let the dog out, change diapers, do my best to keep banshee screaming to a minimum. Last but not least, every night I make an effort to perform feats in the kitchen that result in a nutritious and filling meal for my family. Except sometimes on Wednesdays. That's dollar ninety nine kids meal night at KFC. I know. Barf-o-rama. But seriously people - I can't FEED my kids the same amount of food that they get for a buck ninety nine at KFC on Wednesdays, and at least I'm not overrun with McDonald's toys.

But anyway, back to dinner. I'm having major meal anxiety. First of all, I'm one of those freaks who likes to grocery shop. Dare I say it, but I enjoy it. Yes I had toys when I was a child. Be nice. I just like going to the grocery store - especially when the girl-offspring are both at school. Then it's like a vacation. I peruse the meat department and I can practically smell the grill. I meander through produce and envision brightly colored salads, and smiling happy children who always eat their vegetables. Or I walk past the margarita mixers and imagine myself on a beach, where the stock boy Jon stops shelving grape juice long enough to become Javier, the cabana boy who hovers anxiously at my elbow waiting for me to finish one umbrella clad drink so that he can fulfill his sole purpose in life, to get me a new one.

Then the baby usually knocks over a display of something terribly embarrassing, like a tower Kotex and I come back to Earth and scurry away to go stock up on yogurt or something equally practical, but the bottom line is that I like to grocery shop.

I love getting a good deal and I can usually find one, in part because I'm a tightwad like my Dad was and in part because I'm addicted to The Grocery Game. (check it out: www.grocerygame.com - use me as a referral if you sign up) Our deep freezer is currently full of frozen shrimp meat, flank steaks, ground pork and ground beef, pot roast Italian sausage, hamburgers, chicken breasts, and a small turkey.

I have no idea what to do with any of it.

Seriously. It's really sad, but I feel like I just keep on making the same five or six meals over and over. I wake up in the morning and one of the first thoughts in my head is "crap what am I going to make for dinner tonight?" I'm having some major culinary issues here people. It doesn't have to be fancy. Or expensive. Or gourmet. I honestly couldn't care less. I just want it to taste good and not be the exact same thing we ate last week. And I want my family to enjoy it. In fact, recently when I told Skippy's mom that her son has gotten much better at complimenting my cooking, he replied over shoulder, "You've gotten better at cooking!" So I suppose that's something. I used to be way too intimidated to try a new recipe, or to make something completely from scratch. If it didn't come out of a box, I wasn't sure what to do with it.

But I appear to be in a rut. I'm attempting to plan meals at least a week in advance, and I find myself sitting at the table with my pen poised over my list, and I'm just writing the same things over and over.

So here's where you all come in. Yes, the ten faithful people who read my blog, LOL. I need some help. Ya'll need to email this blog to your friends, your moms, your personal chefs, whatever and then everyone needs to send me some recipes at freckledmama@gmail.com because this old apron-wearing dog obviously needs some new tricks. Skippy is a whiz in the kitchen (he's even learned to clean up his own messes, double bonus!) but his hours don't let him have much time to cook at home during the week. So give me some new ideas. Email me an old family favorite, or get that recipe from a friend that you've been dying to try out yourself and pass it along.

All I ask is that it's fairly easy, uses ingredients that I can find in Safeway, and isn't full of too much processed crap. After all, I DO feed my kids KCF once a week.

Help a gal out, would ya?

What's that smell?

*sniff*

It's big soft pretzels....

*sniff sniff*

And caramel corn....and fountain soda.

*snifffffffffff*

It's an ice skating rink.

*SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF*

Oh - and it's clothes. New clothes hanging on racks under fluorescent lights that have never been worn. Clothes that still have creases in them from their shipping boxes. Clothes that are from THIS season.

It's the smell......of the mall.

Be still my heart.


Last week a girlfriend and I had had enough. Despite the fact that we both love our nice little town in the middle-of-nowhere Oregon, we needed to take a road trip. And what better way to get out of town than to go to the mall. We are female and therefore, we shop. It's a deep seeded primal need that sometimes cannot be ignored.

And I have a minivan. Sweet.

In theory, it was a great idea. Get out of town for the day, have some lunch, and shop till we dropped right?

Um. Kinda.

In reality it was more like a roller coaster with no brakes. After a beautiful hour long ride into Portland, full of girlie chatter while our angelic cherubs blissfully napped away secure in their car seats and safely strapped into my van enjoying ample leg room, we unloaded all the kids and attacked Lloyd Center.

My sincere apologies to Lloyd Center.

That's two mommies, four children under age five, and a butt load of insanity. On the outside, I bet we looked pretty dang organized - kids holding hands, baby in the stroller, everyone happy and chattering. But from the inside (the eye of the storm, if you will), it was like a hurricane. We were like one of those storms of the century that you always see meteorologists drooling about - the ones that make any self respecting weatherman's eyes gleam - a huge slow-moving mass full of barely contained fury, steadily creeping in to systematically devour everything in our path with complete and unrestrained chaos. People scattered in our wake, running to the safety of Mrs. Fields with reckless abandon. The sales staff at Ross hid behind the counter, huddled trembling in tornado position until we were safely past. The ice skaters twirled and whizzed out of our range. And the poor young kids offering free samples of hand lotion obviously had a death wish.

But damn it, we had fun.

Just to be in a mall - a REAL mall was so worth it.

Oregon is beautiful. The trees are huge. The mountains are breathtaking. The waterfalls and the rivers and the panoramic landscape that greets me every morning is stunning.

But dear Lord - sometimes I just miss the mall. Thank you Almighty, for the Lloyd Center. I'm just happy that once we left, it was still standing.

Is that for ME?

Is that REALLY for me?

No seriously, isn't that the expression on his face in that picture? He's like, "Oh Wow, you're going to give that to me? All for me? Really? It's not pureed squash? disguised as a cupcake?"



Anyway, it really happened. At four o'clock on Saturday afternoon my baby boy turned one. A week of birthday party angst all turned out in the end, but man am I glad it's over.




If you've read my earlier blogs, you know that we had a party at the park planned for Saturday. We have this wonderful park nearby way up the hill with awesome views of both mountains and a kick ass playground, plus a big covered picnic shelter with tables, electrical outlets, and a massive stone fireplace. We figured it would be perfect. After all, last year the week before the Chunk was born I was outside in big old pregnant shortalls (yeah, I know it's a funny visual, stop laughing and read) and I was planting flowers. And sweating. Because it was hot enough to wear shorts. And panting. Because I was two thousand weeks pregnant. So we thought that a park party would be rockin'.

Fast forward a year to this past Friday when snowflakes the size of silver dollars were sheeting down from the sky. Oh was I ever a basket case. But we sucked it up and changed our plans and moved the party to the W house, with an "open house" style vibe and lots of food and cupcakes. And in the end, it all worked out just fine. Slightly claustrophobic and lots of fun. I had dreamed of a huge sheet cake in the shape of a number one. You know, cuz he's one and that's cool and that's just how we roll. (See the November blogs for pictures of Kbear's cool bowling alley cake!) But instead I went with cupcakes. I bought cute little boy decorations and Skippy made blue frosting and we just made the best of it.






In the end I think it came out okay, don't you?





The Chunk was an angel. I swear he is the world's most mellow baby. Despite being completely overwhelmed by the sheer amounts of people, blue cupcakes, and sparkly wrapped boxes and bags, he was his sweet smiling self. And the kid likes cupcakes. A LOT.


So anyway, my baby boy isn't such a baby anymore. And every time something around here happens I'm reminded that we have fabulous friends. No one cared that my house wasn't 100% clean or that they had to step on six pairs of toes to get to the bathroom. They all just came out anyway to wish our sweet boy a happy day. And THAT made it a very happy day.


So yet another W birthday party bites the dust. To those of you who took the time to come over and hang out, thank you so much for being a part of our day! For those loved ones who live in places near and far and couldn't join us, we missed you and love you!

Some of our pictures from the day (including a frame by frame display of Chunk's cupcake destroying skills) are here: http://picasaweb.google.com/freckledmama/ChunkSBday

One year ago

I was the size of a house.

My maternity pants were tight.

I was tired. My back hurt. I couldn't ever sleep.

I was STILL PREGNANT. Hell I was thirty seven MONTHS pregnant. Or at least it felt that way.

A year ago I was at the end of a rough week. I was having my blood pressure monitored. I had sciatica. I had a small human being inside my belly constantly doing back flips, throwing wild parties, and redecorating my ribcage.

I was miserable.

A year ago I went to the doctor and told her that something didn't feel right, beyond the normal pregnancy woes. She ran some tests and promptly sent me over to labor and delivery.

It was time to have a baby.

It's hard to believe a year has gone by. My Little Man has changed my life in so many ways.

At four o'clock tomorrow afternoon, my baby will be one. Happy Birthday darling boy!

Birthday Party Angst

This Saturday afternoon we've rented the picnic shelter at the local park for the Chunk's first birthday party. I realized early on that we were taking a chance with the weather but I figured that it would all work out one way or another. There is just nowhere in this little town to host a proper birthday party if you don't do it at home and I absolutely refuse to do it here at the rental, with its cramped rooms and horrible yard. And I am just adamantly against going to the local pizza joint (Spooky's) like everyone else because every party I have attended there has been hot and crowded with overpriced food and inattentive staff. Plus when I called to get information (as a last ditch effort to find an appropriate indoor party location) the girl I talked to gave me a hard time about letting the Chunk tear into a piece of birthday cake, because I think we can all assume he's going to make a mess - that is after all, the whole point.

I realize I'm coming across as a snob about all this. I can't help it. If it's my biggest flaw, I can live with it.

So anyway, now I'm stressing out. Last night the snow levels were down to 1000 feet. We didn't get any of the white crap here in the Gorge, but the fact that we feasibly could have has me on the verge of breaking out in hives. And now there's a chance of rain that day.

Now, we'll be under a roof and there is a huge stone fireplace that we can load up so I'm not sure why I'm having a mini panic attack, but I think that's just how I am - I get this picture in my head of the way my baby's first birthday is supposed to be and of course, it won't go anything like I imagined. I do realize that this doesn't mean that it won't be fantastic - of course it will be. It's just going to be different from what I had in my own little Amy world inside my own noggin. A bunch of people already have plans and commitments that day, and most of the little kids we know already have other things going on, which really bums me out.

All of that aside, we have a fabulous group of friends, neighbors, family, and coworkers that ARE coming and I know that it will be a special day for Chunk. After all, you only turn one once. Maybe I'm just emotional. I can't believe how fast the year has flown by. My baby's not going to be such a baby anymore!

*sigh* I just want my baby to have a nice party. I don't think that's too much to ask. And it better not frickin' snow or I swear I'll have a breakdown.

Spring break, day four thousand fifty seven

Ok, not really. It just feels that way. We're really on day two. TWO people. And they have already made me mildly insane.


Today we are playing with homemade sidewalk paint. Why give Crayola all of our hard-earned cash when I can make my own for free? Check it out!

And before you ask, it's a quarter cup each of cornstarch and water, with six to ten drops of food coloring. Wear old shirts because I assume the food coloring stains.

Later we're going to clean the girls' bedroom. I'm going to go crawl into a corner and suck my own thumb for awhile now.

Hoppy Easter to one and all!

The W Family wishes you and yours a very HAPPY Easter!

May your blessings be counted and your baskets be full of candy!

New pictures of the kids are up! They can be seen at http://picasaweb.google.com/freckledmama

Ack! I'm behind on my blogging - Aunt Jax's visit, part three

Ok, I've got to wrap this up because otherwise I'll completely miss blogging about Easter tomorrow and I'll be behind on blogging about my baby boy's last week of being a baby! He turns ONE in just a week.

So anyway, the bottom line is that the coast was a blast. It was exhausting but I am so happy that we decided to do it because we had an insane amount of fun. We spent the next few days hanging out close to home. We went to have hippie pizza in Washington, we drove out to get a look at Mt Hood (it wasn't cooperating but it was still fun), we went to my favorite thrift store, we grocery shopped, and we stayed up way too late. When it was time to take Jax back to the airport on Wednesday, we all felt like it had gone way too fast but I think we really made the most of the time we had to hang out. This visit was different for us - I got to show Jax my world - instead of the world I was thrust into, wandering around like a stranger in a strange land like the last time she came to visit.


Here's a few things I learned:

~ An umbrella stroller starts to sink in wet sand if you don't keep it moving.

~ When it rains at the coast, that really IS part of the charm!

~ Jacquie has gotten much better at trying new food over the years - she tried not only clam chowder but marionberry cobbler while she visited. And she liked my potato soup!

~ Sneaker waves really DO exist - when we waded out for our picture op, we only meant to get wet up to the ankles. Little did we know that our foray into the ocean was perfectly timed to get hit by a sneaker wave that left me wet to the knees and necessitated a change of pants for Jax.

~ My husband cannot be counted on to save me in the event of a tidal wave. When the aforementioned sneaker wave hit us, he screamed like a girl and ran away, abandoning my shoes in the process - and he was already 20 feet further up the beach to begin with!

~ Going to the Seaside Aquarium is an experience. When you purchase a "bag of seal food" for one dollar, you shouldn't feel surprised when they hand you a cardboard "boat" full of cut up fish pieces, complete with slime and googly eyes.

~ Seals splash when they are hungry. Just ask Skippy.

~ Seals also look really cute when they are behind a fence. Keep in mind that on the beach, they will eat your face off without a second thought.

~ The only time you EVER want to hear anyone (especially your own child) say that they have crabs is when they are at the touch tank at an aquarium. Any other time and you'd better get to a doctor, stat.

~ Jacquie and I can't drink like we used to. We didn't even try.

~ We also can't stay up late like we used to, although Lord knows we did try.

~ We are all getting old. How depressing.

~ The Chunk LOVES Burgerville chocolate shakes in his sippy cup. He gets VERY irritated when there is no more which may or may not require you to vacate the premises.

~ My dog pays no attention to the rules when we are away. The dog hair all over Skippy's recliner is a testament to her naughtiness.

~ Queen sized beds have apparently gotten smaller. Because I have absolutely no idea how Skippy and I slept on one before we got our King. The one and only possible solution is that we're all the victims of a cruel and vast conspiracy headed up by mattress companies.

~ Nothing will clear out a Subway faster than discreetly nursing your baby under a jacket. Ok, maybe that was purely coincidental but I felt like I had the plague. Seriously, it was embarassing even if it was all in my head.

~ Jax and I apparently wear the same bra size.

~ If you have an opportunity to visit a cheese factory and eat "squeaky cheese" then by all means, do it.

~ Not everyone is as infatuated with my thrift store as I am.

~ I have an irrational attachment to my minivan after a three hour road trip in it with tired sandy kids.

And last but not least:
~ There is a reason Jacquie is in my life. There is a reason she is in my kids' lives and that she and Skippy are still so close. I would not be the same person without her. We love you babe.

Aunt Jax invades Oregon, part two

Once we had the ocean in sight there was no stopping us. We drove straight to Cannon Beach and promptly parked by Mo's (more about THAT yummyness later), put everyone into their beach shoes, and headed for the water.

We decided ahead of time not to tell Jax that the water was REALLY cold. The problem is that I myself forgot just how cold it really is. So when she and I headed into the surf to get a picture, I thought I'd get a good chuckle when she put her toes in but little did I know that I would scream like a girl when it hit my feet too.

Anyway, there we are in the water like a couple of ding dongs.
<---------------------


We played down on the beach for a bit and then we decided it was lunchtime. Jax had to experience Mo's clam chowder. It is after all one of the things that convinced me a long time ago that I could live in Oregon. And I don't even REALLY like clam chowder. Unless it's at Mo's.

So we ate. Oh god did we eat. In the summertime you'll wait for two hours just to get in the door of the place but on a Saturday in March, we were able to get a table right away - a big circle spot right up against two windows looking down at the beach. We watched the waves crash and the dogs run and laughed while it rained on one side of the restaurant but not on the other and we absolutely stuffed ourselves full of clam chowder and grilled cheese sammiches. Jacquie was fascinated by the waves, and they were putting on quite a show. It was awesome.



After lunch we were way too bloated to go down back on the beach so we piled back into the van and headed South on Hwy 101. Hwy 101 has to be my absolute favorite drive on the planet. It's absolutely stunning. We stopped at viewpoints, read historical markers, and took pictures.

It was all fine and dandy until we found ourselves at a major impasse.

Skippy had realized that we were less than 20 miles from the Tillamook cheese factory. If you've never had Tillamook cheese, you are missing out big time. Not all cheese is created equal and this is some damn good stuff. Don't get me started on the ice cream. Chunk demanded gallon containers of Tillamook peanut butter and chocolate ice cream every three days while he was in utero, and my ass is still paying the price. But it's soooooooo good.

Skippy wanted to go. He had that classic kid-in-a-candy store bounce behind the wheel and that gleam in his eye that tells me I'm in trouble. You don't come between Skippy and cheese. However being the sensible one in this marriage (God help us), I said it was silly to drive that far, that they probably wouldn't be open, etc and to turn the purple people eater around, stat.

Skippy, being Skippy, continued to trek South. I pleaded and begged and cajoled. I eventually convinced him to at least look up the number and CALL to see if they were open, only for us to realize that even though the iPhone can fold your laundry and is licensed to perform weddings, even it cannot get a signal in the middle of the Oregon coastal forest. So we drove.

And the damn cheese factory was open. And (dare I say it?) it was FUN.

I'm not sure what Jax thought of that part of our trip. I'm pretty confident that she never imagined that a trip to the cheese factory was on the agenda when she booked her flight and we said, "Hey! We'll take you to the coast!" But she was a good sport and I think we all actually had a lot of fun. We bought cheese and had ice cream, and then finally jumped back on 101 and headed back the way we came, North to Seaside. Once we checked into our hotel we promptly swam, ordered pizza, and passed out.

Sunday brought more fun in Seaside. The sun was peeking out from behind the clouds and we shopped, bought saltwater taffy, and hid from one brief downpour by riding bumper cars and the tilt-a-whirl. The most unique thing we did was feed the seals at the Seaside Aquarium, but I'll blog more on that later. We rode the merry-go-round. We took pictures. And finally, after lunch the Chunk was worn out so Skippy took him back to the van while us girls went beach combing one last time. We found shells, sand dollars, and one lonely crab who was either thankful or terrified that two little girls came along and flipped him back over the right way.

Filthy, sandy, and exhausted, we made our way back to the purple people eater and at long last, hit the road for home. Our mission to show Jax at least a little bit of the Oregon coast was complete. After a quick detour to see the views and the column in Astoria (where I dissovled into gales of giggles when I read the sign at the Holiday Inn Express "Where sleeping under the bridge is a good thing!") we arrived home a little bit before nine on Sunday night, greeted a very happy Bailey dog, got three very tired kids into bed, and collapsed. The beach was a hit.

I'll get part three up tomorrow. I think I'm still catching up on sleep myself because right now, I'm sleepy.

Aunt Jacquie's visit, part one

Last Friday evening we packed up our minivan, tossed the kids into their seats in between sleeping bags, beach shoes, and fourteen diaper bags, and hit the road for Portland. We were very excited - my very best girlfriend in the world (who Skippy and I have known since college) was due to land a little later that evening for a spring break visit.

So off we went, counting waterfalls along the way and explaining for the ten bazillionth time why no drinks were allowed in the Purple People Eater. We finally rolled into PDX just about ten minutes ahead of Jax's plane so we parked and ran inside, where the joyous reunion unfolded at about eight o'clock, complete with hugs all around and ear splitting shrieks of joy from my girls that I seriously thought might bring PDX security running. After a quick stop to grab her luggage, we headed out the door.

(Quick side note, Jax had a pair of shoes in the front zipper pocket of her suitcase when she boarded her plane in Chicago. By the time she got to Portland, the zipper had been opened and the shoes were missing. So to Mr. TSA Man somewhere in Chicago or Oakland who is now cross dressing my best friend's heels - shame on you, you pervert.)

Anyway, Jacquie's Chicago-zonked stomach was clamoring for food, so our next stop brought us to Burgerville. I would love to say it was because we wanted the first meal of her visit to be something genuinely Oregon-like but in all honesty, it's because it was the first spot we saw in a not-so-great part of the city that wasn't horrible fast food, was open, and had a well-lit parking lot. Plus they have awesome fries and milkshakes. We ate and we gabbed and then we hightailed it to our hotel for a late night swim, chucked the kids into their sleeping bags, gabbed a bit more, and promptly passed out. Kind of. As well as you can pass out in a hotel room with three adults and three kids when two of the adults snore, two of the kids talk in their sleep, and the baby insists on continuously popping up in his pack-and-play like a meerkat on speed for three hours. Good times. It's a miracle Jacquie goes anywhere with us, I swear. Somewhere around three a.m. she was probably wondering what the hell she had been thinking.

But Saturday morning we were up bright and early, ready to greet the day at about eight after a restless but adequate night's sleep. Jax and I took the kids for a surprisingly fabulous breakfast in the hotel (where Skippy not so surprisingly slept in a bit) and I'll be damned if everyone wasn't on their best behavior. After we filled our bellies, we took a swim and then packed up the van and finally said good-bye to Portland, heading down to road towards the coast at about eleven.

I must stop for yet another brief side note here, because I was very proud of myself this weekend for not being an insane minute-by-minute micro manager. When you have three small kids and a husband who works long hours, things like schedules and structure help keep you sane. And when I plan something and it doesn't go my way or we get off schedule, I get cranky. Like, crazy eyes hate the world cranky. It drives Skippy nuts. And I'm trying to be better. Sometimes you have to just say forget it and go with the flow - life's too short and all that jazz. So when we didn't roll out of town until the morning was practically gone, I didn't worry. The sun was peeking through the clouds in between intermittent periods of rain, everything was green, the kids were being good, and I had my husband next to me and my best friend in the car. Plus we were heading for the coast. Life was good.

After about an hour and a half of driving, the trees started to thin out a bit. We crested yet another hill and off in the distance there it was - Jax's first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean.

Time for the baby to nap. I'll be back later!

And she's leavin' on a jet plane

Don't know when she'll be back again. Major bummer.

Jacquie's visit went WAY too fast. But holy crap did we have fun. We packed a bunch of stuff into five little days, including a trip to the beach (that's Jax with the kids at Haystack Rock in Cannon Beach), plus a trip to the cheese factory (no, really) and a road trip over to Washington. I can't wait to blog all about it when we get home from the airport later today. But for now, we're busy getting her all packed up before we head over to the Goog for lunch so I'll just say travel safe girlfriend, and we love you!

Girlfriends

<----- See that? That's my wedding day. I mean obviously it's my wedding day, because me and my girlfriends don't usually just get dressed up in white dresses and carry flowers around the house, pausing for obviously posed photos. We need at least three margaritas on a boring Tuesday night before we get that crazy. Anyway, that chick on the right is my bestest girlfriend in the world.

Tomorrow the wonderful, sweet, generous, and fabulous "Aunt Jax" is coming to visit.

Jacquie and I have been best friends for ten years now. Damn, we're old. We were RAs together. She was my Maid of Honor with her badass Little Bo Peep hairdo. She was in the delivery room when Banana was born - she VIDEOTAPED! - And she STILL loves me!

Unfortunately airfare dictates that our visit is a short one, but we're going to make the most of it. The last time she came to see me, I had a new baby and I wasn't too sure about Oregon yet. But now....now I think she'll be able to see how happy this place makes me. Hopefully we'll have time to see some friends but mostly we're just going to catch up and hang out.

Her plane gets in at 7:15 tomorrow night and the purple minivan will be there waiting! From there we're going to overnight in Portland and then head to the coast on Saturday morning. The weather isn't supposed to be great, but that's the coast in the spring in Oregon. At least we'll be able to say that we went and got our feet wet. And we'll go to Mo's. Because you have to go to Mo's when you go to the coast, even if you don't like clam chowder.

We'll probably come home on Sunday and then it will be back to the grind - school for the girls, and bumming around town for Miss Jax and myself. Maybe we'll go get hippie pizza. Or get our toenails done. Or go thrift store shopping. Or make some fruity girlie drinks.

Or just enjoy being together. Love you girl! Travel safe!