Oops

I haven't blogged in over two weeks. Lots of stuff going on and a bit of shit hit the fan. But everyone is fine and I will update soon. Like this week.

Lots of love from the W family.

It's the second Sunday in May...

( First of all, more kudos to Denise over at Photosensitive Portraits in Hood River. http://www.photosensitiveportraits.com/ )



Happy Mommy Day!

To all of you who have ever found cookie crumbs in your bed, pretzels in the couch, and a Cheerio in your bra....

To all of you who have felt the bone chilling fear when you have to call your child one too many times in the department store, only to have them pop out of a clothes rack right next to you...

To all of you who go grocery shopping for from-scratch-all-organic-locally grown groceries for dinner and then take your kids to McDonald's for lunch...

Happy Mother's Day.


To those of you who have found yourself shivering in the cold at soccer practice,

Scrambling for a pre-school snack that everyone will eat,

Or planning a spring birthday party with a frocast of snow...

Who find yourselves
Going to PTA...
Going on field trips...
Going to dance recitals....
And going crazy in general...

Happy Mother's Day.


To all of you who know the joy of a child sleeping on your chest,

Who know the torture of pregnancy heartburn, insomnia, and stretchmarks.

All of you who have accidentally kicked the dog when trying to latch on a new baby to nurse,

And all of you who have yelled "WHERE IN THE HELL IS MY DAMN EPIDURAL?"

Happy Mother's Day.


To all of you who have struggled to juggle a career and parenthood, your boss and your family,

All of you who stay home and lose the laundry battle on a daily basis,

To those of you who can't remember the last time you had a pedicure,

And all of you who don't care,

Happy Mother's Day.


Here's to all of you vomit-moppers,

You butt-wipers,

And you magical owie kissers,

Enjoy your day today.

To my girlfriends who wrestle children of their own, having you in my life makes me a better Mom; you sympathize with my trials, celebrate my victories, and help me on this path that I love struggling on down. I am thankful for each and every one of you for making me feel normal. Most of the time.


And to the most important Moms in our lives...

Happy Mother's Day to Dixie. There will *always* be potato soup for you when you come to visit! You may be my mother-in-law but more importantly, you are my friend.

And to my own Mama...I don't know how I got so lucky. Even now you teach me so much. You are my personal heroine. My confidant, and my best friend.

Geez, THE END ALREADY!

Writing out my blogs of Mom's visit has been an exercise in writing the longest blogs EVER. Oh my GAWD.

We're going to make this short and sweet. Saturday the Cherry Fest rocked. Sunday we all slept in a little bit more than usual and then we picked up Mom and Jack, plus their luggage and the eight thousand six hundred, and fifty four tshirts and other assorted souvenirs that they bought while they were out here, and we headed to Portland with the whole kit n' caboodle.

Per Jack's request, we went in search of Otto's Sausage Kitchen - they make and sell one of the top ten hot dogs in the country. Their t-shirts say so. I know because my Mom bought tshirts for Jack and Skippy and myself. Good stuff.

Then we went to OMSI. We have a family membership so it was well worth a couple of hours just hanging out. Mom treated us all to a laser show in the planetarium (by that I mean she paid for tickets, not that she actually controlled the lasers) and that was a lot of fun. It was set to music and really pretty dang neat. Banana danced, Kbear stared, and the Chunk fell asleep.

After OMSI we made a quick stop at POWELL'S BOOKS - it deserves all caps. Trust me. And finally, we went to dinner and made our way to Mom and Jack's hotel where we said good-bye. I only cried a little bit. It really wasn't too bad this time because we were already making plans to be in Chicago this summer. So we gave hugs all around and finally, after six days of jam packed family fun, we headed home.

Love you guys and miss you already! It was a blast!

Ok, this is it: Mom's visit, part four: The Weekend

I'm going to finish this if it kills me. Sitting here and writing it all out has made me realize how much we squeezed into six very short days. Holy cow man.

So Friday brought us Show and Tell, lunch at Google, and fun and awesome pictures of the kids in Hood River. I think we wrapped things up pretty early that night because we knew that Saturday would be busy - it was Cherry Fest Day.

The Cherry Festival is honestly a heck of a lot of fun. Busy and crowded and chaotic and fun. This year Skippy was even able to join us for the parade and we sat with some other Goog friends so that was a blast.



The parade is looooong. There's floats for every business in town, rodeo queens, one group of drag queens (no, seriously), churches and organizations and politicians and you name it - it takes about two hours. And before it starts, there is a motorcycle rally type ride where all of the bikers donate a stuffed animal to local hospitals and children's organizations and then ride the parade route - this year there was almost 2000 bikes! Talk about noise! Pretty dang cool though.

Mom and Jack seemed to enjoy the parade - mostly I think they enjoyed watching it with the kids. Even the Chunk was into it - the girls had more fun waving at everyone and scavenging for the thrown candy in search of tootsie rolls for daddy, but it was still a blast.

After the parade we decided to attack the street fair. There's food and crafts and kids' stuff - you name it, it's down there. Skippy had to work the Google booth later in the afternoon, so we just hit a few things before we decided to head up the hill for a break and a nap before coming back down. First we made a mad dash to find Chunk a bike helmet - the hospital gives them out for free every year but they go fast. We did find one - it's pink, but it fits his little Chunker noggin so now I'm hoping to get his bike seat mounted on my bike so we can start cruising around town.



Then each of the girls got to do one thing. So while Skippy and Banana waited in line, I took K to shoot the fire hose. Is she cute or what?













When she was done and happy, (which took all of five minutes, my Kbear is easy to please) we went in search of Banana and Daddy over at the rock climbing wall.


Yup. *sigh* The rock climbing wall.


Here she is getting ready to go






Fearless little monkey isn't she?
















Once Banana's feet were safely back on the ground (where I myself prefer them to be) we left Mom and Jack (who I think were in need of a break) and trekked up the hill and homeward for short naps and a break from the sun.



Around three, we hit the fair hard again. Skippy was hard at work signing people up for gmail and picasa, showing them google maps (god I love me some google maps) and generally being at one with his geek-ness. Mom and Jack and the kids and I strolled the fair for a little while longer and along the way, Mom talked me into letting the girls get their faces painted. I had been avoiding the booth because well....it's expensive as hell for a bit of paint.

But come on, it was Nana's treat and you can't tell me that THIS wasn't worth it. (that was taken later at the carnival, but I'm getting to that.)














After all that, we were honestly pretty street faired out. It was time to say good-bye to Cherry Fest and go in search of some dinner. Unfortunately Skippy was still up to his elbows in old people who wanted to know about that "new fangled Google thing" so he couldn't get away quite as quickly as we would have liked. So instead we went for a drive. I was in search of Rowena Crest Viewpoint - I had tried to find it earlier in the week without success but thanks to a phone call to my friend AmyM, this time we got lucky. Rowena Crest is pretty cool - it's just a few miles out of town and you can see all of our little city, along with a gorgeous view of the Gorge and the river. It was sunny and beautiful and well worth the fifteen minute trip up. I even got this cool picture of an old barn.


FINALLY, Skippy was done playing Google-instructor and we all went out for pizza. We were hot and sweaty and slightly sunburned. And tired. And just plain old tuckered out. So what did we do?

We went to the carnival of course!

The carnival was a hoot. And expensive hoot (rides are three bucks a piece now, what is up with THAT?) but still a hoot. We did come to the realization that Banana is pretty much officially too big for the kid rides now - as soon as we arrived she started squealing "THE TORNADO! DADDY! I WANT TO RIDE THE TORNADO!" and she wasn't having anything to do with the "baby rides" after that. Kbear and I rode some insane tilt-a-whirl like ride that seriously made me question my parenting skills - her little body was slipping all over the dang seat and I was seriously afraid she was going to go flying right now, despite her screams of pure joy and the fact that she was yelling "MAMA! I'm not scared see??? I'm LAUGHING! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I on the other hand, was scared shitless. Watching them on the merry go round was a welcome respite after that adventure. I took so many cute pictures at the carnival, and props to Jack for attempting to get pictures of us on the rides - I know it's not easy! But finally we were out of tickets and now we were even more tired, hot, sweaty and plumb tuckered out than before so we said our good-nights and dropped Mom and Jack off and did baths and bedtime stories all around. It was a good Cherry Fest. And it was hard to believe that the next day it would be time to say goodbye!

(I'll finish tonight. If I have to stay up and chug a Red Bull, I'll finish tonight!)

Mom's visit, part four: Show and Tell

Ok, first things first - see that adorable picture of my girls? The one that looks like a freakin' oil painting? That was taken during the Friday afternoon of my Mom's visit by this wonderful and amazingly energetic woman out in Hood River who was using the girls as photography models in exchange for free pictures. And since I'll always take free pictures of my kids, you can imagine how I was on cloud nine when I saw THAT! Please ignore the watermark - it's a proof. I'm sure that once I have my own copies I'll be showing them off every chance I get. So let me give a quick shoutout to Denise at Photosensitive Portraits - you rock girl!

I'm going a little bit out of order with my Friday recap. Let's see....we did the picture thing after we had lunch at The Goog. It was noisy and hectic just like it always is, but it was also prime rib day so naturally there was a crowd. Mom and Jack got to meet some more of our friends, we threw Oregon Google tshirts at them, and they got to go onto Google's campus, which roughly 99% of this town hasn't had a chance to do. So that was fun.

But before lunch, and before pictures, we had already concluded yet another adventure in our wild and crazy visit.....




After rolling into town just in time to toss tired munchkins into bed on Thursday night, I woke up bright an early at seven on Friday morning to get the Banana off to school after three days of playing hooky to hang with Nana. Before you yell at me, the kid has literally missed two other days besides these, when she had the flu. And Nana doesn't come into town every day ya know.

So anyway, I rolled Banana out of bed and shuffled her up to school. After all, I had a lot to do in the next hour - we had to be back up to the classroom in time for Banana to show and tell her choice for the week - NANA!

I picked Mom up and I could tell she was feeling nervous. We stopped at Walgreens and bought bubbles - because I mean really, what kid doesn't like bubbles? And I think she thought that would keep them from booing and hissing. As if they would have, but Mom was definitley nervous.

So with Kbear in tow to watch the performance, we hustled back up to school just in time for Ms. G to give Banana the green light - Nana was center stage.

Here's a rundown of Bree's two minute speech:




This is my Nana





She lives in Chicago (see how Mom demonstrates? Rock on with your bad self, Vanna White)





These are some pictures of me with Nana. No, you can't have bubbles yet, look at my pictures dang it. See Nana? NO! There's NO BUBBLES YET!






And finally.....














Say CHI - CAH - GO!!!!!

Mom's visit, part three: The Lighthouse

And no Seth, more of part two was just that - MORE OF PART TWO. This is part three. So there. Brat.

God I really need to wrap this up. We've been insanely busy lately but I won't even get into all of my assorted errands and fixer-up projects and the fact that every muscle in my body hurts today from bending over in the flowerbed all weekend. Remember those wooden cutouts people used to put in their yards of the little lady in the red polka dot dress with her ass sticking out for all the world to see? That was me. All weekend. Except I don't have a red polka dot dress. But anyway....

Thursday of Mom's visit was our last day at the coast. And thankfully it dawned with sunny skies and puffy clouds - at least for the time being, the rain was gone. We jumped at the opportunity to do some outside stuff and after running around all morning getting the rental house put back together (that's the only drawback to renting a house instead of doing the hotel thing - there's no maid service), we dropped in over at the Pig N' Pancake (an Oregon Coast original) for breakfast and then jumped onto South 101 heading back towards Newport.

The sunny skies held - it was breezy and cool - just right for a little hike up to Yaquina Head Lighthouse. After a quick potty stop in the visitor's station, we were ready to go!

Talk about pretty! The gorgeous weather was staying with us and a the hike to the lighthouse was just the right length, just the right grade, and perfect all around for big people and little people alike. We paused to admire the views, watched about a ZILLION birds take off from a huge rock formation, and then finally we ooooooohed and ahhhhhhed when Yaquina Lighthouse finally came into view around the bend.

Now unfortunately for Kbear, you have to be 40 inches tall in order to go up the lighthouse steps. And she was just shy of the required height. So Skippy (who wrecked his knees years ago playing baseball) volunteered to stay grounded with the Chunker's stroller and a slightly put-out K while Banana, myself, Mom and Jack made the spiralling hike up to the top.


The ascent was a little rough, I'll admit it. But the view was worth it. Banana was fascinated by the "lighthouse keeper" at the top spouting out facts and answering questions and it really WAS pretty neat to poke your head up by the big lamp and survey the view. I don't know how the Lighthouse keepers of old did it - going up and down those stairs several times a day, hauling who knows how many buckets of lamp oil with them all in the name of ocean safety. They must have had thighs of steel and great buns!

We slowly made our way down, took eight million more pictures, checked out the view from the ground level observation deck, and began the hike back to the van. And on the way, Skippy made a discovery.

Sometimes I forget that Skippy spent the majority of his childhood here in Oregon. For as long as I can remember, he has been telling me about this beach that he loved when he was little - he called it "whispering rocks" beach because instead of being covered in sand, it was made up of round black cobblestones, worn completely smooth by the ocean tides. When the tide is high and going out, it sounds like it "whispers" as the water rushes through the stones. As time has gone by, he has long since forgotten the true name of the beach, and even forgotten where it is. It's become a little bit of a personal quest to rediscover it.



Well as it turns out, the beach is actually called "cobble beach" and it is a protected nature area that is part of Yaquina's surrounding parks. As we were hiking down the hill and Skippy realized that he had found his treasured childhood location, we all backtracked and worked our way down the steps to check it out.

Now let me tell you. It was pretty damn neat. There are literally thousands of smooth black rocks, warmed by the sun and silky to the touch, just piled up on top of one another, some as big as tennis balls and others just pebbles. It's really beautiful in its own way.

The trick is walking on them. It's kind of like trying to go up the down esclator while wearing roller skates with an elephant strapped on your back. The Chunk and I (no dummies) opted to plop our tushes on the rocks - where he happily sat and banged two of them together - and watched the rest of our gang slip, skid, and otherwise work their way down to the water and the tidepools. There were a few spills but otherwise we all emerged from Cobble beach in one piece, Skippy feeling elated that he finally rediscovered one of his favorite spots and was able to share it with the kids.

At this point, we were tired. And hungry. And (dare I say it?) ready to say goodbye to the Oregon coast in favor of the Coumbia Gorge, and home. After a leisurely lunch at Mo's (home of the best clam chowder) and a quick walk on Taft beach (another special place for the W family for a multitude of reasons) we finally brushed the sand off our bottoms, organized our car snacks, took everyone to go pee, and finally hit the road for home.

And I promise, REALLY promise, to wrap this up later today! Life has been crazy lately!

More part two, more of the coast....

Wednesday morning dawned with.....well you guessed it.....more rain. Despite Mom and Jack's scoldings that I needed to stop worrying about the weather, you could tell that everyone kind of thought it sucked. I mean, rain is part of the Oregon coast. You totally expect some rain. You don't expect a dousing downpour that lasts all day and doesn't even let up long enough to let you go beach combing. That sucks no matter how you spin it.

However we persevered. After a yummy breakfast of Mom's scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruit, we headed for the Coast's shopping mecca - one of the largest outlet malls in the state. And remember folks, there's no sales tax in Oregon. Sweet. So we shopped till we dropped, had ice cream (seeing a theme yet?), mom bought the girls adorable rain coats, and we generally had a good time and even managed to say fairly dry. Then we scrunched back in the van and headed South on 101 to Newport - the Oregon Coast Aquarium was next on our agenda.

The coast aquarium is really neat. It has both indoor and outdoor exhibits and focuses mostly on sea life from around the Pacific Northwest. The bummer is that it's hard to visit the outdoor exhibits when it's pouring down rain. Which of course, it was. It did let up briefly during the seal feeding so that was nice but otherwise we spent the next few hours feeling perpetually damp and running in and out of the building trying to see everything. The kids thought it was rockin' and they didn't even seem to notice the weather, so honestly in my eyes that made it all worth it. I even managed not to shudder when the girls played with the crabs and who knows what else in the touch tank - and AGAIN, if you missed it the first time around, the one and ONLY time you ever want to hear anyone say that they have crabs is at the aquarium touch tank. Rules to live by.

After the aquarium we were honestly pretty tuckered out so we went back to our glorious little beach house and Skippy made spaghetti. The girls watched The Wizard of Oz (and giggled through my Mom's awesome dance renditions), the sofa bed tried to eat us, and everyone generally had a great evening.

Tomorrow I'll tell ya all about Thursday and our kick ass trip to THE LIGHTHOUSE. Brace yourselves folks, it just gets more and more exciting.

Mom's visit, part two: The Coast

The sun was peeking out when we left Portland, but as we headed along on our merry way Westward, the clouds started to pile up and the rain started coming down.

Mom and Jack were being really good sports about the weather, but let's face it - if you're going to the Coast, you'd much rather than sun than rain. SOME rain is expected, but not the steady shower we experienced through much of the afternoon. At least we had a stop in Tillamook planned - cheese factories are of course housed indoors and I think we were all hoping that maybe the rain would let up while we went to *BEHOLD THE POWER OF CHEESE* (Remember that commercial?)

Tillamook is pretty cool. When we went there with Jacquie, it was a weekend and the production line was shut down. But on a Tuesday the place was a hive of activity. The girls were absolutely fascinated. Hell, *I* was pretty fascinated too - it was fun to watch them slice through one hundred pound blocks of Tillamook yumminess and then watch the baby blocks go through the wrapping machine. And then of course, there's the store downstairs. Mom practically went grocery shopping. We got cheese curds and yogurt and crackers and spreads and bricks of sixteen different kinds of cheese. We could have built our own factory-direct cow. And after THAT, it was time for ice cream.


Finally, we were Tillamook'd out. I have no idea how long we were there - time inside the cheese factory runs on it's own accord, kind of like Willy Wonka's place. But eventually we made our way out the door, over-laden with cheese and tshirts and ice-cream-covered-kids, and we continued on our way to Lincoln City.

Oh. And it was still raining. Damn it all.

It took about another hour and a half to reach Lincoln City. We caught beautiful glimpses of the coastline through the downpour and played the ABC game with the girls while the baby took a sugar-crash-induced nap. I was a little nervous about what would await us in Lincoln City; it was the first time we were trying the beach house route instead of the hotel route and I didn't really know what to expect. I mean, the lady I worked with was super nice and the pictures of the place were darling but then again, there was "the Kentucky vacation" of my childhood.

Did I ever tell you about the Kentucky vacation? NO???? Let's just say that a glossy brochure doesn't ever mean squat. Mom and Dad rented a "quaint cabin in a forest setting with all the amenities of a resort" somewhere off of Kentucky Lake. We were all set to go on yet another Connolly family fishing and Yahtzee playing extravaganza. Little did we know that after driving ten hours, the "resort amenities" would be a scummy green pool breeding the state's mosquitos, a handful of vending machines, and the assistance of a staff that had fewer teeth than the Chunk. The "cabin" was made out of cinder blocks and seemed more inclined to host wasps than people. Actually, it all looked an awful lot like this

My Dad took one look around, told us to NOT TOUCH ANYTHING, and disappeared for a few hours, mercifully finding us a fantastic little house right on the lake, but holy hell what an adventure.

So yeah. I'm kind of jaded about rental houses. Or maybe it's scarred. Anyway, I was nervous.

Turns out my worries were for naught. Because "The Sunbeam" in Lincoln City turned out to be a little ceder sided piece of adorable heaven. For a hundred bucks a night we had a full kitchen, two bedrooms, and a loft for the kids to sleep in. There was TV and movies and games and it was really just perfect, and only a few blocks from the beach.

We went grocery shopping and bought way too much food while our faithful driver and navigator Skippy and Jack took much needed snoozes and when we got back, we said screw it all, made the kids dinner, and ordered Chinese.

And we listened to the rain. Which was STILL falling.

Got to run!

Mom's visit, part one

Last Tuesday the alarm went off bright and early at seven a.m. just like does every other weekday. I blearily leaned over to smack the snooze button mercilessly to catch seven more blissful minutes of snooze time and then suddenly BOLTED out of bed, grabbing my robe on my way to the shower.

This wasn't a normal Tuesday. I wasn't about to start the school runs. It was the Tuesday we had to GO GET MY MOM! And Jack too. Poor Jack - in my excitement over seeing Mom I kind of forget to give him props. But he dealt with my insane kids for six days so I give him major credit too.

So let me revise: It was the day we had to GO GET MY MOM AND JACK!

Immediately I launched into major-mommy-wife-shrew mode, kicking butts out of bed willy-nilly and tossing clothes at everyone. Then I loaded the van for a few days at the coast while Skippy did some dishes. We're not real big on traditional roles around here - SKIPPY did dishes and *I* loaded the van.

But anyway....

Mom and Jack had gotten in way way waaaaaay late the night before so we finally headed out the door for Portland around nine, with duffel bags and snacks shoved into every nook and cranny I could find to allow room in the back for luggage. I briefly considered bungee cording Kbear under the seat but realized that one of her legs would poke out so we made do with what we could and hit the road.

Around 9:15 the phone calls started. Mom asking where we were. Mom asking when we'd get there. Mom making sure we were okay. Mom asking how much longer. We had to get gas. And I needed coffee. And Mom called fourteen more times. But finally - FINALLY - we pulled up to their hotel.

"Should I call their room?" I asked Skippy. He snorted.

"Are you kidding me? They will be in the lobby." Mr Condescending replied as he parked.

"Noooo honey, I bet I should call their r--"

And there they were, Mom practically sprinting across the parking lot and the kids pretty much spilling out of the van in a bundle of excited squealing hugs. I hate when Skippy is right. But at least Mom (and Jack) were here. We were ready to begin our adventure....I mean, our visit.

I have to pause here and once again give props to my van. My little bargain of a used minivan has held up remarkably well under the assault of the W family. Once we got all the luggage in, we stuffed people into every available seat and we were off. Keep in mind that even though my van technically seats seven, they never promised you'd be comfortable. But we were together, and we were on our way down to the road and heading to the coast.

But first things first. We needed to stop for lunch. If you're ever on Highway 26 heading to or from the coast, may I recommend you stop at Camp 18 - good food and really neat atmosphere. An hour later, we were stuffed full and contorted our way back into the van. Tillamook loomed ahead and within it, the holy grail of cheese.

More to come!

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