Swommy Mommy

The New House

2010-05-10T09:21:00.001-07:00

Whew! It's been awhile since I posted. We have been preparing for our move at lightning speed and while I am anxious to get the move over with so we can carry on with our lives, it is moving a bit fast for my taste. But that's a different post. Instead, I wanted to share photos of the house. Most everyone has seen a couple on Facebook but my dad really wants to see more pics and I don't necessarily want every single one of my FB peeps to see the complete run-down of my house. Besides, they'd probably just think it was boring.

Anyway. We are thrilled about this house. The story goes that we arrived in TN with a list of about 30 houses to see over the course of 4-5 days. We narrowed our search down to Hendersonville, TN which is a Nashville suburb on the northeast side, because it provided Randy with the shortest commute into Kentucky each day. The day before we were to leave, we found a house that we liked a lot. It had most of what we wanted in a house but we knew we would have to put a bit of money into it in the next couple of years. Basically, the kitchen and baths were out of date (it was a 1984 house) but it had good basic flow. We put an offer in that was pretty low because we knew they were asking way too much for it. They countered that night with an offer that was still a bit on the high side and we decided to sleep on it. The next morning, I got one of my daily email blasts informing me of new listings. A house just came up in a neighborhood that I had liked from my laptop in Washington but at the time, there were no longer any houses in that neighborhood for sale. Since the counteroffer was in our court, we decided that we should go see this new listing just to make sure. We were leaving for home that night and we really wanted to make sure we had explored all options.

So we toured the house and liked it a bit better than the previous one. However, the house right beside it was also for sale. It never came up on our searches because the list price was out of our price range. Our realtor decides to chat up the neighbor as she's cleaning the pool. Judy, our realtor, manages to get a rock bottom price out of the owner and it turns out it is something we can look at after all.

Needless to say, we are in love. Without even a glance back at the other two houses never stood a chance, we secured a contract for this house. Our house. And here it is everyone. We are glad that we don't have to move in with extensive renovations ahead of us. It has a completely brick exterior which means no painting or vinyl replacement for us. The property is actually about 2.75 acres but we have about 1-1.5 acres that are usable and the rest hasn't been cleared so it is available but won't require maintenance. And did I mention the pool? The kids are thrilled although they did surprise us along the way when a couple of times they blatantly preferred basements to pools. They got over it, quickly.

the view of the pool from the breakfast area

the master bathroom

another master bath pic, there is actually another stand alone sink in another spot

the master bedroom

the rec room, the pool table stays, the kids are super excited about that!

the family room just off the kitchen

the open kitchen

the dining room (which we'll probably never use!)

Fear

2010-04-20T23:04:00.001-07:00

I knew this day would come. I just didn't think I would be admitting it out here in blogland. It's quite embarrassing to be honest with you but I am so proud that I have to put my humility aside to celebrate for my child.

The day I'm talking about is one where my child did something that I cannot bring myself to do. My 7 year old son is officially braver than me. There. I said it. It's out there. Whew.

I know you're thinking, "Gee, I didn't realize that Adam rescued someone from a burning building" or "How did I not hear that Adam went skydiving recently?".

Here's the embarrassing part…for me at least….

He jumped off the diving board at the pool.

This simple act is something that has eluded me my whole life. I just cannot bring myself to climb up those steps, walk across that board and then willingly throw myself into the water. I can swim and I am not afraid of deep water. It's the jumping in that gets me. Never. Gonna. Happen.

So imagine my surprise when, a couple of weeks ago, I get a phone call at work from Randy. He was at the pool with the kids when Adam ran into a classmate of his. This classmate was jumping off the diving board and the rope swings and having a grand 'ole time. Naturally, Adam wanted to do those things with him. Randy reminded him that first he had to take the swim test so he could get his swimming license to be allowed to do those things.

As if we had not been asking him for the last year. As if it was just another thing for him to do. He simply said okay and walked over to the testing area. And passed the test!

And without any hesitation, he climbed up those steps, walked across that board and willingly threw himself into the water. Repeatedly.

"I'm so proud of you Adam", I said for the 100^th time as I tucked him into bed that night.

"Why?"

"Because today you did the one thing that mommy has never done, because I am too afraid"

"But it was so easy, are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

It was then that I realized that your kids really do think you are the bravest and smartest people in the world. While I was flattered that he would assume I had conquered the diving board, I thought it was important to let him know that even as an adult, I have fears. How many times have they heard us say, "When I was your age, I was afraid of the dark or when I was your age, I was afraid to ride my bike without training wheels". But to have me as an adult today freely admitting something that I am afraid of TODAY was probably quite surprising to him.

Now I just need to beg, borrow or steal some courage because when that boy asks me to jump off the diving board with him, I will.

An Interview with a Princess

2010-04-13T18:31:00.001-07:00

Adam and Lizzy had back to back spring breaks this year. Randy has been traveling (A LOT), so we weren't able to do anything extravagant for the break(s). Instead we embarked on our very own "stay-cation" where the kids and I filled our days with local activities…movies, the library, lunch, shopping. Unfortunately, by the time Lizzy's week rolled around, I was all out of creative ideas. Top that off with the fact that, lately, it has been quite a chore even getting these guys out of the house. I swear at this rate, they will be hermits by the time they are 12.

I got an idea to have a princess tea party with Lizzy. We always have tea parties, usually involving her play food and drinking water out of her tea cups. She usually dresses up but I usually just show up, stopping whatever it is I am working on at the moment to join in. This time was different. I really wanted to make a memorable moment for her, where she felt like it was all about her and where she had my undivided attention.

So we planned our menu……

Invited our guests…..

Dressed in our finest apparel…..

And partied all day……..

So much partying in fact that even princesses have to let their hair out sometime...literally....

And I got a little insight in the day and life of a princess.

Mommy: "What do princesses do all day?"

Lizzy: "Say fancy things like please and thank you."

Mommy: "What is it like being a princess?"
Lizzy: "Well, you dress beautiful and you get to marry your prince charming. Daddy is mine."

Mommy: "What is your favorite thing about the tea party?"
Lizzy: "The strawberries (as she burps). (And giggles) "Excuse me!"

We had a great time during our tea party. Well, until Her Highness excused herself to go to the "royal bathroom". I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go, even if you're a princess.

Slow Boat to Oslo

2010-03-31T15:49:00.000-07:00

Adam is on spring break this week. Unfortunately, Randy is in Los Angeles this week so the kids and I have embarked on our own little version of a "Stay-cation", island style. After two days of lunches and window shopping in Winslow, the public library and a movie (How to Train Your Dragon is AWESOME, I might add), I knew it was only a matter of time before he requested that we just stay home.

This kid really doesn't like to go anywhere. Even outings around our tiny island have to be shrouded in ulterior motives, creative presentation and yes, even small bribes. Forget it if we have to cross the bridge.

So today, while Lizzy was in school (her spring break is next week), he asked me if I wanted to go on a boat ride. I never quite know how to answer these kinds of questions from him but I was pretty sure he didn't mean a cruise around the island. When he dashed upstairs and yelled for me to meet him in his closet in 10 minutes, I got the picture.

The floor of his closet had been emptied out last night because he wanted to sleep in there. Don't ask. That's a whole different post. Naturally, this was the loading point for our cruise. By the time I got there, he had carefully drawn a picture of the details of our voyage.

Here's how it went down:

We were sailing from Cape Cod to Oslo, Norway. Apparently, this is because Oslo is the best port in Norway. Well duh! Even I knew that. We would be making a brief, slightly south, out of the way stop in Bermuda (hmmm, could this be remnants of the Amelia Earhart documentary he and Randy watched this past weekend?). It would take 21 hours to get there. But who needs all these details, let the picture speak for itself:

This map not only shows USA on the left, Norway on the right and the tiny island of Bermuda in the middle but includes a boombox (I didn't even realize anyone called it that anymore), a shamrock (for good luck?), the US flag and the Norweigan flag. It's all in the details people.

After a very close call, where he had to stop the boat and swim to shore to retrieve the box of crayons he left behind, we headed on our way. We had our GPS (which bore an uncanny resemblance to a handheld learning game), a 'flags of the world' sticker book, a box of 120 crayons and a single bowling pin, we were prepared for ANYTHING.

Our first matter of business was crayon colors (isn't this what every Captain and First Mate discuss?). For the record, his favorites are macaroni and cheese and gold. I did get a warning not to go wild about the 'wild strawberry' because it really was just red. He thinks that melon is very cool because the color that actually shows up is darker than what you'd think allowing him to make the perfect color of eyes for his crabs.

And while we're on the subject of crayon colors, these kids today never had it so good. My crayon boxes were filled with colors like burnt sienna and mulberry. This was as good as it got people and at the time, I thought they were pretty cool. My favorites today? Outer space, fuzzy wuzzy, atomic tangerine, banana mania, purple mountain's majesty. I literally sat in the floor of that boat, despite the raging waves, and scrutinized every single color in the box. All 120 of them.

We never quite made it to Oslo, we had to veer off course and take a jet ski to the land of St. Cecilia. We hear the 5 year olds rule the kingdom there and we were in dire need of a Second Mate. Since that time, I have been demoted to galley work while the captain and the new first mate discuss more important matters like whether or not he will be able to fit all 196 flags of the world stickers onto one single page.

Broken Promises: Lent vs. the 1st grade

2010-03-12T09:55:00.001-08:00

Giving up Facebook for Lent has probably been the easiest thing I have ever done. I suppose this should be the part where I realize that maybe it wasn't such a sacrifice after all and should rethink it, but that'll be a whole different discussion.

However, I am wondering where God's stance would be on breaking Lenten code for the sake of a 1^st grade class project?

Adam's class is working on something called Flat Stanley. Flat Stanley is a book and the main character is a paper boy who travels around in envelopes on these great adventures. Each person in the class was to provide an address of someone they knew who would participate by receiving Flat Stanley in the mail and replying with an adventure to share. When Adam came home I immediately thought of our friends all over the country who would eagerly participate.

Apparently he had other ideas. Believe it or not, since the time he was about 3, Adam has been curious about geography. Okay, curious is mild. Let's go with obsessed. It is very common to find him in his room studying books of world maps. As a matter of fact, I distinctly remember him carrying a world atlas book to his 6^th birthday pool party. And don't you even dare to try to bluff about what language they speak in Malaysia or what country borders Zimbabwe, he will call you out on the carpet quicker than a Portugese minuto (that's minute for us laymen). What can I say? The kid's got a future with the United Nations or at the very least with a travel agency.

I digress, back to Flat Stanley. Adam's recent obsession is Norway. He has decided that he will live there when he is 15 and we are welcome to join him at a later date. He has already put in his request for his dad to go ahead and mail the check for boarding school and college "just to be sure". He comes home last week telling me that we need to send our Flat Stanley to Norway. Forget the tiny little fact that we don't know anyone in Norway, according to him we can just pick someone out online and send it (I cringe at how badly his can go – can you say Dateline NBC?). But maybe we should have a backup person just in case they don't respond.

So our "plan B" becomes a friend of Randy's from high school who was an exchange student from Australia (no offense, Tania). I was very excited about this idea to have an international Flat Stanley. Apparently, that wasn't good enough for Mr. UN because Australians are English-speaking and he wanted a foreign language. Only our kid.

The address was due in today, Friday and last night, lo and behold, in a 13^th hour flash of the light bulb, I realized that we may actually have a shot at a Norweigan Flat Stanley. I remember an exchange student from high school who was from a Scandanavian country, but embarrassingly enough, no clue which one. Boy this would be a stretch. We had classes together in high school but that was about it and we hadn't spoken a word to each other since graduation. However, thanks to the good ole world of Facebook, I remember her responding to something a mutual friend posted. Facebook, uh-oh.

And here we are folks, the whole reason for my breaking my Lenten promise. I covertly logged into Facebook last night (making sure my session was invisible just to avoid the 'splaining) with my fingers crossed and found her name. I was way too embarrassed to ask her which particular Scandanavian country she was from (her profile didn't list it). I even got sneaky and tried to google a translation for some of her posts which were in her native tongue. No luck. So I put my pride aside and messaged her last night, saying a little prayer for forgiveness as I hit send.

Oh how I love the internet! This morning my inbox contained a message from Ruth, graciously agreeing to forgive a 20 year lapse in communication for the sake of a desperate mom's request: with a Norweigan address. You know you're a mom when this bit of luck is way better than winning the lottery.

Now, off to do a few thousand Hail Marys…….

(For those of you who weren't there and just in case you doubted the 6th birthday pool party/atlas story)

Because God does allow a Do-Over

2010-02-24T16:57:00.001-08:00

So last week, I proudly planned to post on Swommy Mommy about Lent-related topics. I had grand visions of compiling all of those unused Facebook minutes into blog posts. If only in my head, I had hopes of beefing up my writing schedule and doing this daily. Yeah.

So here it is Wednesday of the following week. A full week after Ash Wednesday and I have yet to feel motivated to post anything at all, much less anything inspirational. In my defense I have been dealing with an annoying illness. On Thursday, the day after Ash Wednesday, I volunteered in Adam's class for an entire 30 minutes. Apparently 30 minutes is plenty of time for floating germs to find a home. By Thursday evening, I had a fever and some major chest congestion. The annoying part is that it is lingering, and lingering, and lingering. I'm not heavily medicated, sleep all day sick but enough to prevent much more productive items like packing for our move, laundry, cleaning… you see where I'm going here. I have managed to do tons of reading, follow up on emails and even scrapbook. In theory, sitting at my laptop writing posts should have been a perfect use of time. Anyway.

I thought maybe I'd share what the kids decided to sacrifice for Lent. Many families do not hold their younger children to serious levels of sacrifice for Lent. I totally get that. We only started getting our children in on the action last year. I'm not a warden of Lenten sacrifice. The plan is always to keep it light and simple and show the children that they can make choices that are manageable. The fact that they give up candy, tv or stuffed animals will not cause their demise and God still loves them the same if they fail.

Last year I subtly managed to convince the kids that television would be a good something for the entire family to sacrifice. With our dark and dreary winters, I found us in front of the tv more often that I liked. Somehow the kids were on board with it. For about two days. I'm still not sure what they thought I meant when I said we would not be watching television for 40 plus days but somehow the channels got crossed, pardon the pun. After two days they were extremely unhappy with the arrangement. Even Randy was unhappy because somehow he forgot that Lent occurs primarily during March Madness which meant no basketball games. But we survived.

I am a very intelligent woman, there was no way I was expecting a repeat of giving up television. This year, we discussed the things we loved that we could sacrifice for the duration of Lent. They were between giving up candy or all of their stuffed animals. The vote was in and candy was this year's choice. I was happy because they have a dentist appointment in April. You see there's nothing at all wrong about my children's sacrifices creating secondary value for ME.

This lasted for less than 48 hours when a trip to Target created the Great Lenten Do-Over of 2010. We were getting our few things on the list and my candy fiends walked past the aisles of candy and stopped dead in their tracks. Of course their sacrifice went totally out the window as they begged for 'just a little bit of candy, momma'. I reminded them of their promise for Lent to which they immediately replied that they wanted to change it to stuffed animals. I cringed about this change in plans and had visions of do-overs that night when it was time for bed and they now wanted to turn in candy to get their stuffed animals back. But I agreed and insisted that it was just this one time and truly meant it. I needed to show them that we could be flexible as long as the sacrifice was still present.

So with jolly ranchers in hand, we conducted the stuffed animal roundup. Every single animal no matter how big or small went into a box. I even left the box out for a couple of days, not to be cruel, but to make sure that we got all of the stragglers. And you know what? They have not asked for a do-over yet. Sometimes they can surprise you.

Lent: Facebook vs. Faith

2010-02-18T09:13:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday which formally marked the beginning of Lent. For us Catholics, it represents a time of reflection and sacrifice in anticipation of the celebration of Easter which of course is about the Risen Christ and not about fancy dresses and chocolate bunnies. Last night we attended Mass to receive ashes. Our priest spoke of self-denial which to me is the epitome of Lent. The idea is that you should be able to make sacrifices to mimic the ultimate sacrifice that Christ made for us. It also develops your appreciation for the sacrifice allowing you to fully enjoy it when Easter arrives. Many people during this time "give up" something. You hear tales of people giving up alcohol, certain food items, eating out, etc. In theory, it should be something that you consider a vice that prevents you from being closer to God.

As I've gotten older, I've become a lot more cynical of the choices that we make to give up. I have always believed that the thing that we choose should not have a secondary benefit to my well being. For example, someone might decide to give up sweets and while they certainly probably consider that a great sacrifice, the secondary value of losing weight often times is driving that choice. Don't get me wrong, I have given up those things too. I can recall sacrificing sweets, soda, reality TV, all TV and this year Facebook.

Each year that I deny myself an earthly vice, I try to include an activity that I feel guides me to become a better Christian. I tuned out MTV and included EWTN (Eternal Word Television Network, a Catholic based cable network), I vowed to pray at the start of each day because that was something I was not good at, I replaced my usual fiction reading with spiritual self-help. It doesn't always go smoothly, this give and add duo but I try my best and the fact that I am aware of it is the true spirit of the season.

So this year, it's Facebook. It has been wonderful reconnecting with friends in 30 second spurts throughout the day but honestly, it will be nice to replace it with something constructive. So my plan is to spend no time on FB and more time writing on Swommy Mommy. The caveat will be that my blog will contain more stories and reflections on our spirituality as a family and less about what we did that weekend or something funny the kids did. I am going to try to do this each day during Lent. I am not that creative so the pressure is on to come up with something interesting and relevant for the next 45 days. I'll call it Faithbook.

Our $95 Playdate…cause that’s how we roll!

2010-02-11T17:02:00.001-08:00

Today, Lizzy and I are having a ballet themed play date that cost us a mere $95. What's wrong with play dates at the park? Or home? And since when did play dates cost money?

I am so glad you asked! You see this saga started last winter at Adam's school fundraiser. Tables and tables full of wonderful items all waiting to go home to the highest bidder. I am not the type to get into a bidding war over a dinner out or a massage but I am a sucker for good causes. My modus operandi at any worthwhile fundraiser is to go through everything and if there is something appealing enough, I will usually just bid full value for it. Sure, it totally ticks off those who like to bid low just to see if they can get something for nothing. I am not that kind of bidder, not when the funds are going to our school or church. I'm very soft like that and besides…… I like to win.

So I came across this ballerina birthday package valued at $95. Lizzy, who was 4 at the time, was all about princesses, ballerinas and dress-up. Thinking forward to her 5^th birthday in July, I thought this would be a perfect, girly event just right for that big 5^th party. So I quickly filled in my name at the full $95 value, patted myself on the back for supporting a good cause and considered her party already planned, 7 months early. Thankyouverymuch.

Fast forward seven months later. My precious but stubborn 4, soon to be 5, year old adamantly insisted on a pool party instead. I guess two straight years of witnessing her brother's fabulous pool parties was enough to kiss the ballet party goodbye. Actually, more like BUH-BYE. Believe me, with a $95 price tag looming over my head, I tried my hardest to convince her to stick with the ballerinas. I am not too proud to admit that I openly attempted a bribe but there was no amount of bribing to convince a 4, going on 5 year old of anything else. If you have ever had one of those (4, going on 5 year olds I mean) you are probably giving me an "Amen, sista!" even as you read this post.

With a mere 10 days before her party, I quickly called the aquatic center to schedule this party. I then proceeded to explain the party details to this girl. Just in case you happen to be counting, this was my second mistake (#1 being the 7 month advance purchase of a ballerina party package and #2 being the giving of details of the pool party to a 4 going on 5 year old). As soon as my dear daughter heard that her birthday pool party was going to be on the weekend and not on the Tuesday of her actual birthday (because that's the only time they schedule parties) party package #2 was vetoed. As it turns out, she had recently been to, not one but TWO birthday parties where the party was held at home. Apparently in the rule book, Parents of Girls that are 4 Going on 5 (of which I am declaring that my advance copy never arrived), you are not only allowed to change your mind about your party as often as you wish but you also MUST and I mean MUST do EXACTLY what other friends in your class are doing. This translates into a party at home on her real birthday. The weekend Simply. Will. Not. Do.

During this time, her dad and I are frantically begging her to do the pool party. We both recalled with desperation what a party at home would involve. Those who say it is easier and cheaper should be tarred and feathered. We say it should be outlawed in all 50 states to have birthday parties at home. To date, we have spent far more money and definitely more cleaning time preparing for birthday parties at home than we ever did on location.

But you're only 5 once. Not to mention the fact that I had tons of guilt over her 4^th birthday party. We had moved across the country and had lived in the state of Washington for a mere 18 days before her birthday. We knew no one except our landlord and Victor, our strange, caveman looking single neighbor next door. She got a pony ride on a Sunday afternoon with her family. The girl was entitled to get what she wanted this time around.

So I called the aquatic center, a mere TWO HOURS LATER, and was told the deposit was non-refundable because the party was booked less than two weeks out. Great, there goes another $75. Just in case you're counting we have spent $170 so far and still no party package to speak of. Luckily, Adam's birthday was a couple of months later and since we were 2-2 in planning his birthdays, I knew we could count on him to agree. You see, we actually did receive our advance copy of Parents of Boys Who Don't Care What or Where Their Party is as Long as There's Cake and happen to like it very much.

Now back to our playdate. Lizzy had a swell birthday party at home. Adam had his pool party two months later. I filed away the gift certificate thinking that I would attempt to sell it to another poor, overcompensating parent. Fast forward six months later to January 2010. I come across the certificate and GASP! The thing expires at the end of January. There's no time to do anything with it except use it or lose it. So we invited a few of Lizzy's friends for a very special playdate. A $95 playdate to be exact. Complete with an extra $15 leotard and tight set which had to be purchased by me because there was NO WAY I could take my daughter to a ballet play date without proper attire. Because I read the 1974 book This is Your Party (at Home with only your Family in Attendance) and You Will Like It and I am a sucker for a good cause. And look at this beautiful face...she is soooo worth it!

Look Out PBA!

2010-02-02T05:49:00.001-08:00

We all agree that we like the idea of bowling. We had never gotten to go as a family but in theory we knew we would like it. The kids had been to several bowling birthday parties, however, a family outing kept managing to elude us. Apparently, most alleys really cater to leagues and tournaments, so much that the concept of an "open bowl" to us peons in the public is quite an ordeal. Many a Friday or Saturday our efforts were squashed when we would get the idea to go only to discover that the alley was not open to the public, except at crazy hours like midnight bowling. Not so great for a family with young children.

I had a rare weekend day off this past Sunday and after attending Mass as well as Lizzy's school open house at St. Cecilia's, Randy had the great idea to go bowling. The first and closest alley we called was having a tournament. Strike 1. The second one was located on a nearby navy base. We weren't sure if we could get in so we called first. I stood there while Randy asked the guy if it was open to the general public. Yes was the answer. Apparently "general public" has multiple definitions because when we got there, we were denied. Strike 2. But not so fast…..

We thought nothing of Randy handing over his driver's license at the entrance. Military base, clearance stuff. Sure. Except for the minor detail that Randy's license from ALABAMA had expired last May. As in May 2009 where May 2010 is just around the corner. In his defense, he doesn't drive to work and if he travels it's usually by air. In my defense, I have been on him since the time it expired to get it renewed. As a matter of fact, I believe the catalyst was the last time he got pulled over in Portland, OR for using the carpool lane incorrectly. He was quite proud of the fact that even though he got a $400 ticket for that violation, the officer never said a word about his license which was EXPIRED at that time too. Sheesh!

So as I mentally berated him and myself for being so stupid, we were told to pull up ahead while we waited for the MA to arrive. We didn't know what MA stood for but we had a pretty good guess. While waiting for the MA, we fielded questions from the audience about what jail is like and what kind of food did they serve. The MA shows up and yes Virginia there is a Santa Claus because he proceeds to tell us that since we have no military affiliation that he has no jurisdiction and that we would need to turn around. We were not ashamed to be thrilled about some crazy U.S. Government loophole at that very moment.

Off to bowling alley #3 in Bremerton, about 40 minutes from home. Despite the ordeal to get there, we had a blast. The kids were very supportive of each other, especially Adam who took every chance he got to cheer Lizzy on. I was quite proud of his sportsmanship. There was no pouting or arguing over whose turn it was. They lugged their own balls to the lane and while we patiently waited for the ball to make it to the other end, we did a lot of laughing, joking and high-fiving. We had teams...boys vs. girls. Somehow by the end of the game, Adam came up with his own scoring system of 8 to 5 boys. It may take me the rest of my life to understand where he got that logic but I am afraid to ask because it may take him the rest of his life to explain it.

The Fish and the Bees…

2010-01-18T20:35:00.001-08:00

I'm posting this for Randy who was the lucky one to be involved in this conversation.

January 16, 2010

This story has a good part and a bad part…

The kids and I had errands to run today. As we were driving to Silverdale, we began discussing some cool things to do or visit this Spring. One of the things that I had heard about (and honestly forgotten) was visiting the Ballard Locks in the Spring and watching the salmon swim up the salmon ladders.

As I mentioned this, both kids became extremely excited about this. Both Adam and Lizzy asked questions about how the salmon were able to maneuver upstream – and yes they understood that the salmon ladder was not a ladder we are accustomed to. I told them why the salmon were swimming upstream – to lay eggs in the salmon's native waters so the baby salmon could be hatched. Lizzy being the animal enthusiast and future veterinarian, quickly turned the conversation about the baby salmon back to her own fish she has at home.

Lizzy said (and I quote), "Daddy I wish I had a boy and girl fish. That way we could have 1,000 fish without spending 1 penny."

The good part…Lizzy is cost conscientious and watching her money so much to the point that she knows having a boy and girl fish means she would not have to buy anymore fish.

The bad part…Lizzy, a five and half year old, knows that it takes a boy and girl fish to make baby fish. Wow!!! Mom and Dad are in trouble!!!

Batteries Not Included

2010-01-15T16:19:00.000-08:00

So today I am seriously deviating from my usual kid and parenting topics to that of recycling. STOP! Before you click on that tiny red x at the upper right corner of the screen, hear me out. I am not going to go on a soapbox about the environment or urge you to learn to knit using plastic grocery bags (yes, that does exist!).

Last summer we had to take our own recycling to the landfill because pickup was not included in at our apartment. Because of this weekly Saturday ritual, we developed quite a knack for recycling. I also think that because of our having to "go out of the way" to recycle, we were not as burdened by inconvenience and therefore, more likely to recycle whatever needed recycling.

During this time, Lizzy became quite the little green girl. I remember having to fish plastic tupperware bowls out of the recycle bins before the weekly cart-off. In her opinion, if it had a recycling symbol on it, it was fair game, whether or not the piece was intended for multiple uses. I also remember her carrying an empty water bottle for at least 20 minutes because she wanted to put it in a recycling bin and not just an old trash can.

One benefit about living in the Pacific Northwest or on the west coast in general is that people recycle just about everything. I have to admit that when we were in Alabama, if we couldn't put it in the recycling bin, we didn't take it any further. The limitations are not much different here, I think the only additional item we can put in the bin is glass. The difference is that here, people are very proud of how little bagged trash that have each day. Between composting, recycling and reusing, in some households it is common to only have a couple of bags in a week. I wish that I were that dedicated but I am not. I do plan to compost one day and I've been known to browse websites for "upcycling" which is the term for making something new out of a recycled product. That's about it for me.

One thing that has been nagging me for a very long while, however, is disposable batteries. I've always heard that you shouldn't throw them in the garbage, but to be quite honest, tossing a couple here and there never seemed to amout to much. Kind of like only speeding 5 miles over the speed limit. It's way more convenient and it's not really hurting anyone right?

Last year, I discovered that the recycling center does allow household batteries. So I simply used an old plastic coffee can, labeled it "old batteries to recycle" and placed it in my laundry room, next to the place where I store my new batteries. Every time I would go to get new batteries, I would drop the old ones in there. Outta sight, outta mind.

Today I took my years worth of batteries to the recycling center. It never seemed like much when I dropped 2 or 3 in there at a time, but boy did they accumulate.

Some stupid pieces of information for you: a 1-lb coffee can full of batteries weighs about 10 pounds. It will hold 1 large flashlight battery, 1 portable phone battery, 1 9-volt, 16 AAA and 150 AA batteries.

My uber sophisticated battery storage system!

Lizzy Strikes Again!

2010-01-12T11:12:00.001-08:00

I am speechless when it comes to this girl. She is complicated yet funny. Oh how I love her. These are my two favorite recent photos which pretty much sums her up.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-12-16T14:42:00.000-08:00

created by Lizzy - Age 5

It's a Wrap!

2009-12-10T21:30:00.000-08:00

Last week, as I was driving Lizzy to school, we had a conversation about careers. Lizzy has been saying for a while that she wants to be a veterinarian. I am sure it has to do with her desperate desire to collect animals. Fish, hamsters, cats, you name it and she wants to own them. So for the time being, this is what she wants to be when she grows up. This is how the car ride went:

Lizzy: "Mama, when can I be a veterinarian?"

Me: "Well, first you have to finish high school and then you have to go to college to learn about how to take care of animals."

Lizzy: "Why, mama?"

Me: "Because not everybody knows how to do that and you need to learn how to keep them healthy and safe."

Lizzy: "Jacob's dad is a pilot, did he have to learn about that?"

Me: "He sure did."

Lizzy: "But mama, you didn't have to go to college to learn about wrapping presents. Anybody can do that, even me."

What else can I say? I so wanted to spit out my resume with a footnote about how my job allows me to take her on playdates, pick her up from school or see an afternoon movie. But why? It was purely pride getting in the way, as if working at a toy store and wrapping presents was something that needed to be justified. On the contrary, in the eyes of her friends, I probably have the coolest job in the world.

Today, she wanted to wrap some gifts all by herself that she had already picked out for a few family members. She's right, anybody can wrap presents, even her. I've got some competition.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-12-09T16:22:00.001-08:00

Ok. So I'll admit that I use a lot of words when I am writing. My husband calls my blog posts dissertations which makes me think that he most likely has never read any of them past the first two paragraphs. Thank goodness the photos keep him coming back for more! So in an effort to fine tune my writing skills (and take an immature stab at his lack of loyalty), I am stealing an idea from some other blogs I've read: wordless wednesday. This is officially the last I will say about wordless wednesday. Next Wednesday, enjoy the reprieve and let the photo speak for itself. This one's for you Randy!

First Grade Rocks

2009-12-03T22:33:00.001-08:00

Oh how I am enjoying first grade Adam. Suddenly the shyness is out the window and he is becoming his own person. I'm hearing more and more about his friends, making us laugh is paramount and if he deems something is talkworthy, we get a play by play of what he thinks were his most important parts of the day. He's only been in school for three months but I think I can pretty sum up the world of a first grade boy.

Being a first grader means:

Crayon colors like 'silver' and 'macaroni and cheese' are treasures and can be as tradable as Pokemon cards.

It's not a successful day unless you come home muddy, with grass stains or holes in your jeans because you've been sliding around the playground for every recess.

Having the bus driver tie your shoelaces becomes the catalyst for learning to tie them on your own.

It's still okay to kiss your mommy goodbye at the bus stop.

The coolest thing that happens in your life ever is when a 3^rd or 4^th grader invites you to play with them.

Riding the bus is THE most important part of the day.

A trifecta is when you're having pizza for lunch, phys ed is on the specialist rotation and homework is due (because you earn a mini bee reward for turning it in which you can later redeem for prizes).

When you never get past the first prize tier because 5 mini bees equals 1 jolly rancher and if you're really lucky it's blue raspberry.

And jokes… all kinds of them.

The Riddles:

What has hands but can't wave? A clock.

The Knock Knocks:

Knock, knock. Who's there? Hammond. Hammond who? Hammond Eggs!

The One-Liners:

What's a football player's favorite coin? A quarter.

Then there are others. His mind just spins coming up with new material to practice on us. This was tonight's practice run:

Adam: "Mommy what do you get when you cross a dinosaur with a monster truck?

Me: "I don't know, what?"

Adam: "A monstersaurus!"

Me: "Hee, hee."

Adam: "Mommy, I don't get that one, why was that funny?"

Me: "I don't really know, it was your joke."

Adam: "Then why did you laugh?"

Me: "Because I'm enjoying the moment."

If only I could bottle up his excitement, the things that he finds funny, cool, and interesting are so perfectly innocent. I love the sparkle in his eyes as he shares those pieces with me. I wish I could protect him forever from the real world, from the hurt feelings, tragedies and unfulfilled wishes.

For now I will relish being in his world, enjoy his seven year old mind and laugh at his jokes even if they're not funny.

The Nutcracker

2009-11-28T21:58:00.001-08:00

I tend to think of really great ideas after the fact. Last year, Lizzy came home from school devastated because one of her preschool friends was going to go see The Nutcracker and she couldn't go. Of course, this was days before Christmas break and I happened to work retail. From Thanksgiving to Christmas, my free time is nil. That was one of those 'dang!' moments where I should have thought about this ahead of time but unfortunately did not. Needless to say, we did not make it to see The Nutcracker that year.

Fast forward to October 2009: now I am on my game and as soon as I start to see announcements for ticket sales for the Pacific Northwest Ballet's production of The Nutcracker, I book our tickets. There was no way I was going to have a repeat of last year. I had never been to McCaw Hall before so I had no clue what seats to buy. Then add into the mix a 5 year old who's attention span is questionable at times. After studying the seating charts for far longer than I should have, I finally paid attention to the Gold Circle seats in the very front row and bought the ones directly behind them. My thought process was that if they were willing to drop $113 a ticket to sit there, then the next row behind at $50 couldn't be all bad. Needless to say, I was very nervous until the day of the performance.

Randy and Adam happened to have plans to spend the day at a football game. The Apple Cup is a big game each year where the University of Washington Huskies play the Washington State Cougars, every states version of a backyard brawl. These were given to him from a colleague who's wife was expecting a baby. So this morning, we are all scurrying around to get ready. Randy packing up for a day outing on a very cold and windy football day with a 7 year old and myself for a very formal and special outing with a 5 year old. Lizzy actually threw me for a loop when she began crying because she wanted to go with the boys and not the ballet.

What a way to start off our Nutcracker traditions. Randy's cab driver also owns a limo so Randy made arrangements for him to pick us up at the ferry terminal and take us to the performance. Lizzy had picked out a very special holiday dress complete with black sparkly shoes. This girl was bursting with excitement at the thought of the limo alone, not to mention seeing the ballerinas on stage.
We arrived about an hour and a half before the performance which was perfect for us. They did a great job of having activities throughout the lobby to keep kids entertained. There were a couple of craft stations which were Lizzy's idea of heaven. There were lots of decorations to look at including a giant tree that filled the lobby. The local newspaper was giving out free nutcrackers as a promotion so she got her very own Clara (and I might add has been on a nutcracking frenzy with peanuts ever since!).
The seats ended up being almost perfect. I would have liked a bit more elevation so that we weren't dodging the people's heads directly in front of us. However, with a five year old with a short attention span, being that close to stage paid off because she was able to see the costumes well and the faces of the dancers, which kept her focus. At one point, she leaned over and whispered, "mommy, why aren't they saying anything?". Very cute, I guess I didn't give her all the details I should have.

It was by far our most special day together. I am embarrassed that she is home with me two days out of each week and yet we do very little special things together. Lucky for me, she enjoys shopping because most of the time we are doing errands and getting groceries. Unfortunately, this doesn't rank very well on the 'quality time with mom' o-meter. I'm so glad we had this day together to show her just how special she is. From the special party dress to the limo to the goodies along the way, she will have a wonderful reminder of this outing. We are now going to work on a scrapbook together to document this day forever so she can always look back and know that today she was a princess.

Thanksgiving Day aka Pajama Day

2009-11-26T16:02:00.000-08:00

Randy and I grew up about 20 miles away from each other. While we were dating and before children, no matter where we lived we managed to trek to West Virginia to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with our families.

Our first Thankgiving with Adam was spent ordering pizza and spending the day in the family room at the NICU at Presbyterian Hospital in Charlotte, NC. Very non-traditional to say the least.

Our second Thanksgiving, we were living in West Virginia because of an opportunity that Randy had to work from home. That Thanksgiving, we had everyone over at our house. Each mother was notorious for making way too much food so I gave them one rule: they could only bring or make three things to contribute and Randy and I would handle the meat. One meal with everybody in the world that we loved in one place. Perfect.

Since that time, it completely changed. We moved to Alabama by the next Thanksgiving and our immediate family unit moved inward. Because of schools and schedules and now currently - airfare, we've been spending Thanksgiving on our own.

Our first Thanksgiving was the worst. By that time we had gotten to know some people and everyone we knew had big plans that included lots of family. Here we were just the four of us and one of us at the time, Lizzy, was barely eating real food. I am not much of a cook and especially wasn't then. I served a minimal feast and we spent the rest of the day not sure about what to do with ourselves.

Lately, I've been consumed with family traditions and creating them. My childhood Thanksgivings revolved around going to my maternal grandmother's for the day. We had aunts, uncles and cousins who would come from Ohio. It was always cool to see them again after a year and after the initial shyness, compare notes about what the other's life was like, schools, friends, toys, etc.

Our family is young so our traditions are an evolving work in progress that is subject to change at any time. This is what we have so far: we stay in our pajamas, there is lots of football,a board game or two and if we can get up the urge, we may go to a movie tonight which will be a first for us.

I especially love the pajama part. I used to feel guilty about the fact that I still had my pajamas on when the meal was ready to be served. Usually, I would rush upstairs to at least change clothes for a semblance of formality. Today as the last dish was baking in the oven, I ran upstairs to jump in the shower. I thought for 30 seconds about what to put on and reached for a clean pair of pajamas. The kids love any day that they get to stay in pajamas, my husband....well, I mentioned that football was included so I'm sure you can guess what his vote was. And me? I caved to the tradition. And I must say as I sit here in my penguin-themed pajama pants, I am enjoying it. Nontraditional? Yes but it suits us well.

Thanksgiving would not be complete without giving thanks for our many blessings. This year was special because the kids were really able to think about and share what they were thankful for.

Lizzy: "I'm thankful for God, my family and Mrs. Jacobson" (her teacher).
Adam: "I'm thankful for my family, Petty (his stuffed lizard), Wedgehead (another stuffed creature) and my dolls (again, more stuffed creatures called Uglydolls)".
Mom: "I'm thankful to God, for my family, the health of my family and that we are able to do special things together to create memories".
Dad: "I'm thankful for God, my family, for having a job and that Ben Roethlisberger is going to play this weekend (football again, of course!)".

We have many blessings to say the least and while many years ago, our traditions were a bit more traditional, now that we have our own family to build memories with, I think it is safe to say the kids will probably remember the pajama part the most.

No Autographs Please…

2009-11-21T21:15:00.001-08:00

So I work part time at a local toy store - Calico Cat Toy Shoppe on Bainbridge Island, Washington. It definitely has its perks. I get first dibs on all the latest and greatest toys, I get a chance to catch up all of my friends as they come in to shop and especially the great discounts! Recently, however, I got an extra special perk….the kids got their first catalog cover. While the toy store itself has been around 25 years, there have been several owners along the way. The newest owner has finally decided to put out a winter holiday catalog. Way cool. She had this vision of what the cover needed to look like and asked me if Adam & Lizzy could be on it. Uh, let me get back to you on that….yeah!

Adam was a little nervous which is not surprising as he doesn't care for the attention. Lizzy was all for it right from the get go. The third child belonged to the owner, her 11 year old daughter Cydney. The photo shoot was to be very simple. The kids would lie down on the floor and get covered with Uglydolls – this was my kids idea of heaven on Earth as they are insatiable Uglydoll collectors. The photographer would take some shots. Their only need was for the kids to be very still because if the dolls shifted, it would mess up the look of the photo as they all were perfectly placed.

The kids did relatively well. The only problems were that after a while between the lights from the studio and the pile of fleece-covered stuffed animals, it got pretty hot. After each round of photos, the photographer would have to upload the shots digitally so that the owner could see if anything of them were 'the one'. This process was fine after a few rounds but after a while, they got hot and antsy.

Overall it was a fun experience. Elisabeth (not Lizzy, the owner's name is Elisabeth too), let the kids choose something from the store. Adam of course chose an Uglydoll and Lizzy thankfully chose a Breyer horse figurine.

The catalogs were printed and began getting handed out in the store yesterday. Already a couple of Adam's friends have come in and gotten catalogs. I wonder how he'll handle the fame?

Here's the photo of the catalog cover. It doesn't do it nearly as good justice as a hard printed copy but you get the point.

Lizzy’s First Lost Tooth

2009-11-19T08:38:00.001-08:00

We experienced another rite of passage in the Alvis house yesterday – Lizzy lost her first tooth. It had been loose for about 6 weeks and it finally escaped yesterday at school. While they were at the learning table to be exact. I thought it would happen yesterday because it was truly hanging on for dear life. I was just afraid of having a repeat like her brother's where the tooth gets lost in an inopportune place and we spend frantic minutes searching for it.

Nope, at pick up, she ran to me with a paper. Her teacher, bless her soul, taped it to a piece of construction paper so she wouldn't lose it. Of course she was the talk of the class. Since she is pretty much the oldest, it is a given that she will likely be the first to do most everything. I think that made her feel really good to have everyone curious about her tooth.

It was interesting comparing the two children regarding their loose teeth. When Adam gets a loose tooth it literally lingers for months. He won't touch it, look at it or talk about it, with anyone. No amount of convincing or bribing will work with him. Lizzy was a lot like me when I was her age. She played with it, a lot. She would wiggle it around and consider at times our plea to pull it. She was very eager for it to come out, just not willing to do what it takes to make it come out.

When I was growing up and had a loose tooth, the rule was that you never sat near my mother. If she saw you playing with it or messing with it, she would just reach over and yank it. For this reason, I was always willing to pull it myself just so there was not a chance that she would beat me to it. I guess that was the control freak in me coming out. When Randy was younger, his brother literally tried the old urban legend of tying a string to a door knob. The story he tells is that his mom walked in just in the nick of time. With these two stories, it's no wonder our children are terrified of loose teeth!

So last night, we pulled out a gift that her godmother, Veronica, had given to her over the summer in anticipation of this event. It was a tooth fairy pack containing a tooth pouch, a battery operated tea light to light the way for the tooth fairy and a sweet book telling about the origin of the tooth fairy. This morning, the tooth fairy left her $5 to do with what she wants. She was very excited about that and is already talking about what she might do with it. Finally, we can get back to brushing and flossing normally. Until the next one that is.

Murphy’s Law: the Halloween Edition

2009-11-01T20:13:00.001-08:00

The week of Halloween is always a busy time when there are kids involved. There are costumes to fine tune, school party supplies to gather, festive decorations and of course the grand finale: trick or treating. We decided this year to add one more element to the mix…to have a small Halloween party here at home. We just wanted to invite a few friends of Adam & Lizzy who's parents we enjoy the company of. Simple idea, right? No. I am not much of an entertainer..sure I love attending parties but the idea of hosting one usually gets me worked up. Obsessing over every last detail, wanting it all to go perfectly. This year we got a surprise visit from the germ world. In an attempt to keep my sense of humor and avoid losing my sanity, I have come up with a series of my own Murphy's Laws which perfectly describe our Halloween this year.

Your 7 year old will surface with a fever the day after all of your party invitations have gone in the mail
Raccoons will decide to demolish your largest carvable pumpkin three days before your Halloween party, naturally when all of the pumpkin farms have become picked over.
Your 5 year old will become sick on the eve of the only shopping day that you have to possibly get the Halloween supplies you need for your party.
That same 5 year old will throw up all over the bed, herself and the floor within one hour of your completing every last party detail including grocery list and only after you spent an hour on the internet coming up with creative games.
The dogs who will barely sniff at a dropped grape or cracker on the kitchen floor will come running at the first sign of said vomiting as if I am serving steaks
Your daughter will throw up all over HER bed the one time you forget to put a mattress cover on it.
Your daughter will pee in YOUR bed the one time you forget to put a mattress cover on it.
The call from the pediatric nurse will come when you are in the bathroom: the time you are on hold to talk to her after you missed the call is 3200% longer that the time you were given when the phone rang 4 times before going into voice mail.

So that's it folks. Needless to say the party got cancelled and Lizzy even missed her school party because of a fever. We did, however, to continue with a favorite Bainbridge Island tradition—Trick or Treat Downtown. Everyone heads to main street and all of the merchants hand out candy. They block off the street so it is a good, safe time. Usually my crew is happy with the loot they collect and are too tired to head out anywhere else after which is just well for two exhausted parents.

We managed to suit up and survive two hours of treating with no casualties….now where's that Nyquil?

We are very proud of our costumes this year. I am so sick of paying too much money for flimsy costumes that look silly and don't last. This year, our costumes happened quite organically. Lizzy had a visit with her godmother, Veronica, in August who found a bag of old dance recital clothes that she thought Lizzy would like for dress up. Lizzy took to one particular navy one with silver fringe and after putting it on said she felt like supergirl. We ran with it. We spray painted an old navy skirt with silver paint, we found a mask at a costume store for $1.99 and the final touch was a really cool silver cape that her Mama Gill in WV made for her.

Adam has always been a minimalist when it comes to costumes. Usually he refuses to wear any accessories…masks and face paint are a no go for him. Recently he got a Pittsburgh Steelers jersey for football season. Randy had an old Steelers helmet from his childhood and bam, instant football player. He did refuse to wear the helmet most of the time but you got the point. For him, that was as good as it was going to get.
Even Randy was a good sport. A while ago, I got this great idea for us to dress up together. He would dress up as a hippie and I would dress up as a mime and together we would be "Peace and Quiet". It was a riot to me and very easy to do. However, as my own flu-like symptoms developed on Saturday, I was lucky to even be walking with them and certainly didn't feel like face paint and a get up. I am disappointed that I didn't dress up for the occassion but truly I didn't feel like doing anything. I sure am glad he held up to his end.

To Sew or Not to Sew?

2009-10-31T12:44:00.001-07:00

Adam & Randy (aka co-den leader) heading out to a scout event. Notice the awesome patches on the far right of Adam's shirt! Oct 31, 2009

Adam recently joined cub scouts. For him and all of us, frankly, this seemed like an excellent activity for him to do. We've tried some of the usual activities, soccer, soccer again, t-ball, swimming but none of it really did anything for him. Sure he loved the social aspect, seeing some of his school friends and especially snack time. But when it came down to it and it was time to get in and do what he signed up to do, that was a different story altogether. He's not a very competitive or athletic child, so as much as I like that he enjoys giggling and having snacks with his friends outside of school, it's not exactly a good use of time or money.

I never really pictured him as a cub scout, but the more I think about it, the more I think that this is an excellent choice for him. I love the idea of exposing him to all sorts of exercises that will build character, hoping to expand the center of his universe outward versus inward. Had I known that this type of "character building" would involve my becoming a seamstress, we would probably be in swim class right now.

To digress, there are three things that my wonderful mother does that I just simply do not have the knack for: cooking a complete, EDIBLE table of food all at the same time without ruining a thing, physical and mental restraint from smothering my high maintenance father in his sleep and last, but not least, sewing. As I said, these three things she does exceptionally. These three things also make me doubt whether or not she could possibly really be my mother at all. Truly, as far as life skills go, she got the best and I got left behind.

So last week was Adam's first scout meeting. I go running off to the scout store to pick up all of the gear that Adam and Randy would need (somehow Randy ended up being a co-leader for the den they are in). Even as the nice lady at the store handed me the supplies (including the patches, I might add), it never dawned on me that I would have to do anything WITH them. Maybe I just wasn't thinking that far ahead or maybe I thought they just magically ended up on the uniform. Either way, imagine my surprise when, the day of the first meeting, I realized that somehow these handful of patches needed to find their way onto Adam's uniform.

T minus 2 hours before the meeting. I quickly flipped through my choices of ways to apply these patches: glue, staple, tape or stitch. I already eliminated ironing on by calling the scout store to get instructions for ironing on. It was then that I was told that the shiny stuff on the back of the badges that I thought was a heat activated adhesive is really just glue holding all the thread together. But Scott proceeded to tell me that they sell "a wonderful product called Badge Magic that makes the whole process simple". The only reason I can think of for not being told about this "wonderful product that makes the whole process simple" when I happened to be in the scout store was because of Murphy's Law. If you have two hours to go until your meeting and the round trip travel time to get to the supply store is one and a half hours then you will discover said "wonderful product that makes the whole process simple" only after it is too late to humanly do anything about it.

Then I went into crisis mode….I would have to attempt to sew these patches on. With what shall I sew them, dear Henry, dear Henry? Why your sewing kit from 1998, dear Liza, dear Liza. You remember it right? You wanted to make simple curtains to go onto the windows in the downstairs den. The whole project was completed using an iron and a roll of Stitch Witchery, needles and thread are so overrated! So I go in search of my "sewing kit". After a handful of house moves, it became painfully clear that the sewing kit did not survive. Adam would have to go to his very first cub scout meeting wearing just the uniform shirt. I had simply run out of time.

So a week ago, the school had an early dismissal day. Wyatt is Adam's friend from school and is also in the same cub den. His mother, Krista, and I arranged a playdate after school for them and for us to do some catching up. There comes Krista, up the driveway, carrying her sewing basket, my own version of the fairy godmother. We sat down at the kitchen table, arranged our patches and caught up on the last few weeks all the while sewing away with our sad but functional collection of sewing supplies. It was a modern day version of a quilting bee and as long as the shirt never has to be washed or worn inside out, it would have made our ancestors proud…..and my mother. I wonder if Adam's first badge-earning event will be sewing?

Susan comes to visit

2009-10-14T08:41:00.001-07:00

My college roommate from Nichols College in Massachusetts came to visit last week. She is living south of Boston and made the cross country trip to visit us in Seattle. The last time we saw her was 6 ½ years ago while we were living in Charlotte. Adam was only a baby at the time. I'm sure that it must have been a shock to look in the face of a 7 year old this time around, especially one that is now healthy. I was glad to have her come to Seattle to visit us as it is much more of a destination spot than Birmingham. Of course her purpose was to visit US so the amenities were just a fringe benefit, but it sure was nice to show off our city to her.

I'll post pics this week of our outings together. It was nice being a tourist with her. We've only been here a little over a year and I can tell we are already taking it for granted. We managed to do the major attractions with her, the Space Needle, Pike Place Market and shopping in the city. But I do think that we had just as much fun tooling around the peninsula, Point No Point lighthouse in Hansville, "Glass Beach" in Port Townsend, shopping in downtown Poulsbo which has a Scandanavian history, enjoying the ferry ride with a couple of nice views.

Susan & I at Point No Point Lighthouse in Hansville, WA. Lizzy took this picture, not bad!

All in all, we had a great time together and vowed not to wait another 6 years before doing it again. Seeing her reminded me of how much Randy and I love New England, so much that we are thinking of taking a vacation next year to Boston.

Simplicity

2009-10-12T09:22:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we hit the local pumpkin patch. It's a fall tradition in our house (as with many I am sure). Since my work schedule for the rest of the month has me working each weekend, it was now or never. I happened to have grand plans of us loading up and hitting a pumpkin patch off the island in Kingston, WA. It advertises a corn maze, hay mountain, train rides and the works. The price tag for this outing would have been $27 admission and that wouldn't count the pumpkins we purchased. I figured if we're going to do it, we may as well go all out, right?

Wrong! After having a friend from out of state visit us all week, I think the kids were at the tail end of their tolerance level for extravagant outings. I noticed all morning that Adam was complaining about going to this pumpkin patch, he even threw in some "my tummy hurts" and "I'm too tired" for good measure. They both suggested we go another time and it was only after I explained that I wouldn't be able to go with them because of work that they finally agreed but with conditions...

They insisted that we just visit the pumpkin patch that is located on Bainbridge. It's a small patch called Suyematsu Farms. They do a tiny hay maze and offer a quick ride around the patch. That's about it, no frills but no admission, everything is free, except for the pumpkins you choose. We were all a little tired so I have to admit that since they were willing to do this, we would all benefit.

What do you know? I do believe that they had just as good a time here, locally as they would have at the one in Kingston without the extra time in the car and the extra expense. I couldn't resist smiling to myself because they were perfectly content. I just think it goes to show that most often with kids, when you let them choose, it's not always about the most excitement or most extravagant thing. We are so busy these days and as a parent, I struggle with offering my kids the most fun they can have within reason. Naturally, my thoughts are to hit the big patch with all the bells and whistles. I am so relieved that I let them choose and that they had fun doing it. In the end, we spent $26.40 for our WAGON LOAD of pumpkins, paid no admission charges, enjoyed activities, spent 10 minutes in a car and supported our local farming community. Now to work on that Halloween party......

Our final stash a whopping $26.40 worth of pumpkins!

We Have Arrived and We Survived!

2009-10-01T20:10:00.001-07:00

Today the kids were out of school, Adam because of Parent/Teacher conferences and Lizzy because it is her normal day off. I decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to trek across the ferry and into Seattle to go to IKEA. Coming from the southeast, I had never heard of IKEA before. Of course, once we got here in the Pacific Northwest, it became apparent that IKEA is the place to go for affordable home furnishings.

I put off the trip to IKEA for over a year for many reasons. One, our first 6 months on Bainbridge had us living in a tiny 800 square foot apartment. Even if I had a desire for half of the things in the store, I had nowhere to use it. Two, the school schedules for the kids last year were so short that I couldn't possibly make it across on the ferry and back before time to get them. It wasn't long before I realized that the only way I would ever make it to IKEA was if I either took the kids with me or we went on the weekends (and this would include Randy going which would never happen in a million years!). So, that brings me to today….here I was with both kids home all day long and no deadline to worry about. It was now or never!

I only gave the kids less than 24 hours notice that we were going. They HATE leaving the island but they LOVE going to Seattle, as long as it is for pure fun. Boy was I in a pickle. I got a bit of whining that evening about what it meant…"how many miles is it to IKEA?" from Adam and "are there any toys there?" from Lizzy. I managed to glaze over the conversation by pulling out my personal weapons, the fact that IKEA had a play area and there would be ice cream involved. Bribe taken. We were on our way.

I was quite proud of how I handled my first time as an IKEA virgin. I had a few tips from my friends about comfy shoes and to take photos of things I liked because I wouldn't remember anything later. I even had a list of small things I wanted to attempt to get, mainly storage baskets for our den and some office accessories, nothing major. Before going in, I gave the kids the game plan. We would do a quick walk through the entire store with me making notes of things I wanted to look at longer. When we got to the restaurant, which is basically at the end of the trail, we would have lunch. After that with my ideas in mind, I would take the kids to the supervised play area and I would spend a power hour going back to grab the things I really wanted. After that we would peruse any other areas that were of interest and if they were good, ice cream would follow. It's a plan, right?

Aside from Adam asking every 5 minutes (no exaggeration here if you know Adam), if it was time for the play area, the kids did great. I think they loved walking through the showrooms so it felt like I giant play house to them. There was no goofing or running and I never had to reprimand them once. The restaurant was very kind to my wallet. Lizzy's mac n cheese with applesauce, jello and a chocolate milk set me back $4 and Adam's penne pasta ended up being only a dollar more but his was an adult portion.

Now it was FINALLY time for the play area. This was not your typical play area….I had a pager and an armband and the kids did too. The rooms were locked down and I admit they looked like fun! Even I wanted to go in there. So I did my power hour and aside from being at the other end of the store when it was time to go back (poor logistical planning there), all went well.

After the pick up, I had a few small things to wrap up. The kids likely had enough by now so I knew that anything else was pushing my luck. They got whinier about when it was time to go and how many more minutes. They started irritating each other which lead to the meltdown of Adam. Well I really can't complain. We were in the store for four hours but it had already been a long day with travel time included.

So in the end, I was glad to have done this even with the kids. I probably could have found a day some weekend and left them with Randy but then our family time would have suffered. I'm glad to say that I did it and I survived with 2 children in tow. I wonder if the kids will willingly go again even with the bribes and play area? I kind of think that was my one shot with them. And the best part? Coming out to the covered family parking area on a cold and rainy Seattle kind of day and seeing this truck on the way. What a nice laugh to end the afternoon. And Randy thought my car was a mess….

I think this guy needs to be on that cable show called Hoarders...Road Trip 2009! At first I though that he might be homeless (and he could very well be God help him) till I realized that he probably wouldn't be shopping at IKEA and probably wouldn't have much need for drawer organizers.

You say Tomato, I say Houshmanzadeh

2009-09-26T16:57:00.001-07:00

For those of you, unfamiliar with professional football, TJ Houshmanzadeh is the wide receiver for the Seattle Seahawks football team. He has been an "unofficial" member of our family for quite a while. We have this family story that has become quite funny. People sometimes look at us strangely when we tell it but it is as much part of our family as anything else so I will share it with you.

Anyone who knows Randy knows how much he loves to joke around, not just a little, but a lot. This story goes way back to the age old joke "Who's Your Mama?" Randy was always saying this to the kids to be funny. Eventually, the 'who's your mama?' turned into Houshmanzadeh. Randy would say things like TJ called and the kids would say, 'Who's TJ?' His answer would be 'TJ, Who's Your Mama' as a parody of the name Houshmanzadeh.

It wasn't long before it got weaved into everyday discussions. I would overhear Randy reading bedtime stories to the kids and somehow, TJ would make an appearance within the story. After a while, I guess Lizzy got a little tired of it and announced to her dad that he didn't need to always talk about TJ Houshmanzadeh.

That became the clincher of how TJ Houshmanzadeh became a member of our house. Lizzy sometimes struggles with saying certain words clearly. She pronounces pajamas as jamamas. She speaks of a propeller and calls it a copeller and pronounces tomato as topato. However, this 5 year old girl, with complete clarity rolls the name Houshmanzadeh off her tongue as easily as she says hello.

Naturally, once TJ Houshmanzadeh joined the Seattle Seahawks, it was only fitting that she wear the #84 football jersey. It's a very funny family story for us and one that we enjoy telling.

Comfort Food

2009-09-24T21:44:00.001-07:00

Randy has been in Miami all week for work. This is the first time he has been gone in almost two months and we really miss him. As always, when he is away, I try to simplify dinner as much as possible and this week was no exception. It really was no surprise that I reached into the freezer for a container of old faithful, his mom's homemade spaghetti sauce. Randy's mother, Libby, has been making this homemade spaghetti sauce for a very long time but at the very least since we have been together…13 years. It's been a very elusive thing. I have strong memories of spaghetti dinners at her house. When she started coming to visit us wherever we lived, I could easily convince her to make a batch. She always insisted that she be alone while making it, as if cooking solitaire was the secret ingredient. When she was finished, we usually had a dozen or so batches ready to go straight into the freezer. Amazingly enough, at just about the time we were down to our last couple of servings, she would reappear for a visit and get right back to work. I became so spoiled with her sauce that we never had spaghetti unless I had some of hers in the freezer. She never followed a recipe; each batch was done strictly by taste. That was the part that threw me…I simply have to follow a recipe to the last grain. My mind does not compute this style of cooking.

This summer she came to live with us for 2 months. We were hoping she would stay for good but the cards didn't play out that way and she felt like she needed to return to West Virginia. Lucky for us, she worked on a batch of sauce before she left. This time, however, it was a bit different. Instead of her usual solitary process, she included Lizzy and I. My duty was chopping the onions because that was the worst part for her. Lizzy's job, besides wearing this adorable Vera Bradley apron and looking cute as ever, was a little bit of stirring, counting the garlic cloves, etc.

I also managed to jot down a few notes about ingredients and technique. I don't know if I'll ever make sense of it later but it's a start. For Libby, it's all about feeding your family. I would swear that the lady was really Italian if I didn't know better, the way she's constantly trying to feed us and never thinks we get enough to eat. So each time I reach into the freezer for spaghetti sauce, we are reminded of her. We sit at the table as a family and though we are thousands of miles away, we are connected with her through the meal she has still managed to put in front of us. My only fear is that I won't be able to replicate this sauce and we will run out without the benefit of having her around to start all over. I hope I can get close enough to continue the tradition.

One Fish, Two Fish, Yellow Fish, New Fish

2009-09-22T22:08:00.000-07:00

Lizzy had been asking for a pet and for a while she teetered between wanting a fish or a hamster. After much delaying, we finally gave in at just the right moment....when she went back to asking for a fish. We figured that fish would be pretty simple, at least there was no chance of them disappearing in the house somewhere.

So the entire family treks to Petco where she picked out not one but two guppies and somehow we ended up with an African dwarf frog as well. I say that I don't know how that happened but once I learned that these particular frogs could live with the fish in perfect harmony, I was the one sold. Besides, he was just so darn cute!

Lizzy with her shopping cart all loaded up at Petco. September 7, 2009

On the way home, Lizzy chose the names. Finn would be the orange guppy, Sunny would be the yellow guppy and Jack would be the frog's name. We got them settled into their new one gallon fish bowl and everyone is happy.

The original crew, Jack the frog, Sunny the yellow guppy and Finn the orange guppy.

Until the next morning, that is. Whadduya know, Sunny cashed in his chips overnight. There he is floating at the bottom of the bowl. Darn! As a parent, this was a tough thing to see. Of course, before getting the fish, we had THE CONVERSATION about the POSSIBILITY of our new pets dying. Of course, Lizzy appeared to understand completely which even led into a very lengthy discussion in the car about whether or not we would see the fish again when it was our turn to go to heaven. Good grief.

Well I for one was not quite ready to break the news to my daughter that Sunny had already crossed over. Randy and I concocted this plan to switch out the fish without Lizzy noticing. Of course she noticed when Randy took the dead fish out. Where did he go, daddy? Somehow Randy convinced her that fish sometimes change colors when they are in the tank and because of the plants and the rocks and the reflections in the bowl, you can't even really see them.

Aside from a couple of comments about how Sunny looked different, she bought the story. Whew! Fast forward to two weeks later. Keep in mind that getting past the 2 week mark in guppy land is a milestone and supposedly, if you make it that far, you are golden. We literally had the new fish for 14 days and whadduya know? This morning, another floater. This time Lizzy actually saw him first and thought something might be wrong. Me being the coward that I am, still refused to tell her that yet another fish had died.

Instead, I proceeded to lie through my teeth that Sunny was probably very sick and needed to rest at the bottom of the bowl for a while. Already wondering how I was going to pull off yet another switcheroo, I formulated an idea that maybe we should put Sunny in a bag and take him into the pet store to see if they had any medicine to make him feel better. I even went so far as the head off the lady at the pet store and beg her to buy into my story. Luckily they had another yellow fish to switch out. She would bag up the new fish, complete with a couple of drops of some kind of blue coloring to help convince my poor five year old that Sunny had indeed been given medicine.

Well she bought it, for now that is. I think intiutively she knows he is dead and this is a new fish. She did notice immediately that Sunny's tail now has some squiggle markings on it and the black spot that was on the top of his head was gone. My answer was that the medicine changed his outside color because he had been so sick. Aside from a couple of comments about dead fish here and there throughout the day, the whole operation was a success.

More than likely, she's just humoring me. The joke is probably on me and she'll probably see a therapist about it later in her life. I am sure there is a special place in Hell for mothers who lie to their children this way. Hopefully it won't be lined with aquariums.....

Lizzy, Our Beautiful and Healthy Daughter

2009-09-18T08:41:00.000-07:00

Since I created the post about Adam and his unusual birth, I really have been thinking alot about Lizzy's birth. She recently celebrated her birthday as well, on July 21st where she turned 5. The absolute best word I can use to describe Lizzy's birth is "normal" wonderfully, thankfully normal. Who would ever think that normal is the BEST word a parent can use for their child's birth? Sounds strange I know. Of course, I can and will say that she was beautiful and healthy and we were elated to be blessed with a daughter. Somehow, for us as her parents, that doesn't quite describe it as well as the word normal does.

After such a wild roller coaster with Adam's birth and the events that followed, I really wondered if we would consider having more children. Of course, we vaguely talked about having more than one child, but in the wake of our experience with Adam, it was not something we wanted to even think about. There were too many what-ifs to consider, not to mention the fact that we had only been parents for a year and were just setttling into life without feeding tubes and bandages.

I know in my heart that making a conscious choice to have a second child would have been tough. What if she was born with a birth defect as well? How would we handle the challenge of that along with a toddler? What if the birth defect was much more serious and required more of us than we could handle? Even worse, what if she didn't survive?

Then along came our amazing surprise. I will always feel that this is the way our daughter was meant to come to us. A tiny gift from God letting us know that we were doing things right and that He was confident in our abilities as parents. Of course, I remember being afraid for her and for us as a family being able to handle whatever came our way. Then I realized that this was our path to take and hey, at least we knew a bit about babies who had special needs if something were to happen.

I have so much to thank Lizzy for. Even before she was born, she gave us the gift of peace that every mother and father should be able to experience at least once....

Thank you for allowing me to wake up each morning, peacefully and content. Thank you for the handful of ultrasounds (required only because of a prior high-risk pregnancy) where we got to simply watch how well you were growing without watching for what might have gone wrong along the way. Thank you for kicking and moving at all the appropriate times, I never minded the times that you wouldn't let me sleep. I relished that you were active and would have gladly stayed awake all night to know you were safe.

Thank you for growing big and strong and outweighing your brother by a half a pound. Thank you for the morning of your birth, where your dad, myself and your grandparents could go to the hospital without fear and anxiety. Thank your for those middle of the night feedings where the nurse could wheel you down to us free of wires. Thank you for drinking your bottle both happily and easily.

Thank you for doing everything on time: rolling over, sitting up, crawling and walking. There is something wonderfully comforting in seeing your child do everything on schedule. I know every child is different and that they meet milestones on their own clock but thank you for being a typical baby, we needed that so much.

I remember the day we brought her home from the hospital. Unlike Adam who spent three months in ICU, after two days it was time for her to go home. Wow! Randy and I looked at each other in disbelief. But she's so tiny, I thought. She seems too young. Do they really trust us to take good care of her right away? What are the first months like at home, without doctors and nurses to guide you along the way? Can we do this? Randy and I always chuckle about this because technically, we were doing this backwards. Most parents would be in shock over having to take care of a special needs baby and here we were worried about taking care of a perfectly happy and healthy newborn just two days old. We had already been through the challenging times and were just now getting to experience what the majority of parents in the world are lucky enough to experience the first time around.

A little kiss from big brother Adam while in the hospital, July 22, 2004

Bluefield Regional Medical Center - Bluefield, West Virginia

Now both children are finally on the same page and our fears as parents have transpired into typical concerns...are we disciplining the right way? Are we teaching them values that are important? Will they grow up to be caring, responsible and respectful adults? In a society where we want to emphasize children's strengths as individuals, where we work hard not putting them on the same benchmarks, I can honestly say that I value and respect the concept of being "normal" if not just for a little while. I'm still enjoying this word.

Lizzy's 1st day of school (K4), September 2, 2009 - St. Cecilia's Catholic School -

Bainbridge Island, WA

Adam turns 7!

2009-09-16T09:06:00.001-07:00

Today our "baby" boy turned 7. Wow, the time has flown! Each year on his birthday, I can't help but get a bit emotional at the road we've journeyed. I am thankful that he will always have birthdays that are fun and celebratory and that he is protected from the memory of his entrance into this world. That part is for us, his parents, to reflect on.

Adam was born with a birth defect called an omphalocele which is basically an umbilical hernia. Although the word hernia doesn't sound so bad, the nature of this type of birth defect was pretty serious. One in 16,000 babies experience this with the range being from minor to grand. Our little baby boy was in the grand category. As eager parents, we treated his birth day with joy yet fear. The doctors could never really promise that he would be born safely and once he was born, they couldn't guarantee that there wouldn't be complications severe enough to take him from us. Wow, heavy stuff for new parents.

Yet we approached this day with rose-colored glasses, refusing to allow the possibility that something terrible could go wrong. We had been given all of the statistics and all the worst-case scenarios but we had two things on our side, hope and faith. I believe that from the moment we found out about his birth defect, we were graced with God's presence. It is an indescribable sense of peace to know that you have put your child and your future in God's hands.

This photo was taken from the NICU the day after he was born. It was the first really good Randy could take of him because of all the wires and bandages.

The good news is that we all got through and when he was 3, he had the final surgery to correct the problem. We surely had our ups and downs along the way but officially today, he has lived longer without his condition that he did with it. We are thankful and humbled by this. I know that every child has a purpose and this little boy has an imprint to make on the world. I am lucky to be his mom.

1st day of First Grade, Blakely Elementary, Bainbridge Island, Washington

Initiative vs. Fashion

2009-09-12T21:21:00.000-07:00

(This is an old post from a different blog that I was running a while back. Just wanted to make sure it ended up on this one)

It was spring break for us this week. In an effort to deviate from our usual out of school activities, I discovered a local place called the Naval Undersea Musueum. Full of exhibits about submarines and navy life, I figured this would be a good experience to learn about an area which is heavily influenced by the Navy. Lizzy happened to be very excited to hear about our afternoon excursion and made a mad dash to get ready. Keep in mind that this is the girl who will be sent to get shoes and somehow ends up stopping off to play with dolls and peruse a book where I usually find her 20 minutes later with no interest in locating her shoes. Imagine my surprise when I had barely had time to close down the museum website before she reappears at my office door. This wonderful, little four year mess is clearly very proud of the fact that she can take credit for getting herself ready for this trip from head to toe. She has managed to brush her hair, complete with a couple of accessories, and get dressed to include socks and matching shoes (which is a point of contention in our house, I might add). As if that weren’t enough, she already has her coat on and has loaded her backpack with all the things she thinks she might need, which consists of her pony named Glitter, a book and a rubber ducky – isn’t this all anyone ever needs? Upon closer look, I discover that the back of her head never stood a chance of getting hit by the brush and it was apparent that the location of the barrettes were determined by the length of her arms and the view from her mirror. She is wearing a purple turtleneck sweater and brown leggings with giant pink flowers underneath a yellow skirt. She obviously is a logical child. After all, if purple goes with yellow and yellow goes with brown then all three go together to make the perfect outfit.

The Southern mother in me had to refrain from rushing to her closet to locate a perfectly coordinated outfit just before dragging her to the bathroom for a good brushing and matching hair accessories, preferably a big ‘ole bow. I took a deep breath, silently recalling a much uttered mantra that is used in our house about “picking our battles” and exclaimed what an AWESOME job she did getting herself ready. She was proud, I didn’t have to spend 20 minutes getting her to find shoes, we were both happy. Who was I to interfere?