Life According to K

Our Blazers Game (Steal-a-Post)

2012-01-28T20:22:00.000-08:00

We took our three older kids to the Trailblazers game last Monday, but my friend Kelly wrote all about it, so I'll just let you read about it on her blog.

http://seemommyrun.blogspot.com/2012/01/jimmermania.html

You're Speakin' My Language...

2012-01-28T19:40:00.000-08:00

I've been meaning to write a post for a while now about the Jackson and Addy "dialects" of English. This is one of those "cute things I want to remember someday when they're older" posts, so bear with me.

Jackson:

I. Don't. Want. Dat. EEEEE-DDDDDDDEER!!! (I don't want that either!!!!)
I'm wary firsty (I'm very thirsty)
I meed it ("I need it", or even better in its elongated form below...)
I meed sump-ing (I need something)
"Dang quesadill-la!" (Napoleon Dynamite, anyone?)
"I meed my screen time!"

Addy:

Nammies (jammies)
Dopper (diaper)
Ah-bee dah-doo (Happy Birthday)
Ah-bee Dah-doo cannels ("Happy Birthday candles" or even better...)
[sung] "Ah-bee dah-doo Addycakes, Ah-bee dah-doo Addycakes, Ah-bee DAH-DOO, addycakes"
Fank-oo mommy! (Thank you, mommy!)
Cheese-a-dee-yup (Her amalgamation of "Quesadilla" and "Cheesy Roll-up." We never eat at Taco Bell. Honest.) :)

P.S. Addy learned how to actually pedal on her trike this week! She practices in circles all around the house all day. Yes, I'm one of those moms....

Sometimes Someone Says It For You

2012-01-17T23:03:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while you find someone who writes exactly what you wanted to say, but better. I don't know if all parents feel this way, but I sure do...

Don't Carpe Diem

The One Place Where I'm Always Too Thin

2012-01-16T17:05:00.000-08:00

As a mom of four I constantly find myself spread too thin, despite my best efforts to take stuff out of my life. I wish I could take this talent and instead constantly find myself too thin around my thighs or abdomen, but alas, my talent is limited.

It doesn't help that today the kids had the day off of school. I had what I thought were very modest expectations for the day: take the van in to get the remote locks fixed, clear the junk pile off my computer desk and maybe make sandwiches for lunch. I somehow got sucked into several of loads of laundry, dealing with a temper tantrum and transferring CDs to my computer and several other things.

It's a familiar pattern. I start what seems like a simple task. As I make ever-more-desperate attempts to finish I get constantly interrupted by the latest crisis: by Jackson head-butting into me for the fun of it, Addy climbing on my lap, Jared explaining exactly why Camryn is in the wrong in their latest disagreement, Camryn asking if I will let her make breadsticks, the dog chewing a plastic container lid or Addy deciding to bite my arm just for the fun of it (10 seconds ago). Eventually I give up and flee my laundry folding/desk organizing/dish-doing attempts for the temporary consolation of facebook/blogging/eating a snack that doesn't look like it has too many calories.

There are people out there that have children and appear to still be partially sane. What's their secret?

Hindsight

2012-01-11T16:30:00.001-08:00

Today I was slated to teach a song for Camryn's activity days. Jared wanted to stay home, so I let him. Jackson was getting ready to play "Don't Break the Ice" and didn't want to come. Nonetheless, Jared and Jackson fight like cats and dogs so I insisted that Jackson come with me.

He screamed the whole way here, the whole time I taught the song and continues to whine while we wait for Cam to be done. Yay.

PS Blogging on an iPhone with a screaming toddler on your lap is less effective. Just sayin'.

My Feminist Rant of the Day

2012-01-10T10:41:00.000-08:00

Recently I found a link to a website on Pinterest that just pushed all my feminist buttons and I just needed to have a good rant about it. It is a cutesy blog about "strengthening marriages," but to my admittedly very jaded eyes it just screams "ignored wives trying to get self-absorbed and checked-out husbands to actually acknowledge that they exist."

I freely admit that the concept of "dating" your spouse is a really good one-- I've always been an advocate of that-- but the idea (which the website implies) that it is entirely the wife's responsibility to plan dates, "spice up the marriage" and "focus on her husband" really rubs me the wrong way. I'm all for dating, but whatever happened to just getting some food and having an honest, real conversation for three hours? Or maybe having your husband take a turn putting in some effort to plan something fun and creative? You know, like a loving, mature relationship of equal partners? But beyond these *minor* irritations, it's just plain hard for me to not instantly hate a website where one of the writers lists as the craziest thing she's ever done:

"Get ready for it..........I modeled a swimsuit on TV just 8 weeks after delivering my triplets!"

Well you know how I react when that happens... Seriously?! Ohmygosh, I just HATE it when I do that. My DEAR hubby was so {embarassed} for me when I did that. ROFL! You are SO {crazy}!. .... So way to pin a rose on your nose. Yes, I'm a bitter old woman. I think we've established that. [Disclaimer: I make no pretense to being impartial, objective or fair in my representation of this website. I reserve the right to quote only the *best* portions of said website.]

So here is their intro:

"We began this lil’ venture of dating our spouses, just like anyone else…..waaay back before we said, “I Do”! Back when dates were the most important element of our life and held a high status over all else. {WINK} Being at the top of our lists, the focus on dating helped us fall MADLY in love with the men we now call our DEAR husbands."

I don't know about you, but dates were always the most important element of my life and held a high status over all else. {Wink} Dumb things like my education, developing my talents or trying to contribute to the world were always on back burner, FOR SURE.

"We all know that marriage can become TOO comfortable {a.k.a. routine} and dating your amazing spouse – the way you did when first falling in love… is the sure-fire way to keep that SPARK in marriage!"

And that means crazy, over-the-top dates like having dinner on a table set up in the middle of a traffic median. What better way to fan the flames of romance?

Lest you question their cred in giving marriage advice, they have pictures of each of the "divas" posted to prove their attractiveness. http://www.thedatingdivas.com/meet-the-divas/ But wait... one of these things is not like the other. No, wait. They all are. Exactly like the others. Over-made-up. But who could love a woman without piles of make-up on? Whew. You wouldn't want to get marriage advice from anyone who was unattractive. {Eek!}

Their website tells us how all of these girls had the same "problem":

"Each of them was married to a super-duper hottie, of course, but they were discovering that they were letting LIFE take over...and weren't focusing on their husbands as much as they would like!"

Gasp! Oh no! Everyone knows that a woman's greatest purpose in life is to focus on her husband! How could they? The obvious solution? Over-planned cutesy dates, making sure to choose their husbands' favorite take-out spots instead of their own. (Because we all know how selfish those mommies are. Stuck on themselves and their babies! Hardly any sex at all! Good grief, what's a man to do? Any problems are always due to the wife not focusing on her husband like she needs to. Duh.) P.S. I'm glad they reassured us that their husbands are "hotties." Why would you waste time on a guy who wasn't physically attractive above all else? That is the most important thing in a person, right?

Before I get angry responses that there is nothing wrong with devoting time/attention to your husband, craftsy-ness, "not letting yourself go," doing nice things for your husband, being unselfish in a relationship or actually planning a date, I freely acknowledge and concur with all of the above. I'm sure many of the date ideas mentioned on the website are really good and would be fun. I'm not implying that women should just ignore the needs of others, be selfish, be ashamed of being craftsy or promote boring/serious dates that aren't "super-cute" (well, at least not too much). But my personal experience is that way too many women with families become totally caught up in the needs of others and lose track of the fact that they are people too, with needs and feelings of their own.

I guess my beef with the whole thing is the implication that it is the wife's responsibility to "focus on her husband" and that if the quality of the relationship is sliding it is because she needs to make things great for him, rather than a relationship being a partnership and built between two people. And I think there is a very strong cultural bias that makes women feel like they are failing personally and need to fix something if their partner is disengaged or not meeting their needs. I'm not implying that you can or should try to make someone else change, but you shouldn't immediately assume that it is your fault because you are failing or doing something wrong either. Each partner needs to attend to his/her own needs, their partner's needs and their needs as a couple and work through those together.

"Focusing on your husband" can perpetuate a cycle where the wife over-functions in their relationship (often while under-functioning in regards to meeting her own needs) to desperately try to get the husband to engage. Meanwhile, the husband habitually under-functions in the relationship and slides along while his wife tries to compensate for him ignoring what should be his contribution to the relationship. She pursues/he distances. She over-functions/he lets her take care of everything. (See Harriet Lerner's "The Dance of Anger," "The Dance of Intimacy," et al). And issues like that might need to be addressed more directly than by making sure your make-up is cute and you have an elaborate plan for your upcoming date. But that's just my nerdy philosophizing. And if you don't agree with me, at least you'll get some great marriage mileage out of the following ideas:

http://www.thedatingdivas.com/just-the-two-of-us/hijack-kidnap-him/ Personally, I think handcuffing your spouse to your arm and dragging him to get take-out is always a good idea. What guy doesn't love being dragged to his favorite take-out spot in feathered handcuffs? Super-cute!!! {WINK}
http://www.thedatingdivas.com/kiirsten/lingerie-for-him/ Um, seriously? We all know the solution to a low female libido is not attention to HER sexual or emotional needs, sharing, emotional connection or feeling heard, but just Batman underpants. ("But honey, I found this great idea on a website...")
This one is particularly barfy. http://www.thedatingdivas.com/kiirsten/after-the-baby/ The thing every new mom needs to be told after surviving nine months of pregnancy and delivering a baby is to...

Be sure to lay out your husband's pj's for him so he can relax
Send notes to him "from the baby" on his phone all day long
Don't talk about how hard your day was
"Dress up cute for your man and be there for him. They understand what you are going through so they will be happy with anything that you do. So dressing up cute (or even a little skimpy – ahem, especially if you are nursing – WINK) would lead to other things without involving intercourse [while you're on your post-baby 'pelvic rest']."
Buy him a Willow Tree statue of a dad holding his baby with a cute note attached. [What every man dreams of! Okay, who knows? Maybe there are men that are into that kind of thing....]
And since no man could possibly survive six weeks without sex, they will prep you on how to care-take him there too. Phew. Because the most important thing you need to think about during those first six weeks is NOT recovering from a major medical event, adjusting to parenthood, trying to maintain your sanity with no sleep, meeting the needs of a new baby, adjusting to breastfeeding, recovering from stitches/tearing/afterpains or wondering whether you (including your nether parts) will ever feel/look/function the same again. (Or maybe wondering how YOU will survive without "getting some" for six weeks or how it will work if a baby screams in the middle of it or if it will ever not be painful post-episiotomy or tearing.) No, the most important thing is making sure your husband can survive that six week "dry spell" while you are "selfishly" wrapped up in the baby. Because the only possible reason for a woman to exist is to do cutesy things for her husband, provide sex and have no needs/thoughts/feelings of her own, right?? And everyone knows the only way that a women feels fulfilled is by having a man who wants to have sex with her.

I'm not saying that you don't need to include him in parenting, address your husband's feelings or his physical/emotional/sexual needs upon becoming a father, but the implication that it's the wife's responsibility to anticipate/fix everything is downright pukey to me. How about a simple, "Honey, this is what I am feeling and needing right now. What are you feeling and needing right now?"

Sure, I could also make snarky comments about the men's websites full of tips on "lookin' good for your spouse," how to date your wife, "spice it up" and make sure your wife is "fulfilled" during the six weeks she is on pelvic rest after a baby, except-- oh wait. There aren't any. Actually, I lied. There are a few websites on "How to Date your Wife," but the only ones I could find were either written or co-written by women. You mean we have a cultural void in that area? You're kidding! Too bad.

Quick, Before I Miss a Month...

2011-12-31T17:00:00.000-08:00

I realized that if I posted something really quickly I could get at least one post in for December. What can I say? I've been busy. Maybe bullet points would be best:

Back in November we got a dog. Yes, a dog. I'm still in shock. Especially because it was my idea. (Not the idea of getting a dog originally, but the idea to cave in at this particular time and with this particular dog was mine.) The kids are thrilled. Dave (shockingly) loves her. I am surviving. (She just came to lick me... maybe she's trying to remind me that she's cute and not so very bad....) :)
Cantico performed at The Grotto festival of lights on Friday Dec. 2nd. It went well, despite the fact that our harpist's employer was in a car accident and home an hour later than expected, leaving said harpist with several children and a gig she was going to miss. She ended up making it 3/4 the way through the performance, but with some creative order changes to the program we only had to substitute piano for one song.
The Cantico Concert was on Saturday, Dec. 10th at The Old Church. I directed, Dave sang. It was fantastic. Dave's mom flew out for the weekend to be there for it. I. LOVE. MY. CHOIR!
Finished out my Christmas music stuff by accompanying a fabulous local violinist for a fireside on the 11th.
Hosted Christmas at my house- finding extra beds for my parents, their dog, three sisters, one spouse, and a baby. Had a fabulous Christmas with a full house of guests
Took my parents, sisters and brother-in-law to experience Portland food carts and Pok Pok.
Went with my family and all of our guests (except the dogs) on an overnight trip to Seattle for a friend's wedding reception. Threw in Pike's Place Market, the Underground Tour and torrential rain on the way home, just for fun.
Firmly resolved to fit a nap into my New Year's Resolutions.

A Recant

2011-11-29T08:55:00.000-08:00

I take it back. I am not peaceful. I am not calm. Pee-pee is the enemy. My sworn enemy for life. I don't care how cute you are-- DO NOT MAKE PEE-PEE ON THE CARPET IN MY HOUSE OR IN YOUR UNDERWEAR!!!!!!!

Just Another Day

2011-11-28T22:33:00.000-08:00

Today was a fairly happy, peaceful day. And I'm not being sarcastic as I write that. It was a nice, laid-back, fairly normal day. There are lots of lovely, happy and interesting things that happen to me-- things like reading a good book, searching for great choral music and eating delicious cupcakes-- I just don't choose to write about them on my blog. Instead I write about poop. If I ever become a freelance writer and write a book, it will probably be called "Flush: Close Encounters with Poop" or maybe just "A Narrative History of Poop and Diapering." Haven't you always wondered how people dealt with diapers in the 1800's? If you lived in a one-room cabin and it was freezing cold outside, how on earth did you dry your laundry? The answer is you probably didn't wash it in the first place. But what if you had diapers? They would have to be washed. How would you dry them? On a clothesline in the cabin? What if they froze first? Would you duck under the clothesline to set the table? But now I digress. Back to my happy day.

Addy had playgroup today. It was at a house in our neighborhood, so I walked her over. Jackson and I came back just in time for me to rehearse with someone I am accompanying for a musical number. Toward the end of the rehearsal my phone rang, but I ignored it-- I was in a rehearsal and trying to concentrate. Then my cell phone rang. I ignored it too. My phone rang again; my cell phone rang again. After several rounds of this, I decided whoever it was really wanted to talk to me, so I picked up the phone. It was the mom from playgroup. Addy was really fussy and pulling at her ear. So I ended my rehearsal, went to pick Addy up and took her to the doctor.

Sure enough, Addy had an ear infection. The doctor wrote a prescription for an antibiotic and I went to Target to get it filled. I drove through Taco Bell to get Jackson and Addy lunch, made a list in the Target parking lot while they ate it, and felt quite pleased with myself and my high level of organization.

We went to Target, procured the necessary items (as well as several more, as typically happens at Target) and started to make our way toward the checkout. Jackson was looking at some Legos and started to dance around a bit.I should have made him stop and taken him to the bathroom right then and there, but we only had one item left (night-time diapers, ironically enough). We went to get the last item and I got distracted looking at shirts for Addy. At this point Jackson realized he needed to go and told me he needed to use the potty. So we made a beeline to the front of the store to the bathrooms.

Jackson insisted he could go potty by himself and wanted me to stay outside. I'm all for fostering independence, but for the sake of safety went into the bathroom with him and let him go in the stall by himself. A minute later peeked under the door to see how he was doing. There was a puddle in front of the toilet and a teeny bit of poop on the floor that he was about to step in. I opened the door and saw poop smeared on the potty, in his underwear, on his pants, on the floor and even on the bottom of his shoes. He still didn't want me to help, but that wasn't an option at this point. So I spent the next 20 minutes cleaning up poop and pee from his shoes and the bathroom stall.

As I finally restored Jackson to some semblance of cleanliness, I pondered my options. I had a full cart of groceries and household items I still needed to pay for sitting outside the bathroom. I had left the diaper bag in the car. Jackson's underwear and pants he had been wearing were now reasonably clean and poop-free but completely wet. Somewhere in the new mommy introduction class i took at the hospital they skipped the part when they reviewed your options for checking out of Target with a half-naked four-year-old. Should I leave him in the bathroom and go buy a pair of undies and pants so I could finish my shopping? I didn't really feel comfortable sticking 'naked boy' in the cart, but it would be a bit awkward walking around Target with a boy who was only wearing tennis shoes from the waist down. The diaper bag was in the car, so I decided my best option was to take him out and get him some clean underwear. We marched out to the car with Jackson buck naked from the waist down except for his tennis shoes. Getting to the car was a laborious process because he kept trying to hide (so people wouldn't see him naked).

We got to the car, got clean underwear but found that the diaper bag did not have a clean pair of pants. I was sorely tempted to just leave (even with an hour's worth of Target stuff in our cart back in the store), but I remembered that Addy's prescription was still in the cart and we had already opened a box of fruit snacks we were going to buy and eaten a few packs (all by me, of course-- love those fruit snacks). :) So I got a new cart, sat Jackson in the cart basket and set his jacket over his legs so people wouldn't see that he was only in his undies. We went in, took our cart through the checkout and then left. Although I never did manage to get those night-time diapers.

And I managed to stay quite calm and composed through the entire thing, with nary a curse word muttered under my breath. Acceptance, right? "There is nowhere I should be or anything I should be doing besides exactly what I'm doing right now. I am right where I need to be." Even if that is trying to figure out how to get poop off of 4T sweatpants in the Target bathroom.

Did I mention that we got a dog? At least she is housebroken-- well, mostly-- which is more than I can say for Jackson.

Tranquilizers Please?

2011-11-15T00:32:00.000-08:00

One of the unfortunate side effects of only posting twice in a month is that nobody reads your blog anymore. Sigh. That would be more disappointing if I were actively writing posts.

Tonight was one of those nights when I wished it was legal to give your kids tranquilizers. Long day, even longer evening. I was awakened this morning just before six by a certain three-year-old who had wet his bed-- soaking completely through the night-time diaper that he had on to drench everything. After stripping the bed, replacing the sheets, showering him off, re-making the bed, and getting him clean pajamas, I went back to bed. Dave got the older kids off to school and let me sleep in.

I woke up after nine and realized that Addy was supposed to be at playgroup at nine. So I jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes and raced her over to playgroup, getting there a half hour late. When I dropped her off I was really impressed with the mom doing playgroup that day. I had never been to this friend's house for playgroup before and she totally went all-out. She had set up some play tents, had dress-ups out for the girls to play in and even had a few extra kids there. Hmmmm, maybe I should consider stepping it up a bit when it's my turn. It wasn't until I returned to pick Addy up at 11:30 and she had a party bag and foam crown that I connected that it was a birthday party. We had received an invitation to a birthday party (that was planned to coincide with playgroup so all of the playgroup girls could come) and I had totally spaced it. No RSVP, no gift. Yikes. Good thing I got *so much* work done on the computer while Addy was gone (while Jackson sat on my lap sticking his hand in front of the computer screen, pushing buttons or pulling on my arms). The party was a rousing success, as evidenced by the ginormous fit that Addy threw when she had to take off her princess dress to leave.

The afternoon was punctuated by Jackson screeching and ended up with me giving in to pleas from Jared to zone out to Plants vs. Zombies (which the other children watched, entranced, for some time). I succumbed to Camryn's request for me to buy eggs so she could make cookies, which resulted in a trip to Target with four kids to buy said eggs and the forgotten birthday present. Trips to Target with four kids are always exciting, so we tried to keep it short.

The minutes leading up to dinner ended with mass pandemonium as Camryn mixed cookies, I made frozen Ravioli, Jackson incessantly whined for milk (which will lead to him not eating his dinner), Dave madly tried to finish something on the computer for work and Jared argued with Addy (yes, the two year old) about where to put the plates on the table. We had dinner and a short family night/calendering session. Did I ever mention that it is really hard to write neatly on a calender when two different kids are climbing on and off your lap? We frosted cookies and had only two of them bite the dust and end up frosting-side down on the floor. Eventually I retreated to my computer, hoping the kids would eventually fall off to sleep by themselves-- which they didn't. I finally gathered enough courage to face putting them to bed whilst Dave still worked on his presentation for tomorrow.

I have been working on a series of house projects over the past week or so and they are starting to build up in varying degrees of incompleteness. I have ten things that need to be returned, five things to buy, a car that is six weeks late for an oil change and an overdue library video. The Cantico concert is in less than a month and things are piling up for that as well. How do you fit a 7-foot piano, 20 singers, a harp and an oboist on a 25x12 foot stage in an aesthetically pleasing and artistically functional way? Unfortunately, they didn't cover topics like that in my music major classes.

I have been trying to work recently on counting my blessings, but something about that phrase really rubs me the wrong way. (Am I allowed to say that during November? Will lightning strike me dead?) I'm not saying that I'm not thankful or don't think I need to be thankful. It's just that that particular phrase "Count your blessings" seems to come with a whole subtext for me. Something along the lines of: "Count your blessings. It could always be worse-- and probably will be soon if you don't start showing some gratitude. Don't you realize how easy you have it? Poor you, to have to struggle with central heating, plentiful food, automatic washing machines and four beautiful children that you chose to bring into this world. Tough cookies."

I guess my trouble is not so much with counting my blessings. I am grateful. It's that I feel like in order to truly "count my blessings" I can't-- or don't have the right to-- to acknowledge that I struggle and things are hard, even though I am very blessed. I feel like "counting my blessings" is equated with me saying, "My life is easy and everything is smooth sailing. Any difficulties I have are so minor compared with my blessings that they hardly even count." Which may be true, but isn't what I need to hear-- or have it in me to say-- after an exhausting day caring for four children.

Last week I was thinking a lot about God and how he shows his love for us. I get irritated by children's books and such that say things like, "I know God loves me because I have a nice home and good parents." Does that mean that God loves the children less who are born into poverty or have abusive parents? I don't think God is like that. I have a good friend who is going through a lot of major difficulties in her life right now, yet more than probably anyone else I know right now, she knows that God loves her. It got me to thinking that frequently we equate God's love for us with the level of ease or comfort in our lives when actually those things are completely decoupled. Did God love Job? Then why did he let terrible things happen to him? Did he approve of King Herod more than Jesus (as evidenced by Herod's wealth, power and ease)? No. Negative things are part of being human and mortal. Pain is a way for us to learn and grow (and not one that I particularly like, I might say). But pain is not evidence of my--or God's-- failure.

It is much easier for me to accept difficult things when I don't start thinking, "What did I do wrong to deserve this?" and instead think, "This is temporary. With God's help, I will learn from this and become stronger."

So back to being thankful.... If I can decouple God's love for me with things being easy, then maybe it is okay for me to decouple being thankful from having to feel like things are easy. Maybe it is okay to say, "Today was a really hard day-- and I'm thankful my kids are asleep. I'm thankful for the opportunities I had to grow-- but I'm even more thankful that they have temporarily subsided." :) And maybe it is okay to say, "I am abundantly blessed and tremendously thankful-- and my life is difficult and hard (at least for me) and challenges me to my very core." Being thankful doesn't mean having to ignore the painful and the ugly and pretend they aren't there-- they still are, no matter how grateful you are. For me being thankful is not letting the painful and ugly crowd out the beautiful and sweet. Letting the pain overshadow and drive out the joy is just as untrue as pretending that the pain isn't there in the first place. So maybe I need to add to my goals-- along with peacefuly coexisting with pee-pee-- to learn to peacefully, thankfully coexist with discomfort, but to see it and acknowledge it just the same.

Enough pontificating. Off to bed.

Only the Elect... It's Election Day!

2011-11-08T22:37:00.000-08:00

Today is Election Day-- which is reason to celebrate, even in an off year, right? Right???

Well, even if you're not excited about the opportunity to fulfill your civic responsibility to weigh in on who would be the best judge you've never heard of in District 57A, I think today is the perfect opportunity to make my one political post of the year. I personally have regressed from being very politically active and having strong political opinions to a persistent waffling between disillusioned, disappointed or just plain disheartened. But even being disheartened and disillusioned require effort, so I have subsided into just plain apathy.

Nevertheless, I firmly believe in fulfilling my civic responsibility to vote. While I typically do a night-before crash course examination of the candidates the night before, this year I picked up my "Voter's Pamphlet" guide to the candidates several weeks early so I had plenty of time to peruse the half-page blurbs informing me of why I should vote for each person. I was richly rewarded for my studiousness with an exciting array of candidates to represent me in Congress (and this was only the Primary, people!).

Candidate #1: I will call LuLu. She is an "Independent Media Consultant" (which instantly brought to mind the quote from Father of the Bride: "That's just a fancy term for unemployed!"). She says I should elect her because she "supported our government's efforts to find and punish the 9/11 masterminds." Who were all hiding in Iraq, right? She assures me that she will "vote to bring home... [our] troops as soon as our ground commanders agree it is safe." Um, maybe she is worried about all of the soldiers from bad neighborhoods? I know Iraq can be scary, but have they ever been to East L.A.? Besides, she promises that she can balance the budget in five years or less. Take that!

Candidate #2: I will call DeeDee. Her occupation: IUOE, since June 1, 1994 (not June 10, in case you were wondering). And you couldn't be wondering exactly what an IUOE is because everyone knows that. (If you are so uninformed, Google will tell you it is International Union of Operating Engineers.)
But she expands upon this by giving an extensive occupational background, complete with punctuation inconsistencies and some excellent grammatical examples along the lines of "Since November 1982, I became a Construction Corporation Vice President." (That's a looooong process.) But just in case you are biased against construction or IUOE, she is sure to include that she worked for TG&Y Department store from 1972-1974. (That alone got my vote. I used to have my pictures taken there when I was a kid.) Before 1972 she helped the elderly clean their homes.

Instead of pointing out how she can use her cleaning experience to "clean out" the crap on Capitol Hill or use her TG&Y experience to "sort through the junk" in all of the bills coming to her desk, she asks me to vote for her based on the fact that her parents will be married 60 years in April and she and her husband have been married 25 years. She is quick to point out that she met her husband while working on a project together but they began their relationship "2 years later, long after the job was complete." (Phew!)

Candidate #3: Starts by using the "Occupation" space to promote his physical/mental/fitness program "Get Energized" for "governments, businesses and public," complete with a phone number and URL for his website. His program prevents illnesses or diseases and slows down aging. (Did he mention he's in excellent health? Yes, he did.)

He is the most experienced of all of the candidates, with a background that includes "speaker, inventor, ... coach, manager (had an Award), supervisor, social worker, counselor, machinist, mechanic, welder, truck driver, logger, firefighter and beekeeper." Regardless of the fact that he could put his skills to work welding congress together and putting out governmental fires, I don't know if I could really fully support him without knowing that he kept bees or was a manager-- who had an award. (If you aren't already convinced, he has governmental experience in "Tank Army.")

This guy is bold. He claims, "No one better than me could help/rescue this state and nation." (So does he mean that there is no one better than him to help out there or that anyone who is better than him wouldn't be able to help?) But you can't claim that he pussyfoots around issues. Oh no, he gives a long list of (creatively punctuated-- I've tried to replicate it) promises including:

To defend this country from weapons of mass destruction,
Economy: I have a plan to create a few thousands jobs in Oregon and a few millions jobs in the USA.
Budget: balance it in a few months. [Now take that, Miss "I'll balance it in five years"!]
Health Care: to all, cut cost of drugs.
Car Insurance is a Street Robbery. If no accident - 50% money back. [I'm not sure what this is, but if it's money back, I like it!]
Crimes: harder punishment
Elect US Judges/Attorneys,

There is still more on his platform, including teaching children respect for parents, teachers and the elderly and helping to make peace in the MiddleEast. What can I say? He's got it covered.

There are two more candidates left to go, but this post is too long already and I voted over a week ago. I just wanted to celebrate the diversity and options we have available to us as Oregonians as we choose representatives to carry on our tradition of a democratic republic. Hooray for America!

In Commemoration

2011-11-06T22:25:00.000-08:00

I looked at my blog today and realized that it has been exactly a month since I wrote a blog post. So I decided to commemorate the occasion with this not-a-blog. The end.

(I really do have lots to write about, but whenever I am conducting Cantico my blog posts get few and far between. One of these days I'll catch up... soon... honest.

Out of Practice

2011-10-06T00:19:00.000-07:00

Dave used to travel a lot for work, but recently he hasn't had to travel very much, except for an occasional short trip to the Bay Area. Last week Dave had one of these one-night business trips (which by his company's standards, hardly even counts as a trip). I had the kids by myself for Monday and Tuesday. I'm a little bit out of practice on this business trip thing and I had a hard time on Monday, so I decided to make some plans for Tuesday to make things easier on me. The YMCA didn't have any Childwatch spots available, so I decided to take the kids to "Pump it Up" (one of these inflatable bounce house places) after school so I could read a book while they played. Then we would go out to dinner on the way home and I had a babysitter set up for the evening.

I took the kids to Pump it Up and settled in to read my book-- or at least tried to. They were playing really loud music-- so loud that it was hard to concentrate on my book (and, as the mother of 4 children, I'm pretty talented at blocking out noise). Jared felt a need to race Jackson up the slide which incited screeching and screaming in Jackson and protests of unfairness from Jared when I tried to mediate between the two of them. The two of them argued incessantly in between time-outs.

Addy discovered that the drinking fountain was WAY more fun than any of the bounce houses, so she spent her time seeing how wet she could get her clothes. I made Jackson go to the potty as soon as we got there, but about 1 hour into our excursion, as he was walking between bounce houses he stood in one place with the ever-so-slightest knee squat and a slightly pained expression on his face. "Jackson!!" I called, "Stop. Let's get to the potty!" But it was too late. He had pooped in his underwear. I took him to the bathroom where he got put in a pull-up. (I admit it. The underwear got deposited in the Pump it Up bathroom garbage. There's only so much one can handle. My belated apologies to the staff for the smell....)

After I got Jackson sufficiently cleaned up, he sat on time out for the rest of the time we were there-- which, of course, incited more screaming. I finally gave up and decided it was time for dinner. I had bought a groupon for Baja Fresh, so I decided to stop there to get something moderately tasty/healthy for our dinner. We ordered my Baja Bowl and four kids meals and we sat up to eat. The tray our food came on got stuck in the center of the table. Someone bumped it and it sent Camryn's plate flying off the table, Mexican Rice scattering everywhere. I dove to save what I could of her Taquitos and in the shuffle, the tray got bumped again. This time Jackson's plate went flying off the table. At this point, I realized that we didn't have enough time to finish eating and still get home in time to meet the babysitter and for me to make it to my appointment, so we packed all of our food in to-go boxes and got in the car. The babysitter was waiting at our house when we pulled into the garage. She came to help get the kids out of the car. As she opened the passenger sliding door, the door handle broke off.

I think this may be the part of the story where I start wildly tossing kids out of the car, saying "Please take them!" as I drive off, screeching around the corner. Or start scratching my head at exactly what part of "Pump it Up" and "Baja Fresh" combined with four kids sounded fun. Or ponder how exactly to break it to my husband that business trips and I don't get along so well anymore.

Funny Things the Kids Say

2011-10-03T09:47:00.000-07:00

Here are some funny things that the kids have been saying recently:

Jackson:

"I'm wary firsty." (He's never just thirsty. Always very thirsty.)
"Cubumber" (for cucumber)
"My birthday is in bohbember."
"It's too louder!"
"I! don't! want! dat! eeder!!!!" (I don't want that either!-- even if what you were suggesting wasn't an alternative at all....)
"Is it tomorrow yet?"
"Is it still today?"
J: What time is it? Me: 3:30 J: Why?
"When will we go to Disneyland?"
J: What day is it? Me: Monday J: Why?
(when saying a prayer) "Thank you for this days."
"Am I a big kid?"

Addy:

"Nammies" (jammies)
"Skake" (fruit stick)
"Snock" (snack, usually meaning fruit snacks)
"Nominoes" (dominoes)
"Tock-tock" (Tic-Tac)
"Bunnies" (bunny crackers)
"Oh no!"
"Color!" (meaning to draw)
"Where's Addy?"
"no, no, no, No, NO, NOOOOO!"
"nigh-nigh" (Night-night, meaning either nap, bed or blanket)
"No want go nigh-nigh!" (I don't want to nigh-night)
"Where's Jared Camryn?"

Lost in Translation

2011-10-02T14:06:00.000-07:00

Last weekend Dave and I went to Albuquerque, New Mexico for his Grandfather's funeral. While it was sad to be mourning his grandpa's passing, it was not unexpected --since his health had been declining for some time. The happy part of funerals is that they are one of the few occasions where everybody comes. All of Dave's siblings were there and all but one of his cousins (who is currently serving a mission).

One of my favorite experiences was in the evening after the funeral. We went out to dinner with Dave's immediate family for New Mexican food. I think the waitress or the cooks forgot about us because we ended up waiting for about 45 minutes before we got our food. Once we finally got it, our patience was rewarded as we were treated to delicious sweet corn cakes, charro beans, fresh guacamole and some of the best fresh corn tortillas I have ever tasted, all finished off with deep-fried sopapillas.

As we sat forever waiting for our food, we kept downing chips with spicy salsa and ever-increasing amounts of water, in somewhat futile attempts to limit the heat build-up in our mouths. After drinking at least 4 glasses of water and waiting for what seemed like forever, I needed a bathroom break. The waiter pointed me in the direction of "Los Banos."

I thanked him and rushed off to take care of my business, thinking, "Wow, there's something I actually remember from high school Spanish." I practically ran into a huge heavy wooden door. I glanced up at the sign above the door, which read "Senoras."

I rushed into the bathroom, barely noticing the shiny red and black tile decor and bold flower arrangements. After I finished, as I exited the stall to wash my hands, I saw two urinals, each with an air freshener stuck in the bottom. "That's odd," I thought, as I washed my hands, "that they would turn a men's bathroom into a women's bathroom and just stick an air freshener in the old urinals instead of taking them out." As I washed my hands, a man opened the door to the bathroom and started to walk in, only to apologize profusely and make an embarrassed exit. It was only then that I realized that maybe-- just maybe-- I wasn't in the women's bathroom after all and it was my turn for an embarrassed apology.

Sure enough, when I walked into the hall, the sign across the way said, "Senoritas,"

and the sign up above the door from which I was exiting said not "Senoras," but "Senores."

Oops. I guess the only plural form of Senor I covered in high school Spanish was Senors. Or maybe I don't remember that much from high school Spanish after all.

Anyone could mistake this for "Senoras," right?

Toward a Peaceful Coexistence with Pee-Pee

2011-09-26T18:32:00.000-07:00

If you read my facebook status updates, you will know that WAY too much of my life right now revolves around pee and poop. Let's just say that potty training with Jackson has been a process-- a loooong process. This has caused some worry for me regarding Jackson starting preschool. There are few entry requirements for his preschool (no, we don't go to one of those uppity preschools with an application process and letters of recommendation), but being completely potty trained is one of them. (Um, how exactly do you define "completely"?)

Jackson has been getting better and better at using the potty. He usually goes without help pretty much whenever he needs to. But he has a bad habit of waiting too long to go and then not quite making it. This results in a perpetual wet spot on the front of his pants and several changes of underwear and pants each day. He usually doesn't have "puddle on the floor" type of accidents, but I still have not been able to get him to successfully keep one pair of pants dry for a single day.

The bright side of things is that he has never had an accident at preschool. Maybe it is because he really likes preschool, but he has never peed his pants there-- although he has had a fairly big accident within minutes of coming home. I keep thinking that one of these days his "staying dry at preschool" skill will transfer over for general usage, but it hasn't happened yet.

We have tried a variety of different methods, consequences and bribes in our quest for the elusive dry pants. I tried to think of a "natural consequence" for wetting pants and the most logical was something to get clean again. Since Jackson really likes baths that didn't seem like a good option, so I went with cold showers. (This probably sounds harsh, but I was getting desperate--we've been doing this for months now). But even after days of consistently enforcing a cold shower after he wet himself, there was still no difference. So I resorted to bribery: jelly beans for staying dry between trips to the potty. He liked the jelly beans, but it still didn't increase the frequency of dryness. (Did I mention that even when he makes it to the potty he doesn't have the best of aim, so we perpetually have toilets, floors and bath rugs that are generously sprinkled with pee-pee? I'm beginning to wonder if the makers of Clorox wipes have him on their payroll....) So I finally decided that I just needed to give him time for his body to learn and in the meanwhile to work toward a peaceful coexistence with pee-pee.

(This next paragraph contains graphic descriptions that may not be appropriate for those who are not parents or have not had to potty-train....)
This morning I woke up in a less-than-great mood. I consciously chose to have a slow morning and went upstairs to get dressed about 10 minutes before Addy had to be at playgroup. I went in to my bathroom and something didn't smell right. There was a discarded pull-up and a big pile of runny poop in front of my toilet and splattered on the walls. I scrambled to clean it up, muttering thanks for the invention of paper towels and Clorox wipes, and then got dressed and went to get Jackson's clothes from his room to get him dressed. There was another discarded pull-up on his floor, along with several poop smears on the carpet. More Clorox wipes and 10 minutes later, the mess was cleaned and Jackson was dressed. But by this time Addy had pooped and needed a diaper change, but at least she'd had the courtesy to keep it in her diaper. We were 40 minutes late for playgroup and I was 15 minutes late for my appointment that was during playgroup.

After a streak of whatever plans I tried to make not working out (Childwatch at the YMCA was full, tried to read a book but kept getting interrupted), we settled into the afternoon while Addy was down for her nap. But, before long, I heard Camryn yelling, "Mom! Jackson either barfed or pooped on the floor!" Sure enough, Jackson had another bout of diarrhea and not quite making it to the potty in time. This time there was runny poop in a pile in front of the toilet, squished into the bath rug, splattered on the side of the tub and a big puddle of pee-pee to top it all off (like a cherry on top). After more paper towels, Clorox wipes and scrubbing the rug out in the toilet, I admitted defeat and succumbed to feelings of defeat and futility and an afternoon of simply existing-- and trying to forget about the existence of poop.

This is AFTER I cleaned off everything I could....

But, having shirked my responsibilities to write this blog post, Addy has now emerged from the playroom with green marker covering her arms, hands and chin. I think that's my cue to go....

Rant Invasion

2011-09-12T18:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, I need a good rant. Today has been a downer day. There hasn't been anything terrible, it's just one of those days where you wake up feeling "off" and things never quite get into place. Sundays tend to be hard days for me (the day of rest, right?) and yesterday was no exception. Maybe I'm still trying to recover.

I didn't have to teach Sunbeams at church because we had Stake Conference, but I replaced teaching wiggly 4-year-olds with playing a Mack Wilberg arrangement on the organ for a choir number. For those of you who aren't familiar with Mack Wilberg, he is the director of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and a famous choral arranger. A good chunk of his work is originally for orchestral accompaniment (which doesn't cut down easily to only two hands)-- and if it's not, the keyboard part is really hard because he enjoys inflicting pain on accompanists. :) Which would be fine, except: A) I have enough pain inflicted on me already by potty training right now, 2) Organ requires more brain-power for me than piano (the whole playing an instrument with your feet thing...), and, Third, I have two tiny helpers who love to push "transpose" buttons and add an unwritten pedal part while I practice organ. Yay.

Grumbling aside, the number went fine and it was even a teensy bit fun to get a chance to blare loud organ music in the middle of a church meeting. So after I finished playing, I sat down with the fam and prepared to *enjoy* the rest of a two-hour church meeting sitting on the 4th row with four kids (something akin to *enjoying* a triple marathon with no water in the summer in Arizona). Within five minutes of this, the nice lady sitting in front of us (with her teenager-- so she must have some acquaintance with kids in her distant past...) turns around to Jackson (aged 3) and says to him, "Can you please be quiet so I can hear?" Um, okay? For starters, Jackson was being quiet and good- at least for him. He was not being completely silent, but he was being fairly quiet for a three-year-old. And maybe she could have addressed me instead of my partially verbal toddler?

The rest of the meeting was peppered with dirty looks from the lady sitting in front of us, even though we took the two younger kids out whenever they were being truly noisy. I suppose in certain circumstances or situations this would be understandable, but for goodness sake, we were not in a concert, we were in a Mormon church meeting! We are a church where big families are common and it is customary --and expected-- for you to bring your kids with you to the service.

Anyway, I was stressed out from having played the organ and not in any mood to tender indignant looks from the lady in front of me. I really wanted to just go home. It's hard enough to get a family of four dressed in Sunday clothes and to church in the morning. I didn't feel the need to be made to feel completely unwelcome (even though I was playing a difficult organ piece as a free service) because I accidentally forgot to gag my children before I came. I (barely) managed to make it through the rest of the meeting. Yes, I know. I had a very uplifting meeting. I couldn't focus on the talks. Between taking Jackson out to the potty and trying to silence any happy peep out of him and Addy (who is the world's loudest happy baby), I was a bit preoccupied. Every time one of my kids made a sound I winced and waited for the dirty look.

As we got up to leave at the end, the lady sitting behind me tapped me on the shoulder and said, "I just had a feeling that I needed to tell you that it really does get better. I had five kids myself and I know how hard it can be. You have a beautiful family and your kids were just fine." I (who do not cry) almost burst into tears. After spending the whole meeting thinking, "Why are we even here? We are just bothering other people. I'm not getting anything out of it, the kids aren't getting anything out of it. What's the point? We should just go home.", it was nice to know that there are people out there capable of having some empathy. It's not like I don't know that my kids can be bothersome or annoying in a meeting (or on an airplane or whatever other public place we happen to be in). But for goodness sake, they are children. They really are trying and so am I, so please try to have some compassion and patience.

As for today's trials.... Jackson peeing his pants. And pooping his underwear (after weeks of no poop accidents). Not making it to the YMCA to exercise. Feeling fat. Jared absolutely going ballistic because I couldn't understand that he was TOTALLY JUSTIFIED and didn't make Jackson upset ("But mom... it wasn't my fault that our friend didn't bring another ball for our game on the bouncer and that Jackson only likes games where everyone has a ball...") and so forth. Round up the usual suspects....

Ten Years Ago Last Week: A Jared Album

2011-09-07T15:48:00.000-07:00

I was planning to do this post for a while but -- in typical form-- am getting around to posting it a week late. Sigh, mommy-hood brings out the promptness in all of us.

Last Wednesday marked the 10-year anniversary of when I became a mother. Yes, my oldest child turned 10. Here is a photo tribute to my oldest child, Jared. Jared, I love you and I am proud to be your mother!

Gotta love the cinder block walls in married student housing!

You Can't Hide... Or Can You?

2011-08-22T12:27:00.000-07:00

We just got back from being out of town for almost a month, going on three different "trips." Obviously, I have a lot to write about, but I just wanted to write about two things before I forgot.

It's always funny to me how small children try to hide things (usually unsuccessfully) from their parents. (Kind of like when I ask Jackson if he is wet and he insists he'd not but there is a huge wet spot at the front of his pants.) This morning Jackson was throwing a tantrum and got up from where I put him on time out, so I took him up to his bed. He didn't WANT to stay on his bed and was very upset at me. I went out of his room to look for something and when I came back, Jackson was "gone." He had hidden by sitting next to the armchair in his room and putting a blanket over his head. He held very still, certain that if I didn't move, I wouldn't notice the huge Jackson-sized bulge under the blanket next to his chair.

The other funny example of this was when we went camping with my parents. We were setting up the camp kitchen (my mom is a SERIOUS camp cook-- don't mess with her pop-up tables, camp cookers and multiple organized holders of cooking gadgets). We had just set up a pop-up table with a rack for hanging stuff on top and gotten everything on it organized when Addy pushed on it a little bit too hard and the whole thing fell over. After one huge-eyed look of panic, Addy immediately lay on the ground and pretended to be asleep. I guess maybe she would thought she was just taking a nap in the middle of the dirt and some nearby squirrel had pushed the table over. :)

About Last Thursday (or It Could Always Be Worse)

2011-07-23T15:18:00.000-07:00

In the intervening week-and-a-little-bit since my last post I have been meaning to fill in with a post about the rest of my day. Thanks to a google search and some tinkering I was able to re-attach the vacuum belt and clean up the cracker mess.

After my adventures in vacuum repairing, I piled the kids in the car to run some errands and then took the car into the shop to get it checked. (It had been making a groaning, screeching sort of sound when I braked and sometimes a bit of a thunk-thunk-thunk throbbing noise. Probably not good signs....) Sure enough, our tires needed to be replaced (which I already knew-- what I didn't know is that they were almost worn down to the core) and our brakes needed new rotors. Dave was out of town in California which seriously limited my alternate transportation options. The good news was that they said they could for sure do all of the work that day by the time they closed. The bad news is that I would be stuck with three kids without a car for three hours.

I decided this would make picking up Jared and his friend who was going to come over to play after scout camp a bit difficult. So I got on my phone and canceled the play date and got someone else to get Jared after camp. Now I was only left with three kids and two or three hours to burn. I loaded the younger kids in the stroller and headed for the park which-- thankfully-- was within walking distance of the shop. I found myself grateful for the dismal cloudy day that was not too warm and didn't require sunblock.

We had a lovely time playing until Jackson needed to go potty and I realized there were no bathroom facilities at this park. After quickly scouting my lack of options, I found a way to resolve the issue which may or may not have involved having Jackson pee on a tree. We went back to our lovely afternoon of playing in the park. Jackson and Addy rode in the swings and threw tanbark at each other while Camryn happily played with them. All was well... until Jackson had to go to the potty again. Except this time he had to go poop. I loaded the double stroller with the urgency of a captain loading lifeboats and we charged off at hyper-speed to the nearest store with a restroom. We made it into the Target parking lot when Jackson suddenly jumped out of his stroller seat and announced, "Mom! I need new pants!" So close and yet so far.... Did I mention Addy had a poopy diaper too?

We headed to the family bathroom at Target where I surveyed the damage. Luckily I had a pull-up, diaper and wipes in the basket of the stroller (I had accidentally left the diaper bag in the car). I'll spare you the details of that delightful 15 minutes spent in the removal of poop from Jackson's posterior (and legs, and shoes-- getting off soiled underwear isn't a tidy proposition). I admit I just threw the underwear in the garbage and didn't even feel guilty. After I got Addy's diaper changed and I had my fill of poop to last me for the next century, we grabbed some snacks and a couple of slurpees and headed off in the stroller again. (I had actually been to Target enough in the past few days that I didn't have anything left to buy. Now THAT is scary.)

We headed off on a walk to the local toy store to burn some more time. I didn't realize we had so many things within walking distance of the car shop. I also realized that while I had driven that street hundreds of times in the past 5 years, I had never once walked down it. We spent a good hour at the toy store and survived with only one destroyed item in the process (maybe it was just Addy's way of getting me to buy her a book). We finished with yet another round of snacks and were heading back to the park when I had another "I need to use the potty"-- this time from Camryn. So we headed back to the toy store, used the potty and began to head out again when I finally got the call that the work on the car was done.

Being car-less wasn't as awful as I had feared. If you took out the pooping-in-the-underwear incident, it was almost downright enjoyable. Nevertheless, it was nice to have my stylin' ride back.

So if you are wondering why I haven't been blogging much this summer, this is my long and circuitous answer.

Since My Last Post

2011-07-14T11:58:00.000-07:00

Since I clicked "Publish Post" on my last blog entry, the following has happened:

Jackson and Addy dumped an entire box of bunny crackers on the living room carpet.
I made attempts to have Jackson and Camryn help clean it up
Jackson threw a tantrum and got sent to his room
Camryn and I finished cleaning up the crackers
I got out the vacuum to get the rest of the crumbs
Jackson yells from upstairs that he needs to go potty.
The vacuum isn't sucking anything up. The rotor brush isn't moving.
I take the vacuum apart and try to figure it out
Jackson yells from upstairs, "I need new pants! I'm all wet!"
It looks like there is a belt that is supposed to attach the rotor brush to the motor and it isn't connected. How do I fix this? Oh wait, no problem. I learned that in Motherhood 101 (yes, that is sarcasm). At least I have google.

Camp Crazy

2011-07-14T10:23:00.000-07:00

This week has been like riding down the river of craziness. Jared and Camryn have had camp this week-- which should make life easier, right? Right? Right????? What it means is 7:15 drop off and 4:15 pickup for one child with 9 am drop off and 12 pm pick up (for only three days) for the other (half of them being while my husband is out of town so I don't have another parent to help).

Yesterday morning set some kind of record (exactly which one I'm still figuring out...). I drove to the church three times before 9:00 am: once to drop Jared off, another time in an unsuccessful bid to get him his lunch (which he forgot) and one last time to drop off Camryn. Both younger kids woke up drenched with wet beds. In the midst of all this, Camryn asked me (at about 8:15) if she could make breadsticks if she cleaned up the mess. It was an easy out to get one child off my back, so I said okay. But both of us forgot that she had her last day of Activity Days camp at 9:00, so her project was stopped mid-stream and the "I'll clean up the mess part" didn't exactly happen how it was supposed to. The kitchen was left looking like this:

Jackson continues his streak of remarkable talent in mess-making. His prodigious talents (just for this week) include spraying a newly-cleaned toilet and floor with pee in 30 second or less, unintentionally partially thawing the outside freezer by leaving the freezer door open, and spilling birdseed on the floor followed by accidentally watering the hardwood through the screen door (while attempting watering the plants on the deck) within 60 seconds of each other.

Dave had a one-day business trip on Monday, meaning he left at 4:00 am and got home at 9 pm. He had a meeting on Tuesday night so he didn't get home until 9:00 pm again. Wednesday morning he was off at 4 am again for a two-day business trip. We have had a diet of Taco Bell interspersed with Papa Murphy's pizza and fruit roll-ups. Despite a conscious attempt to use childwatch at the YMCA, hiring a babysitter, and even overt retail therapy at Target, I feel like I'm flying down river rapids on a log without a paddle. Perpetual peepee accidents, cold cereal and milk dumped on the floor, markers on the wall, bananas smooshed through hair, scattered toys, no matching kids shoes to be found (despite buying 4 new pairs on Tuesday), spilled birdseed, "Mom, can I use a pillowcase for a sewing project?," poop out the diaper and up the back of Addy's shirt, earrings dumped out of my jewelry drawer and scattered all over the floor, Jackson jumping from the slide to the lovesac whilst buck naked on his lower half, "Can I use Alka-seltzer to make an explosion with an old film canister?"... this is my life at present. I find myself turning to my computer keyboard for escape-- like some kind of lifeline to the outside world or grown-up version of a pacifier.

On Tuesday we had a pizza and movie night. The kids settled in to watch "The Princess and the Frog" while I succumbed to the blessed oblivion of zoning out on the internet, planning summer travel or wasting time on Facebook-- it really didn't matter as long as it didn't involve screaming children. Suddenly Jared looked up and pointed out, "Mom, you're not watching the movie!" I shrank in my chair and made some half-hearted attempts to look at the screen. "Um, sure I am. It's about a frog, right?" "No, mom. You're not watching it at all. Close your computer!" After some hemming and hawing and a few attempts to send one last email or smuggle some glances at a travel guide, Jared got visibly upset with me, so I turned off the computer, put my books away and watched the movie. It was actually really nice. Hard to do, but nice.

So for now I'm just trying to survive getting sucked into the vortex of summer.... the endless swirl of activities, messes, children and chaos. And tell myself that I will survive all of this fun. Really.

My Not-A-Post

2011-07-09T13:30:00.000-07:00

I haven't written a post in almost a month. I haven't really read any other blogs in that same time period. I apologize to my dear blog readers (assuming I have any left...). I have lots to say but am having a hard time translating that into blog posts. The daily realities of life with four kids are combining with the perpetual debate of how much of my daily grind I want to write for the whole world (meaning my mom and five of my friends :] ) to create a lack of creativity. The solution is to stop analyzing and just write.

I'm sitting on a beautiful Saturday morning, er, afternoon at my computer with a list of useful productive things I could do as Addy plays in the bathtub (strike one against my parenting-- even if I can hear her making happy noises so I know any damage being done is to the bathroom and not her) as a result of her earlier mega-poop. Jackson is back inside after I heard him screeching at other kids in the front yard (mother of the year award for me, yes). Yes, I could finish weeding the yard, folding the 6 baskets of clean laundry in my upstairs hallway, make lunch for my kids, plan our summer trip or make a dish to take to the potluck tonight. I could spend time pondering a momentous decision, entertaining myself or doing something useful. I could even write a real blog post. But instead, I'm sitting here writing not much of anything-- which I suppose is a slight upgrade from wasting time on facebook.

Luckily, Dave just finished working so now I can end this lame post. But now the ice is broken and I can start writing again. Even if it's lame. :)

Camryn's Crayon Cookies

2011-06-21T22:15:00.000-07:00

Today Camryn asked me if she could make cookies. I had someone over and was getting tired of being interrupted every two minutes so I told her she could. She got out the "Great American Cookie" cookbook (the one full of pictures) and decided on "Crayon Cookies." Aside from asking me how many cubes of butter it took to make a cup and how to fill a pastry bag with chocolate, she did the entire process by herself-- Kitchenaid mixer and all. She added the ingredients, mixed the dough, divided it into 8 different bowls (so she could make it 8 different colors like the recipe said), rolled it out and shaped it like crayons, melted chocolate (to use to draw the "wrappers") and decorated them. At one point she asked me to do the chocolate decorating for her, but we quickly found that she was just as good or better at it than I was.

Here is a picture of her fantastic work: (Blurry pictures courtesy of my cell-phone camera... the cord to charge my regular camera is still missing).

Camryn's Awesome Crayon Cookies

In the midst of all her fabulous initiative and creativity, she neglected to attend to the clean-up part of the project. Our kitchen looks like it was hit by a major hurricane. I guess on tomorrow's docket is "How to clean up from making cookies." Still, not too bad for an eight-year-old.

The World Revolves Around... the Potty

2011-06-08T17:14:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in a while. I'm recovering really well from my deviated septum surgery, despite a really scary drug interaction the Friday night after the surgery. For all of you who want to know but don't have the nerve to ask, no, I did not get a nose job along with my septoplasty. I have the same old pointy schnoz that I've always had. Darn. (Besides, if I was going to undergo the knife, I can think of some body parts that would get much higher priority than my nose. If I wasn't morally opposed to cosmetic surgery.) But I digress. My mom just left on Monday after being here for three weeks. She was able to help with the surgery, help me organize our junk room into a play room and generally make my life awesomer. It was fabulous. I'm having serious withdrawal now that I'm having to be a responsible adult again. :(

We (meaning my mom) started potty-training Jackson while she was here. He is plenty old enough at 3 1/2 , but I'm not nearly old enough. Or maybe I'm too old. At any rate, I don't do poop and this is killing me. He's got the pee-pee thing down pretty well, but this sitting-on-the-potty-for-an-hour-and-then-pooping-in-your-underwear thing is getting old. Really, really old. Maybe those in the 7th circle of hell are really just condemned to an eternity of perpetual potty-training. (Deep breath.) I can survive this. Really. I can.

Post-Surgery Update

2011-05-23T19:52:00.000-07:00

Rockin' the hospital gown. Why hasn't this taken off as a fashion staple? I think the tent look suits me....

I'm back home after my surgery. (Which was actually septoplasty with a turbinate cautery, not a septoplasty with a turbinectomy as I had previously thought. In case you were wondering-- I thought you were). I woke up bright and early this morning to head to the hospital. Last night my mom told one of her friends about my upcoming septoplasty. Her friend warned her that she'd had that same surgery and the recovery was awful-- they pack your nose with gauze and your head feels awful for days on end. So on that happy note, I headed off this morning with some pretty low expectations for my day.

Hangin' with the ice pack post-surgery. It kind of looks like a polar bear mask with a red nose.

I got prepped for the surgery and they gave me some Versed to help me relax. Dave asked me if I felt anything and I told him I didn't and then (apparently...I don't remember anything) clonked out about 30 seconds later. I woke up what seemed like about 15 minutes later in the post-op recovery room with no memory of being in the operating room whatsoever. I asked the nurses about 5 times whether the operation was really over already. I was a bit woozy after the operation, but overall I really didn't feel half bad at all. It helped that they didn't pack my nose. (The doctor said they try to avoid it when they can because people-- and I quote-- hate it with a purple passion.) Instead, I have a moustache-style device to hold a gauze pad under my nose. It looks awkward, but I'll take it over having my nose packed full of gauze.

Sportin' my moustache-style gauze-holder. I've never had a bandaid that I put on around my ears before....

So after a calm, relaxing day-- including a medically-induced nap-- I'm back at home watching movies and dinking on my computer. I may not be feeling so great when the local anesthetic they used on my nose wears off, but for now at least I'm liking my excuse to sit on the couch and be a bit lazy. Kind of like my experience having my wisdom teeth out, it's kinda nice every once in a while to have something that forces you to stop everything and take a break. Even if that break involved hospital food. (Honestly, it wasn't so very bad....)

Pickin' at my deluxe hospital meal. Actually the fruit plate was pretty awesome.

My First-Ever Turbinectomy!

2011-05-22T23:28:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my first-ever surgery. I am having a septoplasty and turbinectomy-- which sounds like I'm having a septic tank fixed and a turban removed but actually means that I am having a deviated septum in my nose corrected and an enlarged lower turbinate reduced-- with the end result hopefully being that I will be able to breathe normally for the first time in years. I was supposed to have this surgery 11 years ago but I procrastinated it because I didn't want to take time off work and I was afraid of going under general anesthesia. So hooray for ending the procrastination and finally getting around to doing it. I haven't been able to breathe clearly through my nose for years, so I am excited to get this over with. I think.

It isn't a major surgery (although I've heard that the only minor surgery is one that happens to someone else) but I'm still a bit nervous. The general anesthesia thing still doesn't excite me-- although it is much more exciting than the alternative. I tend to underplay things in my mind so I'm sure tomorrow I will be hating life and feeling crappy, but hopefully in a week or two I will have be feeling more normal AND be able to breathe through my nose for a change. Here's hoping.

The Father Son Campout

2011-05-14T10:21:00.000-07:00

Last night Dave took Jared and Jackson camping at the beach for a church Father/Son Campout. I told Jared to pack a change of clothes into a bag and he did-- along with a package of hot dogs and a half-open bag of giant marshmallows. (I wish I had a picture of the stuff in his bag amid the pajamas and socks...)

Today they are playing on the beach before coming home. These photos are brought to you courtesy of emails from Dave's Blackberry. (Isn't technology amazing?) I love how Jared is dressed in his swimsuit on the gray, freezing Oregon beach. At least he's prepared for the best.... :)

A Mommy-Son Date

2011-05-10T21:51:00.000-07:00

A while back Dave got called out of town unexpectedly. I already had a babysitter set up for our Friday night date and wasn't looking forward to the prospect of going out by myself. I decided to see if Jared wanted to go out for a "Mommy/Son" date. He wasn't sure if he liked this idea. He was initially just hoping to just get a Slurpee as bribery for (back from when we went tubing during Spring Break) taking Jackson in his tube while I dealt with a meltdown from another child. (I'm seeing a pattern here of using Slurpees for snow-related bribery.)

I gave him his choice and he finally decided to go with the "Night Out with Mom" option. He decided on dinner at California Pizza Kitchen, but first we grabbed two cupcakes to save for dessert at the "Sweetest Thing" cupcake stand before they closed. Jared got his favorite, Pepperoni Pizza, while I got a Pear/Gorgonzola concoction that had salad greens on the top.

Jared looking appropriately "gourmet."

Pear and gorgonzola pizza.

After dinner, we got a chocolate to munch on at Leonidas and then strolled around the shopping center. Jared even humored me enough to let me go in Gymboree and buy a couple of things for the younger kids. We finished off the evening by browsing at Borders for a while, finally selecting a Sudoku book for Jared and a crossword puzzle book for me. Jared was super-excited to find a huge book of sudoku puzzles for only five dollars. We ate our cupcakes in the car before heading home.

Jared decided that he actually liked this concept of a night out with mom and bragged to Camryn the next day about how fun it was and how many cool things we got to do. He even suggested that Dave and I alter our Friday night date schedule to only every other week-- so we could take turns on the off weeks taking him or Camryn out for dinner instead. I told him that was a really good idea but Dad and I still needed our time together. We settled on an alternate arrangement of planning to do occasional parent/child dates.

I thought spending some one on one time would be a "good idea," but I was surprised at what good company Jared was and how much fun we had. It's really fun to observe as your kids get older and become people with opinions and interests and things to say. Maybe it's just that I'm grateful that I haven't gotten to the stage where my children are embarrassed to be seen in public with me, but I really loved having the chance to spend an evening with Jared.

Bring on the Power Tools!

2011-05-10T21:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, power tools may be a bit of an exaggeration. But I need to brag about my latest home improvement project -- and it did involve the use a battery-powered drill in its completion. That counts, right?

So I typically have kept all of my necklaces in the jewelry drawer of my dresser. This drives me crazy because they often get tangled, it's difficult to see/remember what's in there, and so on and so forth. So I decided I needed a new method of jewelry storage that kept my necklaces both neat and visible. Enter Target and an battery-powered drill....

After checking out several necklace tree options and rejecting them because they didn't hold enough necklaces (or were just plain ugly), I settled on the idea of creating a place to hang necklaces on my wall using several dark-wood finished key rails from Target. I bought four of them at $3.99 each.

I waited until Addy was down for a nap. Then, getting a step stool and engaging the ready help of my handy-dandy four-year-old, I set to work.

I eyeballed where I wanted the rails to go on the wall (I even brought out the level as a nod to my engineer husband, but did not go so far as measuring out exactly where it would be centered on the wall. Sorry, Dave.), marked out where I needed the holes with a pencil and then (gulp) drilled pilot holes into the wall, followed by screws holding the rails in place.

I repeated this process four times and got the following result: neat, tidy, visible and attractive necklace storage.

As you can see, the dark wood even matches the finish on the mirror and dresser that are next to it.

Jackson proudly displaying the result of "our" effort. All for a grand total of $16.96 and one afternoon spent on a step stool with a four-year-old.

Poetry for Mother's Day

2011-05-10T15:00:00.000-07:00

Jared's Mother's Day poem: (I think he has me pegged...)

Karen
Fun, Loving, Inspiring
Mother of Jared, Camryn, Jackson, Addy
Lover of relaxation and choral music
Who feels proud every time I make a new recipe
Who needs everything to be clean and organized
Who gives love and activity
Who fears a screaming Jackson
Who would like to see her children playing nicely once together
Mom

Sweetest Thing Cupcakes

2011-05-09T10:23:00.000-07:00

We had spring break the last week of March. Which means that the best time to write about it would be... the second week of May! We stayed home and tried to do some short day trips or outings. One of our outings was to Sweetest Thing Cupcakes in Newberg.

"Sweetest Thing" is located in a beautiful restored Craftsman house in Oregon Wine Country (which locale would be much more exciting if I drank wine, but I don't). Luckily, however, I do eat cupcakes, of which they have many great varieties. There are several flavors of cupcakes that are available daily, but my favorites are the daily specials. They have fun flavors such as Fluffernutter (Peanut butter cake filled with peanut butter cream topped with toasted marshmallow frosting) or The Cowboy (chocolate cake filled with peanut butter topped with chocolate ganache). They also have really great scones or muffins and raspberry thumbprint cookies (a personal weakness). They even have a gluten-free menu for those with dietary restrictions.

On this trip, for the first time they had "Cake Pops," so we had to try those. They are balls made of cake crumbs and frosting that are dipped in chocolate-- and put on a stick for ease of eating. The kids really liked these and while they were really cute and yummy, for my money, I'd rather just get a cupcake or cookie.

If you have a cupcake craving but don't want to go all the way to Newberg, they have a stand in Bridgeport Village across from the movie theaters. The cupcakes taste just as good, even without the cute Tiffany-colored area to eat in.

The dining area at the Newberg location.

I am really picky about cake or cupcakes. Cake is one of those things that is just not worth the calories for me unless it is REALLY good. But Sweetest Thing is one of those places that's worth it.

Our First Family Ski Trip

2011-05-09T09:54:00.000-07:00

While I am on a belated blogging kick, I figured I would write about our first family ski trip of this season. On March 28th we took Jared and Camryn to Mt. Hood Meadows. And to fully celebrate the familial nature of this trip, I didn't take a single picture of the kids. Oops.

Maybe a better description of this ski trip would be, "We tried taking Jared and Camryn skiing in Utah last year and figured we could teach them to ski ourselves just fine. After spending the better part of an evening skiing down the hill with a 6-year-old between my knees I decided that ski school was a fantastic investment." And so Jared and Camryn had an all-day ski lesson. I think it was really helpful for them to have instruction from someone who wasn't "just" mom or dad (Never mind the fact that their dad is a fantastic skiier-- it's still carries more weight coming from someone else.) We skied with them for an hour at the end of the day and they eagerly showed off their newly acquired turning skill. But at that point I apparently had forgotten about my camera, so you will have to take my word for it that Jared and Camryn were actually on that trip.

It was a gorgeous day with blue sky and a fantastic view of Mt. Hood. We had great snow and had a great time.

At the top of my black diamond for the day. Did I mention I've skied a black diamond?

Look at that view! Gorgeous!

Belated Blogging: North Clackamas Aquatic Park

2011-05-09T09:42:00.000-07:00

Back in March we took the kids on a Saturday trip to the North Clackamas Aquatic Park. Nothing like indoor heated pools, waterslides and a wave pool to break up the Oregon winter blues.


Jared in the wave pool

We had an altogether fabulous time-- except that we had to keep a really close eye on Jackson to make sure that he didn't go up the steps to the big water slides. Poor Jack-Jack couldn't figure out why he couldn't go on the big water slides and had to content himself with the little kiddie seal slide.

On the way there, the Jared and Camryn saw a carnival in a parking lot, so they wheedled their dad into braving the rain and taking them on "The Zipper."

We finished the evening with a dinner at that fabled dining destination (at least for kids)... Sweet Tomatoes. Nothing like a buffet with a soft-serve ice cream dispenser to make a kid's day.

Last Day of Skiing

2011-05-09T08:48:00.000-07:00

On the last Saturday of April, Dave and I took the two older kids for one last ski trip. Even though that weekend we were in the midst of trying to clean out the junk room (and turn it into a room for something other than junk), I had bought a Groupon for skiing at Mt. Hood Skibowl and it was the last day we could use it before it expired. So we left our unsorted junk piles and skied.

It was the second time we took them skiing this season. They had an all-day lesson the first time and a shorter lesson this time, so by the end of the day they could ski most of the lower bowl. We could actually ski together as a group and have a lot of fun. This was of course a long way from where we started that day.

Jared bombing down the mountain.

Our first run of the day started with some barely downhill could-be-cross-country-skiing paths. As soon as we got to the part of the mountain that was actually downhill, Camryn refused to ski and launched into a tantrum and tears and “Why can’t we ski at the place we skied last time instead?” Apparently the other resort's bunny hill was more bunny and less racer rabbit. I skied with Jared while Dave dealt with the crying and protestations that it was too hard and why couldn't she just get back on the lift and take it back down the mountain. When Jared and I had gotten to the bottom of the mountain, taken the lift back up and caught up to them on our second time down, I told Dave to trade places with me. I spent another 20 minutes trying to convince her that she could get down the mountain in one piece if she would just try and do what I showed her. I'd seen her ski before and she was perfectly capable of doing this hill. She was just scared and looking all the way down the mountain instead of looking to the next turn. Finally after using every technique/imagery/motivational trick in my book I just told her she could have a Slurpee if she did three turns without crying or falling. Apparently sugar is a much more effective short-term motivator than either reminders of past success or promises of future skiing glory. Bribery did its work and we made it to the bottom of the mountain fairly quickly thereafter.

I am sure there is some deep life lesson to be drawn from this... about all the times I figuratively sit on the hill screaming, "I can't go down! It's too hard! I like the other easier hill better!" while meanwhile God is saying, "Just do a turn or two and get started. You'll be fine. I know you can do it." I don't know if God stoops to Slurpee bribery (although if you made it Oregon Ice Works sorbet, I'd be WAY more tempted) but maybe he does stand next to us on the hill, offering some encouragement, waiting for us to finish our tantrums and just start doing turns again.

Jared and Camryn during their ski lesson.

During the middle of the day, Jared and Camryn had a one-hour ski lesson. It was supposed to be a two-hour group lesson, but it was just the two of them, so the instructor made it a one-hour semi-private lesson instead. While they got coaching and practice on making turns, Dave and I went to the top of the mountain to tackle a black diamond. Given my fear of heights, I think it is pretty amazing that I have gotten to the point where I can ski a black diamond-- and not just make it down alive, but actually stay in control the entire time. Now if only I can get to the point where I can relax and enjoy it (and not breathe a huge sigh of relief at the bottom that I'm still alive).... But hey, this is my blog so I can toot my own horn and say, "Hooray for me!" if I want to. (This hill looks WAAY steeper in real life. Especially from the top. Just sayin'.)

Me at the bottom of the black diamond.

It was a great day with surprisingly good snow--especially considering it was the end of April. By the end of the day even Camryn admitted that this resort was pretty fun and she would do it again-- a far cry from her earlier attempts to get me to promise that we would never come back to this ski resort. I don't know if I would go that far about my figurative "ski hills," but maybe just getting to the bottom, breathing a sigh of relief and saying, "Hey, I'm still alive!" is good enough too.

Camryn after deciding skiing wasn't so bad after all.

For Laughs

2011-05-07T22:15:00.000-07:00

I seem to blog in spurts. Either I write every single day for a week straight or I go for two weeks without posting at all. So here is a bit of random-ness.

Last weekend Dave and I took Jared and Camryn skiing. In the course of the day (during tears/tantrum about not being able to get down the mountain) I promised Camryn a slurpee if she would do three turns without falling. My bribery worked so I got sucked into getting her one of the world's junkiest junk foods on the way home. (Wouldn't it be more efficient to just hook up an IV with sugar in it?) On our way into 7-11 we saw a slurpee poster advertising the new movie, "Thor."

I don't know what it was about the poster or if maybe I was just loopy from skiing too much, but the poster made me laugh out loud. Every time I looked up at it while we were there I started giggling again. I was just struck by the silly ridiculous poses of the people on the poster. The blond guy (presumably Thor?) holding some kind of a meat mallet with a look that says, "I know this pose is ridiculous, but you know my hair looks better than yours."

But the best was the green man. I don't know what character he was supposed to be, but he just had the best look on his face:

His whole face seems to say, "Um, I'm wearing a green space suit and a hat with big horns. Is this why I went to drama school? I'm trying really hard to look serious, but whoa is this embarrassing-- and it's plastered up at every 7-11 in the nation. I hope my ex-girlfriend doesn't see this...."

Anyway, it's hard to know why certain things strike us as funny, but I still start laughing out loud just by looking at this picture. Thank you, green big-horned-hat man. :)

What's Cooking?

2011-04-15T12:20:00.000-07:00

I have always loved to cook. Cooking was a family tradition when I was growing up. We had a special love of cookie dough (as you can see).

Sunday cookie-making at its finest.

But experimenting out of the box was acceptable too. (I think these were Egg and Cheese Omelet Cups.)

So I guess rocking it in the kitchen has been a longstanding hobby/tradition for me. :) (Or at least rocking wild aprons....)

I don't remember if this awesome hat/apron combination was sewn by myself or one of my sisters....

I will try to ignore the fact that I just put plastic wrap on top of a pie and all of that delicious crispy homemade crust is steaming to a slow death.... I was only 11.

Recently Dave and I have taken up cooking together occasionally as a weekend hobby. Green Curry, Red Curry, Tuscan Tomato Bread Soup and Sizzled Citrus Shrimp have been on our recent menus.

Sizzled Lemon-Lime Shrimp with Cilantro

I don't make cookies nearly as often as we did growing up (in a marginally successful attempt to control my waistline), but I still love to cook and try new recipes and often make attempts to pass this love of good food and cooking on to my kids.

On Saturday a couple of weeks ago, Jared woke me up and asked me to come down for breakfast. He had made pancakes. He got out the griddle, opened the cookbook and made them completely himself with no adult supervision. Since then, he has repeated this feat twice (once on a school day!).

He informed me (on the school day that he made pancakes) that there wasn't any syrup so they just had them with cinnamon sugar or whipped cream like crepes.

Now if only I can inspire my 9-year-old to start cooking dinner for me too....

Productivity (Addy and Jackson Style)

2011-04-14T09:07:00.000-07:00

One of the toughest things for me as a mom is to let go of "getting things done" and my obsession with productivity and just play with the kids or watch them play. A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to "get something done" and Jackson kept bugging me to go outside. As much as I wanted to finish, it was a beautiful, sunny day in Portland (in March) so I gave in and took him and Addy outside. It was such a great afternoon. There is nothing like the happiness a three-year-old can find in his scooter or the accomplishment an 18-month-old feels by putting along with her feet Fred-Flinstone style on her trike.

Just Wanted to Share

2011-04-12T10:53:00.000-07:00

It's always handy when someone writes your blog post for you and saves you the effort. I really resonated with this post, having had my share of crying in the closet/car/bathroom and wishing for a nanny godmother. "Life [and motherhood] is awesome and crappy at the same time." And I think it's okay to acknowledge that being a mom is awesome-- and really stinks.

My Birthday Wish: To Be an Innocent Bystander for a Day

Fun With Dental Floss

2011-04-08T22:53:00.000-07:00

Jackson found a package of dental floss today and went to work. Who knew that dental floss could be so fun, even if you aren't an obsessive fan of oral hygiene?

How can this much string fit in such a tiny package?


"Wait a minute, I'm stuck!"

"It's minty!!"

All of this fun for only a couple dollars worth of floss....

Conference Weekend

2011-04-07T17:10:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was General Conference. While it is always nice to have a break from teaching Sunbeams, getting the kids ready for church, getting Jackson and Addy to stay quiet during Sacrament Meeting and just generally being gone for 3 hours at church on Sunday, the weekend was a mix for us. I used to look forward to Conference weekend. What's not to like? Watch church in your PJ's on the couch while eating treats. When we lived in Utah sometimes we got to attend in person-- which was awesome. And then we had kids. I guess kids actually weren't responsible for the demise of my enjoyment of conference. I think it actually happened somewhere when I thought my kids were starting to get older and I started having expectations that they would act differently than wild goats.

Wouldn't this be enough to bribe you to be quiet?

We started out well-- complete with real homemade Cinnamon Rolls during the Saturday Morning. My slacker conference tradition is to make Cinnamon Sugar Bread with canned biscuits so this was a big step up for me-- thanks to my attempt at no-knead refrigerator Challah dough (which was super-easy by the way... next Brioche!). But despite my sugaring up of the kids and printing out cute Conference Packets for them, it took us almost four hours to watch that first two-hour session of conference. Even though we started watching it live, between pushing pause to break up wrestling matches, rewinding to hear what that word was that was drowned out by screaming and pausing to roll out the rolls and put them in the oven, it turned into quite a marathon.

Wild goats in action.

We took a short break to eat lunch and then began the second session. Addy was down for her nap and Jackson was happily playing so I started to again entertain the unreasonable expectation that at least two of my children were capable of being in the same room as the broadcast without turning into raving hyenas. I made a valiant effort, but between Jared and Camryn teasing each other and wrestling, Jackson screeching at the top of his lungs and me feeling a sudden uncontrollable desire to bean someone, break something or scream, I thought it would be best for everyone if we adjourned conference and mom locked herself in her room to cry for a while. After a requisite period of solitude (I told the kids not to bug me unless there was blood or fire) I started getting notes under the door asking me when I was going to come out, so I piled the kids into the car to go to the park.

A really cute wild goat.

As soon as we got out of the car at the park it started to rain, so we piled everyone back into the car. Instead we drove to Michael's, where I stocked up on crafts for the kids to do during conference on Sunday. Who knew that $30 could buy me one session of relative peace and quiet?

Fun at Michael's

After a semi-harrowing stop at Baja Fresh for dinner to use a Groupon I had bought-- did I ever mention how much it bugs me when I spend $4 for a kids meal and a certain child (cough, cough, ahem, Jackson, cough, cough) drinks the juice and doesn't eat a single bite of anything else?-- we headed home. We survived Sunday conference quite well, completing our typical session-and-a-quarter before giving up again. We then turned to Animated Heroes from the Bible's "Joseph in Egypt" for our the religious educational value of the day and peace was restored.

Jared took this photo as a surprise for me.

How to Catch a Salamander

2011-04-06T16:26:00.000-07:00

(Note to toot my own horn: These pictures are all from TODAY. How ambitious is THAT!)

Last Friday the kids and I had a near-perfect afternoon. We were lucky enough to enjoy a couple-hour spurt of nice weather. In Oregon, when the sun comes out-- even for just a few hours-- everyone else comes out with it. People walk their dogs, kids go out and play, neighbors go for a jog. Jared and Camryn rode bikes while Jackson putted around on his scooter. When Addy woke up, I loaded her and Jackson into the double stroller and went for a walk around our neighborhood. We ran into a neighbor who was out planting flowers and got into a conversation. Eventually Jackson got tired of sitting in the stroller so got out and played with her kids. Pretty soon Addy followed suit. Before too long, Jared and Camryn came riding by on their bikes asking what was taking me so long. All of the kids ended up roaming the neighborhood, catching salamanders and playing in an open field, having the time of their lives while I had a relaxed afternoon chatting.

Ever since that afternoon when our neighbor Noah taught Jared and Camryn how to catch a salamander (You open up a control valve box in the grass and stick your fingers down by the control valve-- sounds great, huh?), these crawly amphibians have been the new stars of our household. We have a small box on our back deck to keep the catch of the day (until it escapes). Everyone loves "sah-manders" (as Jackson calls them) and every single day after school the kids hunt for them, go digging for worms to feed them, invite the neighbors over to see them and catch some of their own, etc., etc.

Meet "Sally"

The kids' outdoor play was interrupted by a hail storm, but this is Oregon. If you don't like the weather, just wait 15 minutes.

Camryn having fun in the hail storm.

"This is awesome!"

Jared explaining some important fact about hail.

"Dat's not rain! It's snowing!"

Eventually the hail storm passed and the sun came out again. Regardless or either, the kids are just having a great time hunting worms and salamanders. I think salamanders are my new best friends. They may even oust Curious George.

"A salamander is just like a hamster, only more wet." -Jared

Played Out: Why I Never Practice Piano Any More

2011-04-06T09:18:00.000-07:00

People sometimes ask me if I "keep up" with my piano and "Do I practice anymore?" The answer is yes and no. Yes, I still play the piano. Do I "keep up" with it? I have two degrees in Piano Performance and spent 6 consecutive years of my life practicing between 4-7 hours a day on the piano (depending on what time in my schooling). So the first answer is "no," there is no way to "keep up" with that unless you a) do it for a career, b) have no life, c) have no children, or d) all of the above.

These pictures are from a different incident, but accurately represent my difficulty with piano practice at this stage of life.

Being a piano major in a former life presents problems though. Everyone that finds this out exclaims, "Oh, you should play something for me!" And I should. Except that the major pieces I have memorized and under my fingers right now are "Jumbo Elephant" and "Jesus Wants Me For a Sunbeam." It's also troublesome because once you have learned how to really play and do a piece justice, it is very difficult to play in a way that is "half-baked" and doesn't really represent how the piece should or could be played (assuming that you devoted the time necessary to play it in such a manner).

Note the expression of relaxation and enjoyment on all-- well at least one-- of our faces.

I had a friend has been bugging me to audition for a local talent contest (yes, I got your email, Sarah) that even has cash prizes so I have been throwing around whether there is anything I could "pull up" for this. It then presents a dilemma: Do you try to scrounge up time to practice something and seize on an opportunity to perform again? Do you publicly play at a level that does not accurately represent your best? Or do you remember that you have children and 5 baskets of unfolded laundry upstairs and scrap the idea altogether?

Yesterday morning I had the brilliant thought that I should play the piano for a while for fun, as a form of "self-care" or "me" time. I waited until Addy and Jackson were sitting up eating breakfast and then I started to play a Mozart slow movement. Jackson immediately left his cereal to go soggy and took this perfect opportunity to climb on me and add a duet part. Recently I have been working with this er, rather, um, challenging child on being firm and sticking with boundaries, so I gently pulled him off my lap and told him that he needed to wait. He didn't like this ("But mahhhhhm, I want you!") but he was going to have to live with it. He climbed on me again and, yet again, I gently pulled him down and said he would have to wait.

The ideal way to practice....

I pulled out the Schumann-Liszt "Widmung" and started to play through it. Jackson climbed up on the back of me and then held on to my neck and swung from there, laughing at what great fun this was. Again, I stuck to my boundaries and calmly set him down to the side and told him that he needed to wait. Finally, seeing that half-measures were not working, Jackson took a giant plastic sand shovel that I bought the other day and used it to knock my music down off the music stand and knock the piano lid closed. (Exactly how he did this I am not sure....) At that point, all calmness and boundaries flew out the window. I stopped playing and bellowed, "NO JACKSON!!!! NO! NO! DON'T DO THAT!!! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!! No toys on the piano!!!!!" After about ten seconds of bellowing "NO" and scrambling to contain myself, I calmly took him to time out as he sobbed giant tears. At this point, after liberally berating myself for losing my temper, I tried to remind myself that I am not a perfect mom and anyone has their breaking point-- especially when a giant plastic sand shovel is applied to the music rack of your piano.

I think I see simultaneously why I don't practice the piano very much anymore and why the successful Venezualan concert pianist Teresa Carreno (who had six children) reportedly kept a loaded gun on the piano. Um, yeah. That might work. I guess that explains a lot.

"I'm not a perfect person,
there's many things I wish I didn't do.
But I continue learning..." -Hoobastank

Twinners

2011-04-05T09:58:00.000-07:00

So I think Addy may have a long-lost twin.

At least it's clear that she and Justin Bieber have the same hairdresser...

What do you think?

A Tale of Two Sandwiches

2011-04-04T10:20:00.000-07:00

I've been on a bit of a grilled cheese kick recently, sparked by my visit to Grilled Cheese Grill. A little while ago when I was in the neighborhood of little t american baker in SE Portland, I seized the opportunity to try a Deluxe Grilled Cheese Sandwich (ordered with bacon, for a bit extra) on their fantastic Sally Lunn bread.

Toasted to perfection.

Delicious melty goodness.

The bread was absolutely fantastic-- enough that I almost thought I would like it better by itself so I could just enjoy the bread without any distractions. But then I'm kind of weird that way... on Christmas Eve, Dave's family has a buffet dinner centered around cold-cut sandwiches on his mom's delicious homemade dinner rolls. But I will always have the rolls plain with butter and the cheese and meat separately so they don't get in the way of enjoying the buttery goodness of the rolls.

But back to little t baker... the sandwich was delicious: great cheese, high-quality bacon, amazing bread. I think an appointment with a cardiologist is not in order. Now if only it had something sweet and tangy to contrast with the cheese... oh wait, reminder to self: destroying my food cred by my hang-up with Miracle Whip on Grilled Cheese is not a good idea. :)

So is there a grilled cheese sandwich out there that will satisfy that craving for something sweet and tangy along with the cheese? On a Saturday, Dave and I tried out a recipe I had cut out from FoodDay in The Oregonian ages ago for a grilled cheese sandwich with grilled pear and aged Gouda.


Sauteeing the pear.

I didn't actually grill the sandwich on an outdoor grill like the recipe recommends-- I just used a griddle for the sandwich and I sauteed the pears. I also ran out of Gouda midway so I used Dubliner white cheddar to fill it out.

Grated Gouda and Dubliner cheese

The recipe also referred to a "master recipe" for grilling up the sandwich-- which I unfortunately neglected to cut out a year and a half ago when I originally found the recipe. I figured I could make a grilled cheese sandwich without particular instructions, so I just cooked it up.

Grilling up the cheese.

The flavor combination of pear and Gouda with a little bit of thyme was fantastic. Unfortunately, the only bread I had on hand when I decided to conduct this experiment was Orowheat Whole Wheat Sandwich Bread (curse my health-consciousness!). So I will have to conduct this experiment again sometime with some good artisan bread-- maybe even Little T Baker Sally Lunn bread.

The finished sandwich, cooked on Orowheat Whole Wheat, which was-- unfortunately-- all I had on hand.

Grilled Pear and Aged Gouda Grilled Cheese

Makes 1 sandwich

Ingredients

2 to 3 (1/4-inch-thick) slices of ripe but firm pear (unpeeled)
Olive oil, for brushing
1/4 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme leaves
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 5/8-inch-thick slices good-quality artisan bread (avoid ciabatta, which has too many holes)
1/2 cup lightly packed shredded aged gouda

Instructions

Brush the pear slices lightly with some oil, sprinkle with the thyme and season with salt and pepper. Grill the slices over medium heat (see note) for a few minutes until warm and starting to brown a bit.
Assemble and grill the sandwich as in the master recipe.
Note: To check grill temperature, count the seconds you can hold your hand, palm side down, 2 to 3 inches above the rack, until it feels uncomfortable: 4 seconds for medium.

------------------------------
And just for reference, in case you wanted to actually grill your sandwich on the grill, I found the master recipe online after the fact.

Master Recipe for Grilled Cheese on the Grill

Published August 11, 2009

Makes 1 sandwich

Ingredients

2 5/8-inch-thick slices good-quality artisan bread (avoid ciabatta, which has too many holes)
Olive oil, for brushing
1 heaping teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/2 cup lightly packed shredded sharp or extra-sharp cheddar
2 to 3 very thin slices tomato
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

Light a gas or charcoal grill and heat to medium (see note).
Brush one side of each piece of bread lightly with olive oil (make sure the slices will line up properly once you sandwich them together). Put the bread on a cutting board or plate, oiled sides down, and spread the un-oiled sides with the mustard. Distribute the cheese evenly over both slices of bread, arrange the tomatoes on one slice, and season with salt and pepper.
Put both pieces of bread on the grill, cheese side up, and close the lid; cook for about 1 minute — this will help the cheese melt.
With a spatula, take the bread from the grill, put the slices together like a sandwich and return it to the grill. Close the lid and cook another 1 to 2 minutes on each side until the bread is nicely browned and toasted and the cheese is beginning to ooze from the center.
Transfer to a cutting board, let rest about a minute to firm up a touch (so the layers don't slide apart when you cut the sandwich). Cut in half or quarters, and serve.
Note: To check grill temperature, count the seconds you can hold your hand, palm side down, 2 to 3 inches above the rack, until it feels uncomfortable: 4 seconds for medium.

A Day at the Park

2011-04-03T18:25:00.000-07:00

A couple of Saturdays ago Dave was doing some work from home. Addy was down for her nap and we had a few hours respite from rain, so the older kids talked me into taking them to the school playground.

We even saw a scrap or two of blue sky for a minute....

Grilled Cheese Grill

2011-04-02T08:57:00.000-07:00

A few weeks back Dave and I went out to eat at a place that just may have the coolest ambiance of any restaurant in Portland. Except that it's not actually a restaurant. It's not exactly a food cart either. The Grilled Cheese Grill is a school bus turned eatery. The dining room is a converted school bus with the food cooked up in an adjacent food cart.

Grilled Cheese Grill's "Dining Room"

I don't know about you, but I wasn't allowed to eat on the school bus-- and definitely not with grilled-to-order sandwiches, tables built in between the benches and classic 80's music blaring in the background. There's even a school-style intercom that tells you when your sandwich is ready to pick up from the grill (so you don't have to wait outside in the rain for your order). The tables even come equipped with Trivial Pursuit cards to while away the time spent waiting for your sandwich, just in case you have a really boring date--- or, in my case, just need to be taken down a notch. I finally got two questions right... total.

We were racing off to something else so we scarfed our sandwiches down in a hurry. Dave got "The BABS": bacon, sliced Braeburn apples, brie and swiss (he got it on sourdough instead of rye-- I've never been a fan of rye). It was a great flavor combination-- I even managed to snag a couple of bites from him before it was gone.

I ordered "The Stickles"-- a creation of Tillamook Pepperjack, avocado, red onion and roasted red peppers on "Dave's Killer Bread" cracked wheat-- with a side of tomato soup. I wasn't overly impressed with the tomato soup-- it was pretty marginal-- but the sandwich was yummy.

As much as I like trying new flavor combinations, I am a sucker for a homemade Tillamook cheddar sandwich on sourdough. At the risk of losing any foodie cred, I have to admit that I have a weird grilled cheese hang-up from my childhood. When I was growing up my mom always made grilled cheese sandwiches with Miracle Whip on the inside (you know, like you would on any cold cut sandwich--but minus the cold cuts). Dave thinks this is super-gross (Who is he to talk? He dips his grilled cheese in ketchup...), but the Miracle Whip gives a tangy sweet flavor that nicely contrasts with the cheese and bread. (Yes, yes, in a cheap Miracle-Whippy kind of way. But old hang-ups die hard.) So every time I have a grilled cheese sandwich anywhere, I wait for the tangy sweet contrast and it always falls short. So if any of you foodie friends have a more tasty sweet-tangy solution than Miracle Whip, I need to hear it! But I digress... back to Grilled Cheese Grill.

We had plans to eat dessert later that evening at Papa Haydn, so I didn't have a chance to sample "The Jaime": mascarpone, Nutella and grilled banana on cinnamon-swirl bread (they suggest eating this one in private). I guess I'll just have to make another trip....

Gourmet food this is not. But I suppose gourmet is not exactly what you'd expect from a converted school bus blaring 80's music that dishes out cheese sandwiches from a cart at all hours of the day and night. But it is a fab spot for tasty comfort food with great flavor combinations and seriously awesome ambiance.

Baby Addy-Cakes

2011-04-01T14:39:00.000-07:00

"Baby" Adelyn will turn 18 months old next week. Addy, also known as "Addy-Cakes," is a full-blown toddler now-- even though she still gets treated as the baby of the family. She likes to think that she is one of the "big kids." She keeps herself busy tagging along after the older kids and exploring our house and everything in it. Emptying cupboards and drawers, opening DVD cases, unzipping my purse and exploring its contents, pulling hairbands out of her hair, pushing computer keys, opening file cabinets and dumping their contents, pushing remote control buttons, smooshing bananas in her hair and drinking milk are among her favorite activities.

Other favorite pastimes include dropping food or other objects down her sleeper,

giving hugs or riding around on mommy's hip,

calling random people on mom's cell phone--or turning any object with buttons into a "phone,"

eating oranges (she takes bites out of the peel but she eventually spits those out) and...

giving huge smiles.

She's a busy girl!

Bouncing Off the Walls

2011-04-01T09:02:00.000-07:00

For Jackson's only birthday present last year, we got him a bounce house (I know, tough life). While we have a really great house, we have a really lame backyard-- it is small, steeply slanted and is two stories below the main floor of the house so it isn't very easy to get out there and play. So our response to this problem-- intensified by the fact that Jackson is VERY active and physical-- was to get a bounce house for the basement as a kind of a "backyard substitute." It's way cheaper than moving, right? (I know, I know, I'm a pro at justification.)

At one point we had one of those home "ball pits" (you know, the kind that don't have enough balls to actually jump in and last for about two weeks before they are completely destroyed), so we have lots of leftover plastic balls still hanging around the basement. I don't know if it was Addy or the kids who started it (because Addy is known for depositing random objects inside her sleeper) but the kids made a game of seeing how many plastic balls they could fit in Addy's sleeper. The end result is a smaller, pinker version of the Incredible Hulk.

Apparently, Camryn caught on to this trend and figured she could use some muscular enhancement as well.

Goodness knows that my kids are always bouncing off the walls. I admit that I harbored the secret hope that purchasing a thing exclusively devoted to "bouncing off the walls" would save our other walls some wear and tear. That hasn't panned out, but the bounce house is still really fun.

Do You Love Your Neighbor?

2011-03-31T08:31:00.000-07:00

Going back to some of my deeper thoughts of the last month, I often struggle to find a healthy level of self-esteem. Maybe it ties into my hang-ups with mommy stereotypes, but I often fall into feeling like I need to be perfect or AMAZING or at least really great at something. I have a terrible habit of being really hard on myself, even if I am honestly trying my best.

I have recently pondered the scriptural admonition to "Love thy neighbor as thyself." I think I have always unconsciously twisted that scripture into "Love thy neighbor MORE THAN thyself," which-- at least at first glance-- sounds like it would be more noble and less selfish than loving yourself and neighbors equally. But loving yourself isn't always as simple as it looks.

Most of the time I think I am a reasonable "neighbor" or friend to the people I come in contact with. Let's picture a friend coming up to me and saying, "I'm having a really hard day today. I feel awful about myself because still haven't lost my baby weight. My house is a mess and I feel like a terrible mother. My kids fight and I am never on time." How would I respond? I would probably tell her, "Don't be so hard on yourself! It's totally not reasonable to expect to look like a supermodel when you have a baby and multiple other kids to take care of. Your kids will remember the time you spent with them, not how your house looked. You're a great mother! Everyone's kids fight sometimes and being late sometimes is not the end of the world!" At least I hope that I would say something like that. I know I would at least say, "You know, you are trying your best and that's all we can do. You don't need to be perfect. Just don't give up!" And I expect that most decent friends would say something along these same lines.

Let's change this up a bit now. Let's say that I am having a hard day and think to myself this same thing: "I'm having a really hard day today. I feel awful about myself because still haven't lost my baby weight. My house is a mess and I feel like a terrible mother. My kids fight and I am never on time." How do I respond to myself? I tell myself (as any *reasonable* person would): "But you ARE a terrible mother. That's why you are having such a hard time. And you are SO FAT. Your kids fight because you are such a terrible mother. Maybe if you weren't so lazy and didn't let them watch so much TV they wouldn't fight so much. And if you just got off your duff and exercised or put down that box of cookies your baby weight would have been gone months ago! And anyone can keep their house clean. It's not rocket science. Sheesh."

Because I wouldn't want to be one of those selfish, self-absorbed, self-loving people, right? And I'm just being honest with myself about my shortcomings, right? That's a *virtue*. So if I'm following the biblical injunction to "love my neighbor as thyself," does that mean that I should tell all of my friends that they are fatties, bad mothers, pathetic for not keeping their house cleaner and at fault for all of their kids' tantrums? Um, yeah.

The funny thing is that I've found that when I'm in that negative place of hating and being hard on myself I don't have much charity or goodwill left to extend to other people. And frankly, I don't think that I'm being very honest with myself in the above example either. Somehow it seems okay to equate being negative with being honest-- at least concerning yourself-- rather than really aiming for a balanced analysis. Does losing your temper occasionally or letting your kids watch TV when you need a break really make you a BAD mother? Really, Karen?

So how do you "love" yourself without becoming selfish or self-absorbed? Maybe the answer comes from that scripture: loving myself as I love my neighbor. Seeing myself as just another person, no more or less important than any others, no more or less perfect than any other bumbling human being trying to make their way through life as best they can. So the next time I have that bad day and start to rag on myself because it's noon and I haven't showered, my kids are watching TV and I'm writing a blog post instead of doing my dishes (I plead the fifth-- although I am dressed and the TV is off-- at least for the moment), I'm going to respond differently: "You're just having a hard day, Karen. You may not look like a supermodel (who does?) but you look really good-- especially for having had four kids. You totally wiped the counters today-- that counts doesn't it? You sanitize your bathrooms at least every other month. (Germs are good for kids' immune systems, right?) And a kid like Jackson could put any person in the loony bin!" (Hmmmm, I may need some practice at this....)

Let's try this again: "Karen, you are a good mom. You are not a perfect mom and probably never will be, but you are good enough. You love your kids, spend time with them and do your best. You look just fine. Your house is just fine. It isn't perfectly clean but it is clean enough. You are doing what matters -- not perfectly-- but well enough. So give yourself a break. You know, you are trying your best and that's all we can do. You don't need to be perfect. Just don't give up!"

Wildwood Valentines

2011-03-30T18:21:00.000-07:00

Since I was gone on Valentine's Day this year, Dave and I celebrated a little bit late with a Friday-night dinner at Wildwood. I've been wanting to try Wildwood for a while but this was my first time. The problem with waiting to blog about something until 6 weeks after the fact is that it is really hard to remember what you ordered. And since Wildwood is a typical Portland restaurant with a menu that is seasonal and so frequently changes, I can't even cheat by looking at their menu online to see what it was that I ordered. (Dangit!) So I'll just have to do my best.

The meal was a really great balance of unique and approachable. Portland is an amazing city for restaurants. There is an abundance of fresh, seasonal, local ingredients and chefs using those ingredients at their best. The creativity at some of the restaurants here is tremendous, but sometimes that creativity can be a little bit overwhelming or more "interesting" than delicious. This meal found that happy medium of giving the ingredients a creative spark without overwhelming their natural flavor. (Basically, it was just plain delicious.)

We began with a pair of starters: Shaved Fennel Salad with Toasted Almonds and Wild Mushroom Gnocchi. The shaved fennel salad had a light, springy flavor to it. The shaved fennel was crisp with a piquant twist while the cheese shavings and almonds added a nice contrast of flavor and texture. It was good, but edging a little bit more toward the "interesting" than outright delicious (probably because I was comparing it to the AMAZING shaved asparagus salad I had at Nostrana last spring). But as one piece of an entire meal, it was a satisfying contrast to the other dishes.

Shaved Fennel Salad with toasted almonds and grana padano

Dave and I both noted that whenever we hear the word "gnocchi," we think of our second "date" ("date" is in quotes because Dave didn't really ask me out or I him). Our second quasi-date was going to the opera in Salt Lake to see Tosca. It was a group with me, my brother, my roommate, her brother and Dave. We went out for dinner beforehand at an Italian restaurant called Dal Fornello. My roommate's brother and I had an extended conversation on how much we liked gnocchi. Dave couldn't tell if I liked this roommate's brother or not, so he had a prejudice against gnocchi ever after.

This gnocchi was enough to break even Dave's prejudice. The Wild Mushroom Gnocchi was one of the best dishes I have eaten in Portland. So. incredibly. good. Gnocchi is a pasta-like dumpling that is made with potatoes. The mushrooms gave it a rich meaty flavor. Dave is not big on mushrooms, but he still LOVED this dish.

The gnocchi to end all gnocchi....

We ordered our main courses based on the waiter's recommendation (and here is where my memory gets foggy). We got lamb with a side of pureed root vegetables (think parsnips) and grouper with almonds. (How's that for great food writing? They were really delicious but it was almost two months ago....)

Hazelnut Creme Brulee with Hazelnut Macaroons

For dessert we had a Hazelnut Creme Brulee (complete with hazelnut macaroons filled with chocolate buttercream) and Apple Almond Frangipane Tart (with Brown Butter Ice Cream, Candied Almonds and "Apple Cider Gastrique", oh my!). The creme brulee concept was intriguing, but in execution it didn't push my buttons-- I prefer simple unadulterated vanilla and cream. But I have a weakness for macaroons and thoroughly enjoyed those. The Apple Almond Frangipane Tart, on the other hand, was absolutely amazing. The almond filling set off the apple and pastry, while the brown butter ice cream and candied almonds filled out the equation. Wow.

Don't you love the dried apple "flare" in the middle? :)

Valentine's Day has never been one of my favorite holidays... It has always ended up filed under either "Single's Awareness Day," "Marketing Scheme to Get You to Spend Money by Buying Random Gifts that Your Spouse Won't Like" or "Just one more reason for your kids to get mounds of candy and junk food at school." This is even when weighed against the compelling fact that See's Candies sells "Hot Hearts" just for this holiday (think giant, chewy red hots, but better...). But after a meal like this, I might reconsider.... Not that I need an excuse for an amazing meal, but it's always nice to have one, nonetheless.

Uno: Jackson Style

2011-03-30T16:17:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago we discovered a new card game: "Uno: Jackson Style." We used to always play a house-rules take on Uno that we called "Super Uno" or "Match." In this version you can can throw down an exact match of the card facing up at any time- even out of turn. It makes for a fun twist just when you least expect it.

In an attempt to have a game night involving all of the kids, we developed a new version that you might dub "Super-Jackson-Uno." You play Uno with the normal rules, except that Jackson can lay any card at any time and it counts. So you have a fun twist just when you least expect it. And it kind worked.

Meanwhile Addy discovered that she loves popcorn.

Sunday game night with popcorn for dinner was a de facto tradition in my house growing up. We used to tease my mom because if we ever asked what we she felt like for dinner, the answer would be "popcorn." I guess we know where Addy inherited it from. ;)

What's Your Mommy Stereotype?

2011-03-26T09:16:00.000-07:00

Recently I have had a lot on my mind, not much of which has made it to my blog. My blog has been mostly relegated to "travel catch-up" and hasn't really been a sounding board for my thoughts recently.

For a while now, I have been mentally wrestling with the idea of what it means to be a good person, specifically what it means to be a good mother. It's easy to feel pressure to conform to some of the mommy stereotypes out there, regardless of which school of thought you subscribe to, and believe me, there are lots to choose from:

Susie Homemaker (An oldie but goodie--"Do YOU make your own bread?")
Working Mom Who Has and Does it All (Another classic)
Completely-Organized-and-Together-and-Always-Prompt-With-a-Perfectly-Clean-House Mom ("I'm SO embarrassed that you dropped by and there's a single toy in my entryway!")
Super-Involved Soccer-Mom/School Room-Mother who Volunteers for Every School Event
Baby-Wearing Attachment-Parenting Creative Home-Schooling Mommy ("I-wear-my-child-in-a-sling-on-my-hip-until-they-are-three-so-they-will-grow-up-to-be-more-well-adjusted-than-yours")
Spiritual Mommy (The one whose seven children sit completely reverently with perfectly combed hair and arms quietly folded at church each Sunday-- whose children LOVE their daily family devotional/scripture time.)
Urban Hip Mommy (Looks effortlessly cool as she pushes her designer stroller, sips her Starbucks skinny steamer and fiddles with her iphone while her kids--dressed to the nines in Baby Gap--play at the Children's Museum.)
The Hot Momma (A perfect size 4 with flat abs that look like they've never been acquainted with maternity clothes. Wakes up with her make-up done and hair styled. LOVES the gym.)
Pillar of the Community Mom (Makes dinner for anyone who has a baby, president of the women's organization at church, serves on the school board or PTA, first to sign up on any service project volunteer list)
Mary Poppins Nanny Mother ("Takes them on outings, gives them treats, sings songs, brings sweets. Never is cross or cruel, never gives them castor oil or gruel...")
Achievement/Extra-Curricular-Oriented Super-Mommy with AMAZING Children ("Ryder has been so busy preparing again for the engineering competition that he won last year that he hardly has any time left for his cello practice!")
Enviro-Conscious Diapers-with-Cloth While Preparing Locavore Meals with Organic Produce Delivered from the Local CSA Mom (Okay, maybe that one is unique to Portland)

I am not saying that any or all of these stereotypes are bad. Most- if not all- of them have some worthy elements to them. But most of the "good mother" stereotypes have one thing in common: they are all equally unattainable for a normal woman who has normal children. I frequently fall prey to feeling like I have to fit one of these stereotypes-- perfectly, no less-- in order to be a "good" mother. Heck, if I'm being completely honest, I think I have at least wanted to be every single one of these stereotypes ALL AT ONCE (some are more out of reach for me than others...).

So back to the question at hand... what makes a good mother? Is it how smart or talented your kids are? How much you volunteer? How clean your house is? I often get stuck on these things. How do you know when "good" is "good enough"? I'm still working on the answers to all of this and when I figure it out I will let you all know-- heck, I'll publish a best-selling book and use the proceeds to hire a personal chef, get daily housecleaning, force my way onto "What Not to Wear" for a wardrobe makeover and spend a couple of months traveling to "discover myself".

But for now I've realized one thing that-- at least for me-- is true. I've been trying to "do" a good mother rather than "be" a good mother. As if somehow doing enough things or fitting a certain stereotype will suddenly make me feel like I have arrived. Motherhood is all about uncertainty. You are raising real people: they have their own free will and make their own choices. There's no way to know if you are doing the right thing or if you responded the right way or were too mean or too lenient or just right. There's no validation fairy that jumps in and says, "Great job! You were really firm in that situation and that's going to make all the difference in your child's life even though now he thinks you're the worst mom ever." Furthermore, you can't control your children or predict what life will throw at you or at them. You can only love them, teach them and do your best. And right now "doing my best" is about being: being loving, being kind, being firm, being "mean" (at least sometimes), being available, and just being there. Being a mother.

Ode to an Empty House (My Mom's Response to My Poem)

2011-03-25T10:17:00.000-07:00

My mom wrote the following response to my poem, "Ode to My Messy House." After raising 6 kids who are now all grown and on their own, here is her perspective.

Ode to an Empty House by Laurel (Karen's mom)

It’s amazing to see a whole house stay so clean

When not one single child all month it has seen.

The dishes are few and the spills don’t exist.

There are many less cleaning chores down on my list.

The bathrooms are tidy, the laundry stays done.

I find I am forced to make messes for fun.

The carpets stay fluffy, the floors keep their shine.

There’s barely a clean-up whenever we dine.

I have so many more hours of free time to spend.

Those years of hard work suddenly came to an end.

The house stays so quiet, each room is so still.

There are so many hours of time I must fill.

And though I am grateful for this stage of ease

And I have to admit that life now is a breeze,

I find that I miss all that chaos and mess

Between lonely and chaos, I like lonely less!

And so I accept the life changes that come.

After thirty plus years my parenting’s done.

But I would gladly take back all the stress and the clutter

Just to have one child ask me for bread and some butter.

For Spring Break...Some Winter!

2011-03-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

The kids are on spring break this week. On Tuesday I took the three older kids and two of their friends for a day of tubing on Mt. Hood. In the four years we have lived in Oregon, I have never been to Mt. Hood yet. We went to the Tubing Adventure Park at Mt. Hood Skibowl. They have a tubing hill that is served by a tow lift. It was AWESOME. I loved sledding as a kid, but as a grown-up, having to trudge your way up a hill through knee-deep snow somehow takes the thrill out of it. But if you have a lift-- now that is the way to tube!

As soon as we got there, the kids immediately jumped in the snow and started playing.

Can't wait to get in the snow.

Camryn just can't get enough!

Sliding down the hill, no tubes required.

Then we got tubes and took got towed to the top of the tubing hill.

Jackson and I spent the day tubing together on a double tube.

The tubing hill.

Looking up the tubing hill from the bottom.

Jackson was in heaven!

Connie after a tubing run.

Riding the tubes up the towing lift.

Jackson riding his tube up the lift.

They even had one tubing run that was carved out into curves so you would go up the sides of the ice walls.

Jared heading down a tubing run.

Connie and Camryn ready to head down the hill.

After our two-hour tubing pass ran out, the kids spent another hour and a half playing in the snow and playing in the indoor kids play area.

Jared and Connie working on a snow fort.

Connie piling up the snow.

Camryn building her defenses for the snowball fight.

The kid-sized snowmobile track (we didn't do this, but it looked fun).

They had an indoor jungle gym with a ball pit. The kids had a fun time burning off whatever energy they had left after tubing.

The indoor jungle gym

A slide and crawling tube.

Okay, so maybe the building for the jungle gym isn't the most posh ever.

Jackson loved digging in the snow.

Camryn in the ball pit.

Obstacle course

There was another "advanced" tubing hill, further up the mountain (right past the play area). However, this hill was not served by a tow lift, so we didn't try it out.

The "advanced" tubing hill

The lodge

Before we could get back into the car the kids had to take one last dive in the snow bank next to our parked car.

One last dive in the snow.

Just to prove I was there too....

P.S. You would think that with a lift I would avoid soreness, but pulling Jackson in his tube across the snow at the bottom of the hill and the top gave my arms a workout!

An Ode to My Messy House

2011-03-24T12:11:00.000-07:00

Rather than diligently using my spring "break" (ha, ha, ha-- to all mothers with kids home from school) for spring cleaning, I thought I might more profitably use my time to complete a poem that's been unfinished for a while (like so many other things in my life.)

An Ode to My Messy House

Oh here’s to the virtues of cooking and cleaning!

To rooms that are tidy and kids that aren’t screaming,

To organized living with style and grace,

a place for each thing and each thing in its place.

Just because these high standards feel out of my reach

doesn’t mean I don’t value the merits of each.

But while cleanliness, neatness and order are nice,

for now other virtues will have to suffice:

Oh here’s to the calmness of quietly sitting!

To resting, enjoying and conscious omitting.

To lingering, laughing, adventures and fun:

All the things that can’t wait till the housework is done.

So while organized living is still “on my list”

I don’t need a spotless house just to exist.

There are virtues enough simply living with zest.

Sometimes a disorganized house can be best.

by Karen, 3/24/2011

Lake Las Vegas (As Long As I'm Stuck in Last October)

2011-03-23T17:04:00.000-07:00

As long as I'm writing about something that happened last October, I'm going to add one more late post into the mix. Actually, when I was looking at pictures for the last Paris post, I found these pictures from the final leg of my October trip. The entire family flew to California for my brother's wedding. Then I flew to London/Paris via New York (where I met up with my friend and travel companion, Ranell). Dave, on the other hand, went to Lake Las Vegas, where he had a two-week training conference for work (the whole reason he couldn't go to Europe with me in the first place).

One of the perks of being required to go to this mandatory training was that at the end of the training, as "compensation" for taking employees from their families for two whole weeks, they flew the entire family out to Lake Las Vegas for the remainder of the weekend, paying for our airfare, hotel and meals. Suh-weet! (Wait a second--- since when is Dave's company interested in "compensating" for time away from the family? I used to keep track of days that Dave had off but worked anyway but lost count after five....) But regardless of past grievances, I wasn't going to turn down the opportunity for a free vacation, even if that free vacation meant braving a two-hour flight alone with four children.

My mom and sister drove me to the San Jose airport to drop me, four kids and bazillion suitcases (full of all of the kids' stuff from two weeks in CA) off. When we pulled in there was a firetruck blocking the Southwest skycap, so we parked as close as we could and my sister waited in the car with the kids while my mom and I started shuttling all of our bags to the skycap.

I never noticed before that the sign says "For security reasons." Come on! We all know it's so you don't get those people who arrive 30 minutes early to pick up their Aunt Betty and sit blocking the terminal the entire time.

As my mom and I were transporting ten large suitcases to the skycap as quickly as we could, one of the parking police came up to my sister, who was sitting in the car with the bags and children, and asked her to move the car because she had been parked there too long. She tried to explain to him that she was waiting with the children that belonged to her sister who was traveling and active unloading suitcases to check for the flight. She told him that she needed to stay there and wasn't going to move, so the policeman wrote her a ticket.

Parked, as you can see, one sign- or one fire truck's length- away from the Southwest skycap.

My sister was ticked and asked to talk to his supervisor. Before long, we had three police officers and a supervisor congregated outside my mom's minivan, all to take care of this "disturbance" of a woman insisting that she needed to stay parked so her sister could retrieve her children for her flight once her bags were checked.

Responding to the "threat" of a woman waiting for her sister to check bags in a "loading" zone.

The supervisor (who I think was just ticked that my sister was ticked at him) refused to rescind the ticket, insisting that we were parked too far away from the skycap, notwithstanding the fact that there had been a firetruck in the way when we started unloading. Yep, with 4 kids and 10 suitcases we just decided it would be MORE FUN to park far away. So instead we just took pictures of all of the officers and circumstances involved in case they were needed to get the ticket revoked in court (they weren't). (Did I mention that my sister's a lawyer and you shouldn't mess with her?)

The happy supervisor who insisted that we were parked too far from the Southwest counter to be unloading.

After finally checking our bags, I braved the security lines with four kids, three carry-ons, two carseats, one stroller and a partridge in a pear tree. (Sheesh! I'm sure having to work for this free vacation....)

At least two children were old enough to carry their own backpacks!

Those pack mules ain't got nothin' on me!

We finally made it onto the plane, survived the flight and made it to Vegas. We met up with our driver who took us to beautiful Lake Las Vegas. We soon found out why Dave's company was willing to pay for a hotel room for family out for the end of his conference. Lake Las Vegas-- a beautiful resort development-- was a product of the real estate bubble. Conceived when Las Vegas real estate was at its peak, now several of the hotels there are in bankruptcy and sit empty and those that remain have some screaming killer deals on rooms. Nonetheless, it's a beautiful, if somewhat deserted, would-be resort.

On Friday night, Dave and I went to a dinner while the kids went to company-provided child care (okay, so maybe it was worth the plane flight with four kids). On Saturday we did some sight-seeing. We drove into Las Vegas and took the kids to the Adventuredome at Circus Circus for a ride on the indoor roller coaster. Dave took a video of his and Jared's ride on the roller coaster on his phone. This is still Jackson's all-time entertain-myself-on-dad's-phone-when-he-gets-tired-of-trying-to-keep-me-quiet video.

Going up the roller coaster.

Waiting for the "bid kids" to get off the roller coaster.

We then went into Circus Circus to see the free Circus shows. We saw some clowns doing a juggling show and a pretty great troupe of acrobats. We also established that Circus Circus is every bit as musty and trashy (with dank-smelling motel carpets) as it was when my family stopped by to go to the buffet once on a drive home from visiting grandparents in St. George.

Juggling clowns!

The acrobats doing their thing.

They made it look so easy and even did it to a reggae soundtrack!

After our quick stint on the roller coaster and the circus show (and deciding that trying to take four kids to see a show wasn't worth the $$/potential for disaster) we decided that we really aren't Vegas people and headed back to our abandoned resort community to swim.

Jared and Cam soaking up what was left of the sun.

Who needs Vegas? I've got a pool!

"Okay. It's not THAT warm."

After the pool, we got cleaned up and headed to one of the resort restaurants for dinner. We got a patio table overlooking the green. Even Jackson behaved reasonably well.

When we finished our dinner we sat out on the grass to enjoy the free jazz performance. I wish I remember the singer's name. She rocked out.

Jared grooving to live jazz.

Yet another self-taken photo.

On Sunday morning we went out to feed the birds in the plaza area of the resort with some free bread we got from the convenience store the night before (the man gave it to us with the suggestion that we could use it to feed the birds). I think this was one of the trip highlights for the kids. (Yep, we flew all the way to Vegas so we could feed some birds.)

Feeding the birds.

Lake Las Vegas

Feeding the ducks

We walked around the grounds of the resort and fed some ducks (in addition to the pigeons we fed at breakfast).

Before long, our weekend jaunt (Can you call any trip with 10 suitcases and four kids a "jaunt"?) was over and it was time to head to the airport. Waiting in line and braving the flight with four kids is much easier with another adult. (Let me just say that Dave was duly impressed that I did it by myself on the way there.)

Headed home.

Last Post in Paris (The End of An Epic)

2011-03-21T23:59:00.000-07:00

Yes, this is my final Europe trip post. Yes, THAT Europe trip... the one that happened in October, about five months ago. What can I say? I'm prompt.

My final Parisian breakfast: a pastry from, you guessed it, Paul Patisserie.

We decided to culminate our final (half) day in Paris with a visit to the Arc d'Triomphe and a stroll down the Champs Elysees.

Looking appropriately triumphant.

Climbing the stairs to the top of the Arc d'Triomphe

At the top of the Arc d'Triomphe you have sweeping 360 degree views of Paris, including great views of the Eiffel Tower.

The grand Parisian Boulevards, fanning out from the Arc d'Triomphe

The view of Le Tour Eiffel

View from the top of the Arc d'Triomphe

The bottom of the looooong stairs.

Yes, it really is bigger than it looks.

Tomb of the unknown soldier

Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite

A quick photo of our favorite tour bus-- the one with the growling French Neil Diamond soundtrack.

We strolled from the Arc d'Triomphe down the Champs Elysees, making a quick stop at Laduree to buy some Parisian macaroons: a box to take home and a couple for the road. Tres fantastique!

Posing in front of the main Laduree store.

Yes, those are trees of macarons. Be still my beating heart

They taste even better than they look.

An American movie billboard-- in French-- on the Champs Elysees.

Ranell with one of the Art Deco "Metro" signs.

We finally ran out of time (alas!) and caught a cab back to the hotel to pick up our bags and take us to our airport shuttle stop. We bid a final farewell to our beautiful hotel, the Concorde Opera Paris (Thank you, Priceline!).

The grand hotel lobby

Some serious chandeliers going on!

The Concorde Opera Hotel

Across the street from our hotel. Really? People eat at McDonald's in Paris?

We got to the airport, checked our bags and grabbed a final Parisian lunch at the airport outlet of Paul.

Then we headed off to our separate flights home, Ranell to Portland and I back to San Jose (to meet up with my kids at Grandma's house). I --one of the least visibly emotional woman on the planet (well, maybe with the exception of my mother and sister)-- actually got teary as I looked out at Paris from the window of my plane. Something about this city touched me. Maybe it possessed a sort of "live for the moment" attitude that I am noticeably lacking. Maybe it was a chance for me to "rediscover myself"-- as a person, not just as a wife, mommy or a something to someone else. What is that quote from the movie Sabrina? "I found myself in Paris." "Were you missing?" Maybe I was....

To quote yet another movie, "Let us not say goodbye, but as the French say, 'Au revoir!'"

Goodbye, dear Paris! Until we meet again! I hope we meet again soon!

Postscript: My lovely solo flight of uninterrupted reading across the Atlantic was followed by a short layover in Atlanta. Because of some unusual weather and high winds, this two hour layover turned into an unintentional overnight. But instead of telling us this at the outset, it was told to us in two-hour intervals as we waited on benches in the terminal. As the announcer on the terminal intercom said in his Southern accent: "It is what it is, folks." Not only did I get my fitful sleep on the terminal bench interrupted by hourly announcements that it was going to be "just one more hour," I was given a $5 certificate good at the airport food court for my pains. Yes! Nothing like a free yogurt to help you get over a mismanaged delay of an extra 12 hours.

So, if sleeping on a bench in the Atlanta airport was on your bucket list, I've given you just one more reason to be jealous. :)

Trying to catch a few winks on a bench at the Atlanta airport.

Unbreakable?

2011-03-10T21:51:00.000-08:00

Corelle and I have always had a stormy relationship. Apparently, we still don't get along that well.

From the Corelle website: "We use a unique material called Vitrelle^® , which gives our plates and bowls that legendary Corelle durability. It also gives them a number of other benefits that other brands can't offer." Like instant shattering when encountered by a one-year-old.

"Tempered Glass for Break Resistance," huh? Resist this:

Paris: Day 4

2011-03-08T20:04:00.000-08:00

Continuing my grand tradition of posting about things several months after the fact... from an email to Dave on October 26, 2010
...

"We had our first impact from the French strike today (Woo hoo!!) making it a true Parisian experience. Okay, fine, the impact wasn't that big. We woke up super early to go to Versailles. We wanted to get there as soon as it opened so we could get back and do a few things in Paris this afternoon. Luckily, we decided to ask the hotel concierge before we left if it was open. It was open today, but it was opening an hour and a half late. So we altered our plan and spent the morning at the Musee d'Orsay (mostly French neo-classical and impressionist art). I grabbed my morning yogurt and pastry and we got on a city bus (much less stinkier than the metro). Unfortunately we didn't realize that some of the stops were only going one way so we went past our stop all the way to the Latin Quartier. We realized our mistake, hopped off, started walking back the other way down the street in the frosty fall morning until we caught another bus back to the Orsay. Even with this little mishap we still got in line 10 minutes before it opened.

We spent almost two hours at the Orsay. I heard a couple of people say that they liked the Orsay better than the Louvre, but I think that raised my expectations a bit high because I absolutely loved the Louvre. Truthfully, I didn't love the Orsay. The sculpture was not nearly as great as the sculpture at the Louvre. I really enjoyed the Monet, Renoir and Van Gogh. I even enjoyed Cezanne and some of the others that were starting to break off into Modernism. The thing that really bothered me, honestly, was how much sensuality --or more specifically, the objectification of women--played a role in the art of that time. Don't get me wrong, there are tons of nudes at the Louvre and many paintings that are sensual, but there wasn't the same theme of woman-as-object running throughout so many of the works of art. To me there is a big difference in how I react to a nude Greek sculpture that shows the glory of the human body and a 19th century French sculpture of a naked woman lying on her side with one hip thrust out. There was the famous Manet painting of a picnic-- where the men are clothed and the women (supposedly prostitutes) conveniently have their clothes missing. It was scandalous at the time, and frankly I didn't really approve of it either. (Why do the guys get clothes and the women don't? Maybe it's the feminist in me, but come on, let's have some equality here. So women are ornamental objects?) And there was another (again, supposedly of a prostitute) of a reclining woman wearing nothing but earrings and shoes, staring frankly at the viewer like, "So?" Again, scandalous to the community at the time--- and to your poor sheltered wife. And to top it all off was a sculpture by Camille Claudel (Rodin's mistress) showing her agony at him being dragged away from her (she despaired after Rodin refused to leave his wife for her and ended up in a mental hospital). All inspiring stories no? Anyway, there were some very lovely works, but overall I left the Orsay rather depressed at the statement it made about French society at the time and love in general.

After a morning at the museum we boarded the RER (suburban train) to Versailles. After a quick 30-minute train ride on a severely overheated car (it was a cold day, but we took off lots of our layers by the end of the trip). We got out and started trekking to the chateau via a sandwich shop. We went to a place called "Class'croute." They had really great sandwiches. Mine was a crusty baguette filled with generous slices of chevre' (goat cheese), herbs and bacon. Yum! Then we readied ourselves to view the glory and history of the French monarchy.

My delicious goat cheese baguette sandwich

French sandwich guys-- kinda like Subway, right?

In front of the gate to Versailles

Versailles was seriously impressive. And almost oppressive in a way-- I think the weight of living with that much opulence would weigh down on you after a while, although I suppose if you were born into it you wouldn't know any differently. But it was truly splendid and well worth seeing.

The royal chapel at Versailles

Ranell in the famous "Hall of Mirrors."

The Hall of Mirrors

Why would you settle for sculpture when you could have gold-plated sculpture?

The Hall of Mirrors

The portrait gallery

In the courtyard

Incidentally there was an art exhibit of some Japanese artist that was displayed in the different rooms at Versailles while we were there. His "art" resembled bizarre anime cartoons and was oddly incongruous with the grandiose surroundings. (Maybe the incongruity was intentionally designed as part of the exhibit....)

What more does a French chateau need than an anime bunny with a stick?

When I see the Hall of Mirrors, I definitely think "Colorful Snowman of Smiling Cartoon Flowers."

By the end of the palace we were both tired and I felt a bit "castled" out for the day. We almost went home at that point, but decided to go around back to take a look at the grounds. The view from the back of the chateau over the "Grand Canal" rowing lake was absolutely incredible. Ranell was tired so she stayed there to people-watch and read a book while I walked through the grounds and saw the Trianon Palaces and Domaine de Marie Antoinette. The palaces were fine, mostly more of the same, but the grounds were just heart-stoppingly beautiful. I could pass on gilded halls and elaborate furniture, but give me beautiful trees and a rowing lake! I felt like Elizabeth Bennett wandering the grounds of Pemberly: there were neatly trimmed rows of hedges edged with Greek-looking statues, bordered on one side by woods with orange and yellow leaves and the other with the "Grand Canal" rowing lake. Simply breathtaking. I could have wandered for hours.

Overlooking the grounds and the Grand Canal

After Ranell and I met up again, we braved the toilet line which, like everything else at Versailles, is gargantuan and over-the-top. We seriously waited for about 15 minutes. Right when we got to the head of the line, the lady running the W.C felt the need to take a cigarette break or clean it or something, because as we stood at the front of the line lots of people came out, but still we stood there- not moving- for about 10 more minutes straight, trying not to do the pee-pee dance too obviously. We finally finished our business and headed back to Paris, stopping at the sandwich shop again. This time I got a prosciutto, feta and sun-dried tomato baguette.

The "toilette" Nazis

Back in Paris we walked a few blocks to transfer to the Metro. I hadn't ridden the Metro for a couple days, so I stuck in a ticket and thought that the message in French said that I needed to use a different ticket. I used a second ticket and then Ranell went through and hers worked. I finally tried a third, before finally realizing that the message was actually telling me to go through the doors and that I just needed to push my way through them. So I just ate 3 Euros by playing with the ticket booths for the metro-- my brain is definitely getting slower as we get more tired.

In front of Sacre Couer Basilica

A fuzzy, out-of-focus view from Sacre Couer

We got off near Monmartre to see the Sacre Couer Basilica- a church from the late 1800's on the highest hill in Paris. We were smart and paid 1,5 Euros to take the little tram to the top of the hill instead of climbing hundreds of stairs. We took some pictures of the floodlit exterior of the church, walked around the beautiful cavernous stone interior and then sat and quietly chatted until one of the people that worked there shushed us. We walked along the road next to the church and stopped to hear a street singer play the guitar and sing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" (in English, no less). He was actually quite good and while we stood there, overlooking Paris at night, the Eiffel Tower burst into its hourly "sparkle" light display. Yet another quintessentially Parisian romantic moment without a romantic companion. Both Ranell and I laughed about this and contented ourselves with having a nice friendly hug. We wandered around the touristy but fun Montmartre district. We bought a ham and cheese crepe from one of the many stands surrounding the little square down the street from the church. Basically a french quesadilla, but with fantastic cheese. I guess it goes to show that some food concepts are just universally good-- and anything with good cheese qualifies.

Eating a crepe in the Montmartre district.

As we were wandering we had a tourist couple ask us for directions in French (I was so flattered), but when we told them we didn't speak French they were relieved that we spoke English. We got out my handy-dandy map and purse-sized street atlas and helped this couple from the Netherlands find the Metro station. We wandered around a bit more and then finally settled into a cafe to have some hot chocolate and a snack. Our hot chocolate came out with dark chocolate drizzled around the bowl of the cup accompanied by little pitchers of steamed milk. It was so cute! Now if only the milk was more than lukewarm-- but it was still yummy. We got some bread and a little started plate of cheese ravioli with cheese sauce and then some Creme Brulee for dessert. We whiled away our time in a true Parisian fashion, privately chatting away for several hours on life, the universe and everything at our table in the cafe until we realized it was midnight. By the time we left there was only a French couple murmuring over their wine and a Frenchman sitting alone eating a cheese plate. We got our check and as we headed out the door, the Frenchman with the cheese plate flashed us a very knowing grin. It then dawned on me that he probably knew English and got his whole evening entertainment from eavesdropping on our "private" conversation in a "foreign" language. Ooops.

Ooh la la. Creme Brulee.

Did I mention that I love Creme Brulee?

We headed back the Metro and home to our hotel where I am now writing you this long email. I am sore all over: my legs, my feet and especially my calves. Walking on cobblestones at Versailles and a couple of other places does crazy things to your ankles and leg muscles.

So tomorrow we finally must say Bon Voyage to Paris. It has been a fantastic trip and part of me is sad to leave. But part of me is relieved to be able to rest my aching legs and see the kids and you again."

And Now... a Moment of Silence

2011-03-07T23:04:00.000-08:00

I would like to take this opportunity to observe a moment of silence and honor a super-human effort. Today I mopped my floor... the whole dang thing... on my hands and knees. It's actually shiny. I thought of forbidding my children to walk on it for a week, but settled on this moment of silence instead. Since we know this won't happen again for a loooong time...

Fuego, Fusion and Pie

2011-03-01T16:45:00.000-08:00

One of the things I love about Portland is the food carts. Food carts here are not just a typical street-side hot dog stand. Think creative, outlandish-- often gourmet-- food at affordable prices and you have Portland food carts. Many of you know my love for "Cartopia," the food cart "pod" at SE 12th and Hawthorne (Belgian fries with great dipping sauces, deep-fried pies, a wood-fired pizza cart and gourmet crepes). A new fave of mine is the "D-Street Noshery," on SE Division near 32nd. They have a collection of carts featuring choices ranging from Venezualan Arepas to Korean tacos.

Fuego de Lotus: your Portland spot for Venezuelan arepas to go

The first place I tried at D-Street Noshery was Fuego de Lotus. This cart features "Arepas," a Venezuelan wheat-free corn cake that serves as a stand-in for bread in giant sandwich-like-but-eat-with-a-fork creations. I got the pork belly with red chili maple sauce (topped with cotija cheese and cabbage salad). It was tasty but very heavy and a little bit greasy. (Full disclosure- I caught my kids' 24-hour stomach flu the next day and that may very well have influenced my assessment of the dish).

A Venezuelan "Arepa" filled with pork belly in chili maple sauce.

I finished my meal by sampling a pecan "Pie Hole" (a muffin-sized personal pie) from The Pie Spot. Their crust is amazing-- light and flaky, embodying buttery deliciousness. And their cart is so dang cute, to boot. I also sampled the Lemon Curd with Vanilla Bean pie hole on another visit. I had it topped with real whipped cream (no out-of-the-can stuff here). Seriously yum!

The Pie Spot: the home of the "Pie Hole"-- a delicious muffin-sized single-serving pie

A pecan and brown sugar "pie hole."

Perhaps my favorite lunch munchie spot here is Koi Fusion. It created a stir when it first opened in spring 2009 as a single mobile cart that advertised its whereabouts to loyal fans via Twitter. Now it has two mobile trucks and a stationary location (here at D-Street Noshery). They specialize in "Korean Mexican BBQ." Yes, you heard that right. Their signature dish is the "Korean Taco": a corn tortilla with cilantro and lime-- filled with Korean Bulgogi and bean sprouts. It may sound a bit out there, but it works.

Korean tacos

Not all of the offerings are quite so creative. There is a pizza-by-the-slice cart that I haven't tried (nothing stands out as being unique on the menu) as well as a soup cart that looks a bit more promising. Herb's Mac & Cheese looks like a definite must try as soon as I'm in the mood for a carb overload. The newest cart, Awesome Cone, looks intriguing: it uses homemade waffle cones as the vehicle for delivering savory fillings like pulled pork or sauteed mushrooms in rosemary glaze. So many options, so little time....

Pizza-- not one of the most creative options in the pod.

Herb's Mac & Cheese: Definitely on my "to-try" list-- and it's so cute!

Did I Mention I'm Amazing?

2011-03-01T07:31:00.000-08:00

When I arrived back from my Girls Weekend at the beach it was Sunday night around dinnertime. I was enthusiastically greeted by my kids and especially my husband-- who had been taking care of all four kids by himself since Friday night. Along with a visible look of relief, Dave told me that he no longer had any expectations of anything for me while I watched the kids during the day: simply keeping them alive was good enough for him.

In my excitement for the beach weekend, I had forgotten that February 6th (the day of my homecoming) is officially "Tell Karen She's Amazing Day." I came home and not only was told that I am amazing but was also given a full celebration of this most important of holidays (the perks of making your own calendar). :)

I had the royal treatment complete with a celebratory banner to mark this ceremonious occasion...

and homemade Chocolate Caramel Pecan Brownies made by my fabulous husband (Yes, ladies, that is HOMEMADE caramel on the top. Jealous comments will be accepted.)

Chocolate Caramel Pecan Brownies

To fully appreciate the true artistry of the sign requires a few close-up shots:

Don't mess with me!

Who could help but telling someone this beautiful that she is awesome?

Anyway, it's nice to be appreciated, even if it takes leaving for the weekend and establishing your own national holiday. But I could tell I was missed and it's nice to be needed. :)

Jackson wants brownies.

Addy has a big smile for mom.

Beach Weekend

2011-02-28T23:38:00.000-08:00

February is not the most cheerful month in Oregon. What better way to break the February doldrums than with a Book Club Beach Weekend? Nothing like some sand, surf and sun to get in a better mood. Okay, this is February in Oregon-- make that just sand and surf. My friend Ranell was awesome enough to host our book club at her beach condo for a kid-free weekend.(That's all it really takes to get in a better mood, right? :) )

The majestic Oregon coast

Several nights spent talking with friends until the wee hours of the morning-- check. Viewed chick flicks with all due diligence-- check. Large quantities of hummus consumed-- check. General admiration of Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy observed-- check. Drank herbal tea and hot chocolate in pajamas and slippers-- check. Shared treats and gripes and at least a couple of birth/pregnancy/child horror stories-- check. Nothing like some time away with friends to get a fresh, more cheerful perspective on life, even if the weather is stubbornly gray. (I only snapped a few pictures before I left so most of my friends don't appear-- although maybe it's better to not be documented on camera in pj's and slippers. :)

The beautiful gloom.

A solitary walk on the beach in the rain warrants a self-portrait with the cell phone, right?

Another self-portrait with the cell phone camera.

Ranell and I

Ranell and Sarah

Karam Lebanese

2011-02-25T07:30:00.001-08:00

A while ago, Dave and I decided to do something outside the box for dinner, so we decided to try Lebanese food. We went to Karam Lebanese in downtown Portland. My past experience of Middle Eastern food was pretty much limited to Americanized hummus and a couple of fantastic experiences tasting the home-cooking of an Iraqi neighbor at a neighborhood picnic. (Seriously, best. tabbouleh.ever! And her hummus... so good! Don't get me started.)

We ordered Meat Mazzawat and a braised lamb shank, although if we'd had any idea how enormous the Meat Mazzawat was going to be we would have just ordered that. For $21.95, the Meat Mazzawat gives you a huge assortment of Lebanese dishes: Tabouleh (a salad made of bulgur, parsley, mint, tomato and onion), Hummus (chickpea dip), Dolmas (stuffed grape leaves), Babba Ghanoush (a dip similar to hummus but made with eggplant), Falafel (fried chickpea balls), Kafta Kebab (think Lebanese meat-loaf-on-a-stick), Veggie Kibbee Nayee, Labne (cream cheese/yogurt dip), Baleela (a chickpea dish), Lamb Shawarma and Chicken Shawarma. All of this and it came with a salad and unlimited fresh-baked pita bread. Dave and I could have easily split just this and had plenty to eat. The lamb shank was lovely too, but whoa, it was a lot of food.

Chicken and Lamb Shawarma

Meat Mazzawat- quite a spread!

Meat Mazzawat

The chicken and lamb shawarma were delicious and the fresh pita bread was addicting. I wasn't a huge fan of the dolmas (but I don't tend to be in general) and the veggie kibbee nayeh was a bit grainy for my taste, but for the most part it was all delicious. My favorite thing was a toss-up between the Baba Ghanoush (the roasted eggplant dip) and the Labne (the cream cheese/yogurty dip-- it's the white stuff with the olives to the left of the big meat dish). But honestly, there were so many dishes that it was hard to remember which was which. The lamb shank was fall-off-the-bone tender and delicately flavored, but by the time it (the main course) came out we were pretty much already completely full. It was a delicious meal (and the Meat Mazzawat was a fantastic deal). When you top it off with a complimentary slice of perfectly crisp but not-too-sweet Baklava, what more do need?