Life Moving Forward

It's been over six months since I've posted. I suppose in the blogosphere, fortymama is toast. But I've been feeling like picking it up again, so here I am. It's completely overwhelming to consider recounting everything  since July, and that also seems really boring, but allow me one look back.

I can't move forward without a nod to my sweet, sweet Palo. My first baby.  I love this picture. It intimately shows the tenderness and trust he was capable of. Traits that German Shepherds are known for with their families. But he wasn't perfect by any means. He was unpredictable around other dogs, and sometimes he scared people (although at times that came in handy). But he came through on the most important task of all: being trustworthy with our children. He survived twin toddlers without ever snapping, always just slowly rising on those aching joints and walking away when he was fed up with yet another pink sunhat.

This sensitive dog named after Pablo Neruda left this world on December 3rd. It's still hard to believe, he's been in my life for so long. His ashes are still at the vet. Yes, I've been procrastinating picking them up. But it's time. Time to hold them, honor him, then let them fly into the sea air.

Hurray, it's Summer! Or is it?

Yep, just another Northwest July day.

So...what's been happening this summer? Let's take a look, shall we?

In June, I went to Alaska on a ten day sales trip. (Which, is a very long time to be away from your children!)

I visited customers....

 caught up with friends....

and saw beautiful scenery: this is outside of Palmer, just off the Parks Hwy.

We enjoyed the local wildlife: this Northern Hoarder was spotted in Fairbanks.

Then, our granddaughters arrived from New Mexico. It was wonderful to have them here.

 We enjoyed fun, summer beach days (noticed how we're bundled up?)

 Our annual Olympic Game Farm trip.

 The kids had a blast together.

Then it was off to Spokane with their cousins to see my parents.

This is Ana's favorite pose these days.

My brother & sister with my nephew & Ana on the Tilt-a-Whirl. I was impressed that my Dad took Jack, (it makes me totally queasy these days), but after the ride he was heard to say, "I don't need to do that ever again."

Spokane's Riverfront Park was our amusement rides, no nap, max out on sugar, late afternoon meltdown day. Actually, it was alot of fun!

My parents have property in Spokane and lots of animals and rusted out farm equipment. Apparently, that's what happens when you become a farmer, you have to keep everything for spare parts.


My Dad found his new calling....Cow Whisperer


and Chicken Whisperer....

and the Goose Whisperer.

So what more adventure does the summer have in store? 

 

Hopefully some sun, since we're going camping soon (are we crazy?)

It's Spring! And it's freakin cold!

 Hurray...it's Spring!

  But don't get too excited, it's still really cold

At least we have Easter...

dyeing eggs...

 stickers on our faces...

 eggs in our hands

 I kind of hate all the junk that PAAS puts in their eggs now: stickers, plastic shrink wrap, glitter (which, in theory is cool, but it makes a total mess), glue. We had one brown egg left so we dunked it in purple (then in orange, and green and purple again...remember, these are 3 year olds). But I love how it turned out.

This is a my favorite, the absolute anithesis of an Easter egg, but it looks so organic & natural, like a river rock. Boo did it at preschool in black watercolor. Too bad we have to eat it.

Playing with Balloons

One week ago Friday, we lost our 12 year old yellow lab, Dune. I told the kids that Daddy was taking Dune to heaven. I thought that would be a simple explanation, one that my parents had told me once, but it turned out to be a bit more complicated.

"Where's heaven?"

"In the sky, in the clouds"

"How are they gonna get there?"

"Ummm... well, he won't really be up there, it's his spirit really.."

"What's a spirit?"

"He needs a HELICOPTER!!!" my little boy interjected

"When is Dune coming back?"

"Honey, he's not coming back"

"He can play with Bear's balloon!" 

About a month ago, Bear had a helium balloon that we all watched float away, which inspired many discussions. Where was it? Would a bird bring it back? So now Dune gets to play with it. OK, pass the Kleenex!

"Are you a little sad Mommy?

"Yes"

Then my daughter gave me a big hug and said "Do you feel better now?"

I realized later that I never mentioned the "D" word. I skirted around it. Somehow saying "dead" sounded harsh and final, but the kids would only have the meaning that I put on it. I suppose I was avoiding too many questions of explaining what "dead" really means. A full explanation of it seemed too much, but the next day I said that "Dune died". Boo just repeated it..."he died?" And that was it...for now.

So now we have just one, nearly deaf dog padding around the house and a cat that is deathly afraid of toddlers.  I always wondered who would be left out of the merged-family menagerie we started out with (4 dogs-3 cats), and ironically, the animals that were mine (which seems odd to say now) are the ones still here. Dune will be missed tremendously, just like his sister Boston, and his brother Zeus, but life does go on. The kids make sure of it.

A New Decade

Just when you're about to go crazy, they sit up and do something like this.
(Blue food coloring in the tub, not tidy bowl)

I have exactly five minutes to write this post before I absolutely, positively MUST begin dinner. Why am I even posting? I've been reading other blogs and I'm feeling inspired and guilty that I've neglected mine so much.

So far the new year has begun like the last two, with kids coughing and sleepless nights. Not that I'm complaining, we begin this new decade potty trained (!), counting in Spanish and Mom actually completing her to do lists. It's day five and I'm on a roll. Resolutions? I'm considering them, but do they have to start on the first? I've decided they do not. So for now, I'll contemplate Weight Watchers, the pedometer, the art of listening, adding more romance to my life and jazzier clothes to my closet. I'll let you know when I start.

Holiday Report

I'm na hantum prince, I'm Bear!
TRANSLATION: I'm not a handsome prince, I'm Bear!
My kids are into playing pretend. Pirates, Princesses, Monstas. When you are a mother, your princess days are over. Now you are relegated to be a monster or frog, or, if you're lucky, the princess's older sister. (Just had to share this)

***

Christmas was great. There was no holiday let down that it didn't live up to my fantasies. The kids were into Santa. Santa was into coming. Cookies. Presents were opened at a pleasurable pace. Mess was somewhat contained. We played in our pajamas most of the day. I made killer pulled pork tacos. What more could you want?

***

Sunday was hectic preparing for a 16 person party on Monday while having houseguests, but everything turned out fine. Monday's gathering bubbled with hugs, laughter and chatter: kids playing, women cooking, men gathering around iPads. It was a long, satisfying, exhausting day. The next morning, the kids were able to see their cousins ride off into the overcast sky from our local airport. (a.k.a. strip of runway where you walk right up the plane.)

So now the family is gone, and tonight it's our turn. We've got a babysitter. Need I say more?

Happy New Year. 

An Authentic December

The kids had their first visit to Santa yesterday. Bear wanted nothing to do with him after thirty seconds, and Boo, having just pulled my carefully placed bow from her hair, decided she could look up from her candy cane long enough to smile.

In the past fourteen days I've shopped "Black Friday", had three days of birthday celebrations, including a party with eight-3 year olds, multiple cupcakes, a visit from my stepdaughter and her boyfriend, a cheesecake, a five day visit from my best friend, two more birthday cakes and our company's Christmas party. It's been crowded, crazy, filling, fun, decadent, wonderful, yummy, festive...pretty much in that order. And there's no let up, starting next weekend we'll have more family visiting until after Christmas.

By now I know the scenario.

The planning: I'm the warm hearted and excited hostess. Ready to welcome all into our house with freshly made beds, flowers & chocolates.

The reality: The housecleaning, the laundry, overwhelming guilt as your children watch TV so you can accomplish these things. Making beds at 10:00 p.m. the night before, promising that next time I'll have the flowers and chocolates. Hostess facade completely crumbled.

But after many late night conversations over cozy glasses of Bailey's, and enjoying the kids re-bonding with their long distance family members, I settle into the chaos. It is a skill I am perfecting. It's okay if someone gets cranky. Isn't that what families do? We get cranky, make memorable remarks, and share things that an average houseguest doesn't...our realness. So here's to authentic holiday experiences.

At it Again...

---Boo just called down from her room. (She usually has a litany of requests after I put her to bed: potty, cold feet, a blanket fix.) Now it's, "Mommy, I have a booger". I really, really, really don't want to go up there. I can't believe I just told her to "wipe it on the carpet". Hmmm, probably not the best response....I think I'm getting desperate. OK, ok, I'm going up to get her a Kleenex!

--Back again, both kid and carpet are clean. Now, where was I?

The craft bug is biting me again. Actually, this is a project that I've been working on for a year now, but it was put on the back burner while I played PTA mom. Now that this volunteer project from hell is almost over (notice the word "almost"), I can get back to my own stuff and try to get something done by Christmas.

I'm creating a felt name book for each of the kids, each page will have a letter and a picture from their name.

No letters, yet, but here's sneak peek...I'll post better pictures once it's finished.

Bikes

I love sharing these photos of the kids with their best friend, K. The kids love their bikes, we've even started riding at the local BMX track. And when I say 'we', I mean the whole family! M says, "It's surreal that I'm riding bikes with three* year olds!". It's true, they ride so fast and go down these big hills that you forget their age.

(Technically, they're actually still two until early December, so it's even more amazing.)

Life Busy, More Later

My poor blog has gone by the wayside. Between houseguests, business guests and one pesky volunteer project that just won't end, life has been busy. For now, you'll just have to settle for picures.


Digging a hole with Dad (I suppose that's obvious!)


Ready to be a flagger!


Fresh from a haircut from Big Sister, V. Think he's ready for the Disney channel?


One of our granddaughters, with V's dog "Stewie"


Posing in a tree



Another free haircut!

Virtual Fridge

Boo is always coming home with artwork. Not that Bear doesn't paint, but every day, Boo comes home with 2 - 3 paintings she has done at her school. She seems to have an eye for composition and color. Am I a little biased? Nah. I thought I would kick off our first "Virtual Fridge" with one of her recent projects (one of my faves).

Safeway...aaaargh!

C'mon, I spent eight bucks. Do I really need all this paper?

P's & Eeews

Contrary to my last post, we are enjoying a bit of Indian Summer. I'm savoring these last few sunny, long shadowed afternoons--riding bikes, climbing, swinging, peeing...yes, peeing. It happens everywhere these days. Bear just finished his first week being diaper free and he's doing great! He always tells me when he has to go: right after I strap him into his car seat, or in the shopping cart, or as we enter the playground. Never before an activity, always during.

There’s a multitude of things I had no clue about before children, poop and pee are two of them. Especially how much more of it there is now that they're out of diapers. When I excitedly bought the sweet little potty chair at Target, all I heard was the siren song of "potty trained". However, between diapers and potty trained there's a lot of pee: on carpet, in the pants, not to mention the dumping, splashing and cleaning of that sweet little potty chair; and when your kids decide to help by carrying it to the toilet (more splashing, more rinsing, more carpet cleaning). Then there's the poop: in the pants, on the hands, on the floor (when it falls out of the underpants they've removed cause they're ‘poopy’). I can only be grateful they've never painted the walls with it.

My "aha" moment was when Boo yelled, "Mama! Poop on the table!" and I realized that I wasn't even phased to see little brown nuggets on the coffee table. (Future houseguests: I do sanitize things, usually before you arrive.)

In spite of my griping, I’m so happy that we’re moving out diapers and into our next phase. These kids move forward so quickly, I know all of this poop & pee will soon become a distant memory. But I may never want any yellow or brown in our home décor again.

A Reluctant Welcome

The first day of Fall. We're enjoying an Indian Summer, an entire one day of it. No worries, I'm not feeling as bad as this song suggests, but I thought some of the lyrics here were fitting for an Autumn that is here too soon.

(Artist: Hawksley Workman. I heard this on "The Vinyl Cafe" last weekend and was struck by his real-ness.)

I'm sorry that I haven't posted much lately, I'm currently bogged down with a volunteer project that is consuming every evening. I actually added a new label called "Volunteering" since I'm sure I'll be writing more on the topic, but I'm thinking that maybe I should have called it "Overcommitting" or "Sucka".

WORD

This morning I received a text from a friend asking what "word" means. No, I don't mean the actual word "word". I mean the slang term "word".

I told her I thought it meant..."ya, I know what you mean" a term of agreement. The truth is, I"m only guessing based on my obsessive viewing of "The Wire", where "word" and "true dat" and "mothaf***er" are mumbled every 10 seconds or so.

"Oh, god am I totally old that I don't know what this means?" she texted. "What's worse, is he's my age!" I mentioned this to M and he said "Word, bullshit, that's not a slang". For the record, so all of us over 40 can keep up, here is the official "googled" definition of WORD


Word: It is short for saying "you have my word". Instead of saying "you have my word" you simply say "word."
For example: "I did not check out that girl. You have my word." instead you would say, "I did not check out that girl. Word."

It is the absolute truth, the authoritative word. "What you are saying is absolutely true."

My First Best Friend

This week I received a Facebook 'friend' request from a girl who was my absolute bestest friend in grade school. Her initial message was really an inquiry....asking my maiden name, did I go to St. B's, etc... I was so excited to hear from her that I immediately responded with a lengthy, two paragraph email, giving her the highlights of my life. (As if you can do that in two paragraphs and email emoticons.)

We enjoyed years of young girl best friendness: sleep overs, passing notes, prank calls, imitating Ann & Nancy Wilson (you know, the band Heart), Disco roller skating, swooning over the Bay City Rollers and writing screenplays with 70s celebs like John Travolta and Leif Garrett. As we grew older, our friendship was occasionally challenged: she made out with a guy I had a crush on for over a year, but it turned out OK since I got together with a guy I had a crush on during the years before that. (Ahem, small school, you couldn't be too choosy)

We broke off our friendship in ninth grade, she stayed on the straight and narrow and I became a party girl (not necessarily a good thing). When I think back now to our last fight, I can't even remember the details of what happened. I only remember her pain, yelling how much she had trusted me, and my adolescent way of shrugging it off while dying inside. I almost want to ask her what she remembers...but I'm chicken, since I was probably a total jerk.

We'll see what happens, she's already responded back to me,and I know I'll send her at least another paragraph or two. It's refreshing to actually get a meaningful email from someone on Facebook. And who knows? Maybe I'll even get the courage to ask her why we broke up, and maybe I'll share it, maybe not. ;-)

Moonlight Once More

I didn't exactly hate this tree, but I began resenting it...a lot. It blocked the sun in the morning, in the afternoon and even the moonlight. I would spend the day at work, anxious to come home and enjoy the sun, only to wind up freezing in our backyard. (Where we live, there are only a handful of days where shade feels good.) At first, M. & I talked about limbing it up, we didn't want to be rash and cut it down. But day after day, I watched the tree, it's long limbs reaching over our roof, stretching to the fenceline while our yard stayed deep in it's shadow. The idea grew in my mind...silently, guiltily. When a friend doing a backyard design for us asked, "How attached are you to that tree?", I nearly kissed him. So as the day approached, I felt some guilt, but I was excited. Finally, some sun! But I never expected it to be such a carnage. I have to admit, as I watched the poor tree denuded and it's limbs fed into the grinding maw of the chipper I wondered if we made the right decision.



Unfortunately, I wasn't able to see the kids’ reaction when they came home, but M. did. They were shocked and upset. They wondered why the 'tree broke'. So, in the tradition of parenthood, I made up a story about how the tree was old so we had to take it down. Then I told them about all the flowers and veggies we'll grow in our garden next year while I watched the twilight moon rise through the window. It's so nice to have moonlight again.