It's here, it's here, it's here!!!

We’ve got extra a lot-a lot to be thankful for this year.  I spent much of Thanksgiving Eve with Kayliana at Children’s Hospital.  She’d started limping again and we had seen our Pediatrician the day before.  Dr. B. wanted us to get more Xrays and lab work done.  It blows my mind that Kayli holds so still for Xrays – maybe she’s kind of freaked out by the process, the big camera thingy, the noise it makes, the hard weird bed thingy she has to lie still on, but she does it like a champ.  After Xrays, we went to the Lab where, sadly, the two nurses had a heck of a time finding Kayli’s wee little veins and had to poke her like crazy before successfully drawing blood. L Holding her down for that was no fun…but, in the end, all tests, Xrays, etc. came back fine and clear…INCLUDING the Xray from a couple of weeks ago on which they saw a cyst on her bone.  Turns out it was just a stupid shadow on the crappy Xray film.  Obviously, we’re VERY relieved that there’s nothing there, but we could’ve done without the expensive unnecessary stress!

 

In the end, Dr. B. thinks that Kayli’s limping may be from a hip/joint infection caused by a virus.  If Kayli continues limping for a week, we’re to give her Ibuprofen and let Dr. B know for further investigation, but thus far, she’s not been gimpy at all.  Thank goodness!

 

With our good news and relief, we went into Thursday extra grateful and had a really nice Thanksgiving.  We hosted my parents, brothers and sister-in-law.  I must say (completely biased here), I thought the food was quite delicious this year!

 

After everyone had left, we curled up with the kiddos and watched Home Alone to kick off my very, very, VERY favorite time of the year!  Thanksgiving is always special and I do try to savor the moments it creates, but for me I celebrate it with the anticipation of what is to come!  Friday is “Christmas Decorating Day,” and we had a lot of fun this year especially since it was our first time decking the halls of this house. We decorated, drank hot cocoa, listened to Christmas music (since I’m “officially” allowed to now, it will be on 24-7 through Christmas) and stayed in pajamas until late in the afternoon.  Despite the pouring rain, Mike and I (but especially Mike) even got the outside lights up.  We. Were. SOAKED.  And then the next two days were dry and gorgeous…oh well.  That’s just how dedicated we are to Christmas Decorating Day!

 

Kayli LOVES it all this year.  She walks into the living room, looks at the tree and sighs, “Oooh, pretty.”  When we’re driving in the car, even if a house only has one strand of twinkly lights she admires it with a “Pretty!”  And I have to say, we were really impressed with how well she helped hang ornaments.  Sure, they were a little clumped together – and obviously along the bottom part of the tree since that’s where she can reach, but overall she did a great job and was REALLY sad when there weren’t more ornaments to hang!

 

I’d gone to get the camera so that I could capture the “prettiness” on film when – low and beheld – Kayli was also admiring our décor but had, uh, dedecked…undecked herself (minus the red sash, of course).

Turkey Day spread

The table and family (minus my dad who took the picutre)

A nudey elf!

One of my favorite views -- and what the kids will see first thing Christmas morning!

Kayliana turns two!!

Today our baby girl turns two.  Not quite a baby, not totally a ‘big’ girl – she’s in that in-between called “toddlerhood.”  I know I’m biased, but I can honestly say that she is the cutest, most fun little two -year old.  She has so much personality and it’s just amazing to watch her as she’s grown into her own little identity.  What’s especially exciting is that she’s really, REALLY starting to talk more.  Yes, slippers are still “fwupees” and quite frankly, I hope they remain fwupees for a while yet, but hearing her say words, even sentences in her cute little voice is just beyond cool.  We’re not doing a big party this year – just a few separate small celebrations with close friends.  

And I am hoping to have Mia and her parents over some time soon so they, too, can join us in celebrating this little girl we all love so much.

Kayli's newest adventure!

I’m ever so behind in writing a post on Kayliana’s latest adventure: her first Xrays!  On Sunday morning, Kayli was running the loop (you know the kitchen-dining room-living room loop that is apparently designed for indoor track drills). We were in the kitchen when a sudden loud cry came from the living room.  Obviously, we weren’t there to witness what happened.  I don’t know if she tripped and fell, if she bonked into the coffee table, if she suddenly just crumpled to the floor – dunno; she was just hurt.  I picked her up, soothed her, she had a decent cry but not insanely long or anything, and then when I went to put her back down on the floor, she gave a shriek and started crying again.  At that point I noticed she wouldn’t put any weight down on her left leg.  We did the whole checking for swelling, bruises, toes wiggled fine thing, but she definitely couldn’t/wouldn’t walk on it.  After a bit, we decided to call the nurse line since this seemed like a problem that wasn’t going to go away.  Sure, enough, she recommended we come in to see the doctor.  Thankfully, there’s one office open on Sundays, so we won’t have quite the same hefty bill that the ER kindly sent us for her last ‘adventure.’

 

The doctor – an attractive woman with the nicest, smiliest eyes I’ve ever seen – seriously, she LOOKED like a Pediatrician – squeezed up Kayli’s left leg and, apparently, noticed a ‘hardness’ near the femur.  Ruh-roh.  That’s definitely the worst bone-leg situation to have as it means full on mega-cast if a cast is indeed needed.  I brought Kayli back to the Xray room.  We sat in the tiny waiting area across from a 9ish year-old boy and his dad.  I gave them a nod and asked, “What are you in for?”  (I’d like to think that I asked this in a gruff, The Godfather kinda-way but I probably was just boring and normal).  Turns out he’d fallen of a bar that he was swinging on and landed on his right wrist, but, as I found out with them, it wasn’t broken so he was sent home castless.

 

Kayli did great for her Xrays.  I thought for sure I’d have to hold her down (especially since she still won’t go on the examination bed thingy without having a total fit), but she did totally fine.  She layed there with her blankie, sucky her fingers, looking at (and talking about) the big Elmo poster on the wall.

 

Once the doctor got the Xrays, she did that sound that I just LOVE to hear from medical professionals, “Hmmm….hmpfh.  Weird….huh.”  All reassuring noises.  Not.

 

She brought me over and showed me the film where on one you could clearly see a large knob/bump sticking out of one of the bones. 

 

“I don’t love the look of that,” she said.  Yeah, me neither, I thought.  “It looks like maybe a cyst on the bone that’s possibly nothing – could’ve been there since she was born and we’d never know if we hadn’t done an Xray…and I don’t think it’s related to her injury this morning…but let me go check with one of my partners.”

 

She left the room and was gone for a while.  While she was away, Kayli wanted to get down and walk.  I decided to see what would happen and, sure enough, miraculously, she was walking WAY better.  She was still only walking on the toes of her left foot but definitely wasn’t showing signs of intense pain.

 

When the doctor came back in she still looked puzzled.  “Well, two other doctors looked at it with me and none of us can really figure out what’s going on.  But there’s definitely no huge noticeable breaks or fractures.  If I was being really conservative, I’d send you to Children’s for more in-depth Xrays, but we could just wait and see.  You’ll get a call in the next couple of days if there’s more follow-up needed.”  When I told her about Kayli walking around better she wanted to take another look at her.

 

Once again, Kayli walked like it wasn’t a big deal; she definitely had a limp, but it was nothing like before!  She even let the doctor squeeze and feel her leg without even a grimace.  In the end, the doctor was just as befuddled as I was.  She guessed that maybe Kayli had pulled a muscle and the hardness she felt was muscle spasms.  I heard her tell the nurse out in the hall, “Hmm! Yeah, that’s definitely not how I saw this ending.  I thought for sure we’d be putting her in a cast.” 

 

Then, as I sat in the room, putting Kayli’s pants back on her, I realized something: So, what’s this about a cyst on her bone?  It’s just a total coincidence?  Like, I’m supposed to just pretend that it isn’t there?!  I stuck my head out the door and asked the doctor pretty much that question.  And she pretty much – still looking a little confused – said, “Yep! It hasn’t caused any issues!” 

 

Hmmm.  Alrighty then.  Kayliana will turn 2 a week from today.  I think, you know, just out of curiosity, I might follow up with her pediatrician for her 2 year check-up.  “So, about this cyst on her bone that we’re just pretending we never saw…so, that’s cool, huh?  Right....?”

Halloween-y fun!

Zachula, the Dracula. Puppy Kayli and Civil War Soldier Matthew

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween! That’s right: WHILE I type this we’re in the midst of the sugar-frenzied fun times.  Mike just departed with the kiddos to go trick-or-treating with some of our new neighbor friends.  Meanwhile, I’m sipping a glass ‘o red, sneaking the occasional candy bar and also manning candy passing out duty.  (I also plan on filling out my ballot and voting when I’m done with this post). Is it weird that I’m getting all teary about this being our first Halloween here?! I also think it’s strange that – despite constantly knowing and expecting the doorbell to ring any moment – I jump about a foot and nearly pee my pants out of surprise every time it does.

 

Mike insisted that we get the full-size candy bars this year.  We distinctly remember doing that for our first Halloween at our old house.  It’s like he wants to make a good impression on the trick-or-treaters in the ‘hood.  I even said things like, “Tell your friends: we’re the COOL house!”  Anyway, our first trick-or-treating group tonight was a herd of pre-teenaged boys.  There were at least five of them.  I don’t know if it was the sight of the big candy bars, but they were the politest group of young men!  One handed me our newspaper that he picked up in the driveway and said all cheeky, “I’ll trade you your newspaper for a candy bar!”  Then, when I held out the bowl, instead of plowing in like crazy sugar-starved crazies, they all immediately started complimenting our decorations, our jack-o-lanterns and then, yes, our candy selection. After carefully – and patiently – making their choices, they called out numerous thank you’s as they walked away.  I heard one kid say, “Ahhh, yee-ah! We hit the jackpot with that one!”

 

Well, the last group of boys was not quite so polite and not all in costumes either.  I wish I had some brussel sprouts to drop in their bags instead.

 

Pictures of our people to come…(once Mike returns with the camera), but here's a few from last weekend's parties and Kayli's photo shoot.

kids say the darndest things!

The boys have had a couple of great lines lately:

 

With Matthew’s teacher living just down the street from us, he’s excited at the prospect of trick-or-treating at her house.  “I wonder what she passes out on Halloween…I sure hope she doesn’t pass out homework!!” (he nearly added his own drum bu-dum-dum riff at the end of that).

* * * * *

 

Zachary, the other day, while doing his reading practice next to me on the couch, suddenly leaned in really close and inspected my face. “What are all those lines on your forehead?” He asked.

 

“Those would be wrinkles.”

 

“Why do you have them?”

 

“Because I’m getting older and you get wrinkles as you get older.”  Then, feeling a tad defensive, I added, “You’re getting older too, you know.”

 

“What?!” he sqeeeked in alarm.

 

“It’s true, every day, you’re one day older.”

 

“I don’t believe you,” he retorted.

 

I explained that, you know, each day, you’re one day closer to your next birthday.  He pondered on this for a while, then came up to me in the kitchen, about twenty minutes later.  He wrapped his arms around me and said, “But I don’t WANT you to get old.  I want you to live forever.”

* * * * *

 

At church on Sunday, I was following Matthew in line for communion.  Because we sit in the back for Kayli’s sake, in what I call the “party room,” we are some of the last people to get to the front for Eucharist.  After receiving the Host (bread), we headed over to the chalice for the consecrated wine.  Apparently supply was getting really low and Mike, walking in front of Matthew, had been forced to finish it off (there was only a drop left for him).  So, Deacon Jack, put the cloth on top to cover the cup and stepped back a little.  Never having experienced this before, Matthew followed him.  Deacon Jack kind of shook his head and said quietly, “Sorry.”  I quickly whispered to Matthew that it was all gone, and rather loudly he exclaimed, “Darn!!”

* * * * *

 

I’m SO happy to report that sleep training bootcamp has paid off and Kayliana is sleeping SO much better (and therefore so are we)!  Thank you, Jesus!  Seriously, nearly three months of not-consistently decent sleep?!  I’d like to apologize to everyone that I came in contact with as I doubt I was neither competent nor pleasant. 

 

It seems that the solid sleep (and the fact that she’ll be two in a few weeks), has flipped the switch of talking and vocabulary in her brain.  Just within the last week, she’s really started talking.  Like, REALLY.  She’ll parrot what we say and for the most part is very clear and understandable.  Then, there’s the word slipper.

 

She insists (with some determination and aggression should you press her on it) that slippers are called, “Fwupee.”  Last night, I was in hysterics as I listened to Mike over and over trying to get her to say “slipper.”

 

“S-L-I-P-P-E-R.” (Not spelled out, just said, VERY slowly).

 

“Fwupee.”

 

“SLIPPER.”

 

“Fwupee.”

 

“SLI-PPER.”

 

“Fwupee.” 

 

This went on and on.  The best part was the look on her face and the tone in her voice.  She was looking at him like he was the biggest moron.  ‘Dad, what is your damage?!  I’m saying slipper!’

 

At one point he tried just, “Sli…sli…”

 

She humored him for a second and said, “Sli…fwupee!”

 

Matthew had “funjunjun” (fire engine).  Zachary, who didn’t say much until he turned two, and then when he did it was as clear as a little old English professor, insisted that yogurt was “gahonk” and breakfast was “brefext” for about four years.  So, if you ask me, Kayliana can go ahead and wear “fwupees” on her feet.

House-y Progress!

Early morning double rainbow -- taken from dining room window.

 

Early morning visitor -- see his baby antlers?!  He's not quite as impressive as Sir Hoofington -- the deer who always visited us on one of our camping trips this summer.  (Sir Hoof had a manly full rack, but this guy'll get there.)

 

The kitchen!

 

We finally got blinds up (and valance) in the kitchen and nook.

The powder room -- I call this color "Apricot Medley."  It is yet another custom color.  (I had a snaffoo trying to doctor up the really bright peachy-pink from the laundry room at the old house and basically turned into Peptobismol pink, but the paint dude at Lowe's was able to tone it and orange it down for me).

 

The family room!  Note the quilt on the back of the loveseat (it matches the new kitchen window valance): it was a gift from my honey and I refuse to share it with anyone!

Looking through the "cut-out" (as we call it).  The door on the right is the powder room.  The door frame on the left is the laundry room which leads out to the garage.

Crafti-wha??

A sleeping beast has been awoken from deep down inside of me.  I’m almost ashamed to admit it because I’ve denied its existence for so long now.  The beast is: Crafty.  As in craftiness, as in crafts.  As in artsy-fartsy making stuff that you could just buy for sometimes the same price if not less, but instead you MAKE for the joy of the process.  For years now, I’ve poo-pooed craftiness (particularly scrap-booking which, at one point, became the bane of my existence when I lamely attempted it).  It’s not that I don’t appreciate crafty-skills in others.  I admire them greatly!  I just never ever thought that I could qualify as crafty.  I even bragged about just how NON-crafty I was.   But I can’t deny it any longer.

 

Yes, the stupid-yet-wonderful time-sucking obsession that is a website called Pinterest is partially to blame.  It didn’t wake the beast, it’s just helped feed it.  Especially with settling into a new home in mind, Pinterest provides an endless supply of home improvement, “diy,” crafty projects.  A couple of my crafty ideas (particularly for the garden) have come from Pinterest.  But, if anything, looking on Pinterest and at other people’s creative ideas has encouraged me to come up with my own.  The juices are a-flowin’.  I mean, if everybody just puts ALL of their ideas on Pinterest, there will be no more original ideas!  I’ll admit I’ve even checked Pinterest to see if one of my craft plans was on there – I was thrilled that it turned up no hits.  Yes! Finally, I – the anti-crafty – came up with a do-it-yourself, crafty-craft that 368 people haven’t already “pinned” on to a Pinterest board.  Am I perhaps, somewhat original in this day and age of everything-is-already-somewher-online or in an app??   But my next thought was, if I do a good job with my craft, I WILL take a picture of it.  I WILL post it here, and then what if someone snags it to put on Pinterest??  OK, at that point, I’ll still just be so surprised with my own craftiness, I’d be honored and probably wouldn’t stop bragging about my ‘pinability.’  But, still, the whole thing: my new found love of certain craft projects, the amount of craft ideas out there, the amount of time one can spend looking at craft projects for your home on-line…the whole thing has kind of become obsessive and time-sucking, really. 

 

I’ve slowly been evolving into this craftiness but have been in denial.  I’ve painted furniture – the blackboard kitchen table has been a plan of mine for a long time (pre-Pinterest, thank ya very much).  Painting our last house in way more bold and bright colors than most people deem normal and appropriate.  The tile table and mosaic that the boys and I did a couple of years ago were probably my main gateway drug into the adult crafting world.  Before that, I’d dabbled in pottery painting (with a bit of a success, but that just wasn’t practical and was too expensive – which defeats the point of craftiness, if you ask me!).  I tried knitting and successfully knocked out a few scarves that were mediocre at best.  Back in my youth, my craftiness came out in the form of jewelry making.  Now, I’d say, my craftiness is definitely specific: I like crafts that can beautify my home, yard, or act as a nice (and doesn’t look like a 2 year old made it) accessory for me and/or others.  Quite frankly, I have all these plans for doing homemade craft-type Christmas gifts for people, but I just don’t know if I’m quite there yet.  I enjoy the fact that I have children though and can always give them credit (or blame!) if my attempt DOES look completely juvenile.  Or if it’s really bad, I might go so far as to say it was created and purchased from a blind and limbless craft-creating animal of some sort.  I’m sure those are out there.  I’ll look for some on-line.

 

The history of craftiness: 

Matthew's bday party last year -- note the sneaky craft lurking in the background.

 

Our mosaic table happily chillin' in its new home. (The deck underneath is now the same dark red as the vertical posts).

Regrets

I’ll be the first to tell you, that when it comes to public speaking, I think I’m pretty darn good.  It’s a bit of a gift.  Growing up doing musical theater, performing in choirs, participating in music competitions definitely helped my self-confidence when it comes to standing in front of a crowd.  I still get a little nervous but nothing uncontrollable.  Mike has even gotten quite natural in front of a group.  No, he’ll never be the ham that I am – and he better not! There’s no way I’m sharing too much of the spotlight – but considering that on our Engaged Encounter retreats he can share personal stories in front of 70 people, it is pretty impressive.

 

Last night, we got to go to Amara, our adoption agency, and share our story and answer questions at one of the Information nights.  This is the first thing that you do when considering adopting through Amara.  I was SO looking forward to it.  We even got to bring the kiddos – who THOROUGHLY enjoyed the play room, honestly it looked like 20 kids had played back there, but no, it was just our three. 

 

The social worker introduced us to the group --  probably 20 people – and we introduced the kids who then ran out of the room (literally) to get back to playing.  We shared our story – why we chose to adopt, why we went with an Open Adoption (continuing contact with the birth mom), what were some of our fears, what have the struggles been, the joys etc.  I feel like we did a decent job presenting the information.  We answered all the questions moderately well and thoroughly, but honestly, I just can’t shake the feeling that I blew it.  The second we walked out of the room I was full of regret: thinking of things that I said that I probably shouldn’t have and thinking of things that I’d wanted to say but forgot.  I was SO disappointed with how I did.  And, I’ll admit, with my healthy self-confidence, I’m not used to feeling that way after a public speaking sort of event. 

 

My two biggest regrets: I bragged WAY too much about how awesome Mia is.  We did try to put it in a “we know that this doesn’t always work out this way, but…” sort of way, but I still feel like I came off as all sorts of our-birth-mom-is-better-than-the-one-you’ll-get-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah! But it IS TRUE, we did luck out/get immensenly blessed with a birth mom who’s fun and pretty darn down-to-earth, put-together, etc.  But I certainly didn’t need to go on and on about her awesomeness as much as I did.

 

My second HUGE regret: I didn’t share my favorite story of pretty much all time.  The story that will permanently be etched in my memory, that I usually can’t tell without getting choked up.  That would be: the night we’d brought Kayliana home from the hospital, the boys sat in the rocking chair and held her, rocked her, and sang her lullabies.  (We even got a great photo of the moment – it’s framed and on the wall in the upstairs hallway).  Matthew looked up at me at me and said, “I like her MORE than love, like I don’t even know the word for it.”  I immediately wrote it down – not that I ever could’ve forgotten that moment.  But, yet, I forgot to share it last night! What’s wrong with me??!  How could I NOT think to share that with a group of people trying to decide whether or not they’re going to adopt a child??  Are you kidding me?!! ARGH. 

 

I suppose I could’ve told them that Kayliana is just like any other child – we love her like the boys (but also differently, just like you do with each individual child).  She is a perfectly ‘normal’ toddler…although she is interesting in how she expresses her rage.  Once, she tried to angrily throw my left butt cheek.  Yesterday, out of anger, she ANGRILY climbed into the washing machine.  Really?  You’re mad, so you’re going to climb into the washer?  Makes tons of sense.  Last night, for the 2^nd night in a row (thanks to the Ferber sleep techniques that we’ve been using), she slept through the night!!! But then has been nothing but cranky this morning – pushing me when I went into her room, she dumped her entire bowl of cereal on the floor and then smacked me on the head when I was down cleaning it up.  Deep breath.  Yep, we love her like she’s ours…because she is. 

 

We did have a pretty funny moment last night: the kids were out playing in the playroom and Kayli suddenly realized that we weren’t there.  We could hear her little voice, “Mommy?  Mommy?”  Not concerned, just curious as to my whereabouts.  The “mommy” got louder and then she stood in the doorway, “Mommy?”  And then she saw me, “Mommy!!!”  She came running into my arms.  We couldn’t have planned that any better, really.  I picked her up, sat her on my lap, she looked out at the crowd, smiled coyly and burped.  Yep, our little princess!

The fear of the unknown

This is a blog entry I don’t really want to write, but I’m hoping that writing about it – and mentally reliving it – will help me get over it.  I mean, I should.  Everything turned out fine, it’s just thinking about the five minutes of fear, panic and the unknown that are still gripped tightly around my heart whenever I think about it.

 

On Friday, while the boys were at school, Kayliana and I had a lovely playdate at Rebecca’s house.  With little to no traffic, our houses from door-to-door are about 30 minutes apart.  Kayli and I left her house shortly after 3pm in order to meet up with the boys around 4pm when their school bus arrives.  Nearly an hour – plenty of time – especially considering that we can bypass most of the traffic in the carpool lane.  Traffic. Was. Horrible.  At 3:50 I wasn’t even off the freeway yet.  I usually leave my house at 3:50 to walk the 3 minutes to the bus stop.  I tried to not panic, I really did (try to not to).

 

Just on Wednesday, I’d let the boys walk home alone for the first time ever.  On Wednesdays, the boys have early dismissal and I have to wake Kayli from her nap for the afternoon bus stop.  So, I’d prepped the boys that we’d just let them handle it and see how it goes.  Walking home from the bus solo?!  You’dve thought that I told them we were heading to Disneyland this was so exciting.

 

Well, of course, on Wednesday, a good five minutes before they would’ve started walking up the hill towards home, I started pacing outside.  I sorta pretended to do yardwork, but basically, every 30 seconds, I’d decide to wander out to the sidewalk, and then across the street to, you know, just look down the hill. Just checking things out down the street.  Just seeing what’s a happenin’.  The funniest part is that I needn’t have bothered to WATCH for them.  I could hear them coming – talking and laughing – well before I could see them.  (Apparently, they were discussing with the neighbor boy Roman, what they would do if suddenly a bad guy appeared and tried to ‘steal’ them.  They’d scream and yell and kick him and punch him – in the privates even! – and find a house with a swimming pool in the front yard – these don’t exist as far as I know – and push him off the diving board.  Yes, hilarious!)

 

So, they’d made it home safely from the bus stop.  I’d even had them practice what they’d do if – for some reason – I wasn’t home.  They’d practiced opening the lockbox thingy where our extra key is and letting themselves in.  Considering that we had JUST gone through a dress rehearsal of all this, one would think I wouldn’t be that stressed on Friday afternoon upon realizing that I wasn’t going to make it.   The thing that freaked me out the most was: how would they handle it?!  I certainly didn’t know that I wasn’t going to be there in time, so I hadn’t prepared them for that.  So imaging them looking around for me, confused that I wasn’t at the bus stop, wondering where I was, etc. was sorta breaking my heart.  I just didn’t want THEM to be scared – especially once they walked all the way home and – for the first time ever in their lives – arrived to an empty house.

 

Let’s just say, the second I got off the freeway and through traffic, I SPED home. Up, up, up the twisty windy hugenormous hill to our house.  A quick glance down the street confirmed that – as far as I could tell – no one was at the bus stop anymore – I’d missed its arrival by nearly 15 minutes. I turned up the street and saw a mom – who I haven’t met yet – walking with her two toddler/preschool boys.  I’m sure she glared at me as I sped past and floored it over the speed bumps.  I pounded the garage door opener until the door SO SLOWLY – it seemed – began to open.   Oh and did I mention, that for the last 20 minutes of our bumper-to-bumper, stop and go drive, Kayli’d been yelling her head off, totally sick of being in the car?  Right.  I threw on the parking break, ran up the stairs and flung the door open, calling to the boys, trying to hide the panic in my voice.  I’d pictured them calmly walking to the door all, “Uh, hi, mom.” Like no big deal and why the heck was I freaking out.

 

But they weren’t home.

 

This was the one thing that I’d REALLY tried to not let play through in my head.  I kept telling myself, we’ve practiced this, they’ll just let themselves in, be a little confused that I’m not there, and most likely go a little crazy with the freedom and find my hidden chocolate stash and eat it all in the few minutes they’re home without me (that’s what I would’ve done as a kid!)…I tried to not think about how I’d react if they weren’t home. 

 

Well, they weren’t.  That’s when I finally just let go and gave in – a wee bit – to the real panic.  The thing is, I KNEW they were fine.  I figured that another neighbor had seen that I wasn’t at the bus stop and had offered to just have them over.  The problem was, I still don’t have any phone numbers, I didn’t know where they were, and I felt like the worst mom in the world.  Maybe people are reading this thinking that I overreacted. But those few minutes of having NO idea where my young kids are just kinda pushed me over the edge. 

 

So, I’m crying, I jump back in the car and race down the hill.  I see the mom again, still out walking her little kiddos (like a GOOD mom who WALKS WITH her children).  I put down my window and yell, “The school bus kids already went by right?!”  I knew the answer.  It was 15 minutes passed the time the bus usually arrives.  I was just hoping.  She’d seen me walking with the boys before; maybe she’d offer some info.  She smiled and said, “Yeah, they all went by a while ago.” 

 

I drove down the hill and turned down the street towards the bus stop thinking that maybe they were waiting for me there (around the corner where I couldn’t see them).  Nope.

 

I drove back up the street and parked in front of Roman’s house. Now sobbing.  By this point, the mom with her two kiddos happened to be right in front of Roman’s house.  I said, “Hi, sorry, I’m Jenny.  I’m kinda freaking out [duh] ‘cuz there was traffic and I wasn’t at the bus stop and my boys don’t know where I am and I don’t know where they are and I’m hoping they’re here….” By this point, Kayli is also screaming her head off. 

 

“OK, OK,” the mom said kindly and calmly, “We’ll find them.” One of her boys asked me what they looked like.  Um, wow.  What little 3 or 4 year old knows to ask that in this scenario?!  I think I said, “They’re 6 and 9” as I kinda ran passed them towards the door.  She and her boys went over to the open window of our minivan to try to visit with Kayli and calm her down – since, ya know – mommy’s lost it!

 

I should’ve known that they were at Roman’s, and again, just like knowing that they were OK, deep down, I figured – I hoped – they were.  But it was the same thing with the house.  I KNEW they’d be there and then the fact that they weren’t started the spiral of panic.  So, I was already at the: Oh. My. God. What will I do if they’re not here?!!  Where will they be?  How will I find them? place.  I really do – typically – pride myself on remaining cool in an emergency situation, but there’s something about that whole Mama Bear not knowing where your cubs are thing, that just made me kinda – OK, TOTALLY – lose it.

 

I waited for the longest minute (it was probably like 20 seconds) of my life until someone came to the door to answer my urgent knock…it was Roman’s mom, her 3 year old, her 5 year old, Roman AND Matthew and Zach.  I’m sure it was somewhat comical, really.  They fling open the door and I’m already crying and they’re kind of all staring at me like, “Uhhhhh, what happened to you?!”  As if I’m just picking them up from a regularly scheduled playdate.  But the boys, while they’ve played with Roman, haven’t played AT his house.  I’m friendly with his mom at the bus stop, but I can’t even remember her name and I don’t have her phone number, so it’s not like we’ve done this a million times.

 

Her eyes started to water as soon as she saw me, and she said, “Oh no! Please don’t cry.  It’s OK.  They’re OK.  Roman walked them home and they couldn’t get your front door open, so they came here and told me that their mom wasn’t home.  So, we were just going to have snack.”  I kinda nod and blubber and mutter some stuff about traffic and I just didn’t know where they were and I was sorry and, well, traffic was just so bad.  (Kinda like I was crying BECAUSE of the traffic). 

 

“They can always come here.  I’m always home.”  I thank her and tell her, the same and that well, gosh, I really should get her phone number! I follow the boys to the car who – really were just bummed not to get to play longer at Roman’s – but DO make sure to tell me that “that was scary” that they didn’t know where I was. 

 

As the boys get in the car, I sorta-properly introduce myself (through my tear-drenched, cry-gasping breaths) to the mom who’s been hanging out with Kayli this whole time.  We chat briefly – though I’m not entirely sure what we talk about.  I do know that I said something like, “Well, this is an awesome first impression that you’re getting of me.  But at least I’ll just get more awesome from here.  I’m actually really fun…” Yeah, or something like that. I think the last thing I said was, “I’m going to go have a glass of wine.”  (Which, really, is how I sign off from most conversations, right?)

 

Anyway, the boys explained to me more of what happened and how they just COULDN”T get the key to open the front door.  I told them that, it’s fine what they did, going to Roman’s house.  But if – for whatever reason – something like that scenario happened again – I’d want them to get the mom’s help and write me a note to stick on the door telling me, you know, where I can find them.  Just so, you know, I don’t totally panic, when they aren’t in the safety of our home like I think they’re going to be.

 

Would you have panicked? Did I totally overreact?  Probably yes and definitely yes.

Mountain view...?

I’m proud of us! We’re campers!!  Yes, we’ve camped for a few years now, but never by ourselves – just our wee fam ‘o five.  We boldly went where we’d never gone before: camping without the security blanket of our bff’s who are camping pro’s and who, I know, always got us covered should we forget something vital.  So, summoning all courage (and all our camping accoutrement), we left Friday afternoon for Seaquest State Park – conveninently located near Mt. St. Helen’s (and only two miles from the visitor center). 

 

The first ruh-roh, when we arrived was the small printed out sign that said, “No campfires allowed.” WHAT?! Are you stinkin’ kidding me?!! This was part of the reason we WENT to Seaquest. It was one of the state parks that didn’t have a burn ban – as of Wednesday when I called.  Turns out, as of Thursday, it too had a burn ban.  We tried to had our frustration (seeing as I’d even told the state park lady on the phone, that we HAD to have a campfire for s’mores purposes and our children just wouldn’t consider it camping without that).

 

Ruh-roh number two was the sprinkling, smattering of rain that commenced as we erected the tent. Awesome.  So, we can’t have a fire because, you know, the conditions are too dry, but we have to deal with rain?!  Mike was quick to put up a handy-dandy tarp covering over our picnic table (which we moved to cover the taunting yet-unusable and tripping-hazard fire pit).  And then, of course, once our rain cover was up, it didn’t sprinkle at all after that.

 

Ruh-roh number three: um, yeah, so we went to the visitor’s center on Saturday morning, which was great.  When we got to the end of the exhibit there was a sign in front of the window with a little diagram complete with arrow and “Mt. St. Helens, 30 miles away.” Um, what?!  I thought, we were camping right next to the mountain and seeing as we were 2 miles from the visitor center, I figured we must be close.  Then, as I looked out the window, I thought, “My gosh! Maybe it’s one of those things that, when you’re a kid everything seems SO huge, but wow! Mt. St. Helen’s just looks like the rest of the foothills.  It’s really not much bigger than the other hills over there.”  We pointed out the biggest hill to the boys and ‘oohed and ahhed’ at how small it was compared to how big it must’ve appeared BEFORE the 1980 eruption. Then we departed and did a mile hike around the wetlands.

 

So, it wasn’t until the NEXT day, shortly before we departed, that we realized we hadn’t ACTUALLY even SEEN Mt. St. Helens.  (Oh, what people must’ve thought of us, as we showed our children the small mound in the distance and told them it was the volcano!).  I decided that we should drive out a little ways, so that we could at least get a VIEW of the mountain.  As we headed down the highway (in the opposite direction of the freeway – where we needed to go for heading home), we kept trying to catch glimpses of the infamous volcano.  Finally after about 20 minutes, we saw a “viewpoint” sign.  Mike quickly pulled off the highway and we followed the signs which lead us to…a hiking trail…which (had we taken it) would have taken us to a viewpoint of…a sediment dam.  Seriously?  A view of a wall that blocks mud?? Awesome. We turned around and headed for home, totally mountain-viewless. Poop.

 

I kinda feel like the biggest moron and pretty lame that here I thought we were camping right by the mountain, then thought we’d seen the mountain and actually never had…ever.  (Turns out the smoke from the fires in Eastern WA was providing a big enough haze that blocked our view).

 

Anyway, aside from not actually seeing Mt. St. Helens (other than at the Visitor Center in film and photo), we had a very good camping trip, AND the campground hosts showed up right after dinner on Saturday evening to tell us that we COULD have a campfire that night – woohoo!  The boys went and scavenged wood from vacant campsite firepits.  Apparently Zach even went into an occupied site and started to steal their wood scraps (the people said it was fine once Mike intervened and apologized). I pictured the boys covered in soot and, with British accents saying, “Please, sir, just a bit ‘o wood to build a fire to keep the chill out of me bones.” 

 

We had s’mores, we had camping food (not the healthiest, but so delicious fare).  We had quality family time: charades, a hike, playing at the camp playground, playing catch, playing cards. We had outdoorsy-ness: fresh air, the kids played with countless sticks and LOVED having so many vacant sites to play in; we were woken up by a freakishly loud owl.  We made camping memories…and all by ourselves!