HAIR

I’m weird.  I’m really weird about hair – especially my hair.  But also hair in general.  Hair, once off the head, disgusts me…like irrationally grosses me out and kind of freaks me out.  But, for now, let’s talk about the hair on my head.  I’m fairly certain I think about my hair way more than is normal or necessary.  For a while now – about nine years – I have had short hair.  I have thick, naturally curly hair and, for whatever reason, once it gets “long” (for me – which is like just below my chin) it starts to drive me nuts and I chop it off again as quickly as possible.  I have, in the past, come from a hair cut that I wasn’t happy with and took scissors myself and went to town.  I LOVE short hair on women and I spend an unhealthy amount of time google-searching, bing-image perusing, Pinteresting “short curly hair,” “curly pixie haircut,” “curly short hairstyles 2013…” You get.  You name it; I’ve searched it. 

The other weird thing about me and my hair – especially short hair – is that while I love it and think I look better with a short, sassy ‘do I also have what I like to call “short hair low self-esteem.”  This can be traced back to my glory days of 7^th grade (terrible, awful 7^th grade) when I didn’t understand thick, curly hair yet.  I didn’t know how to use good product to keep the frizz down and I had a not so good short haircut.  Like it was a border-line old lady short hair cut and I was in the throes and woes of awkward adolescence.  My hair cut was such that, one of the, mmm, probably 50 year old gals, who worked at the middle school, complimented me nonstop, asked where I’d gotten it cut and came in to work a few days later with a carbon copy cut. Crap.

My relationship to my hair can be traced back to those awkward days and also hearing the (at the time) “mean girls” make fun of me.  I was chubby, I had acne, and when all the other girls had long straight hair, I had a short, poofy coif.  Another “friend” referred to me as (and I perfectly word-for-word quote because I’ll never forget it) an “egg on toothpicks.”  So, essentially, while I think I look better with short hair, I still constantly question and am plagued with self-doubt as I look around at the moms at the bus stop (all with their long, straight hair and also all tall and thin…and gorgeous), I wonder, “Do I look like an egg on toothpicks with a poofy old lady frizzy ‘fro on my head?”  Honestly.  These are the thoughts.

Now, for nearly two years, I’ve been going to a new salon where the owner, Karly, TOTALLY knows curly hair.  She’s magical.  I’m a huge fan.  As I’ve said, my hair has been short-ish for nine years.  Last summer, it was closer to my chin, -- the angled curly bob look that I’d rocked for a few years.  I decided to take it even shorter.  But another problem I have is: I do love change.  When I get my haircut I want it to look like I’ve gotten a haircut.  I wish my hair grew CRAZY fast so that every single time I got a haircut it would look really different.  I don’t grow out my hair to have longer hair.  I grow out my hair so I can chop it off again.

Well, this past spring, I got my shortest ‘do yet.  But pretty soon, I started to feel antsy (again) about having short hair. It also didn’t help that we were coaching Matthew’s baseball team and I didn’t feel like the haircut looked good under the baseball hat everyone saw me in several times a week. Karly suggested we grow it out – like REALLY do it – just to see if maybe I like longer hair again.  For a change.  I’ve also always wanted to have long enough hair to donate for cancer patient wigs (this requires cutting off at minimum 8 inches in a pony tail).  I’ve had a few friends do it and I’ve always wanted to.  Karly even pointed out that if I was willing to cut it SUPER short, then 8 inches isn’t necessarily CRAZY long hair.  The thought of cutting it SUPER short gets me so excited.  I can’t wait…and yet, again, I get plagued with my self-doubt: “I’m young(ish) now.  Shouldn’t I have long hair while I’m young? Old ladies have short hair.  I’ve got the rest of my life to have short hair…but I love having short hair.  I feel sassy and fun.  When my hair gets longer I actually feel kind of frumpy and mleh….but do I DESERVE short hair?!  Am I thin and spunky enough to pull off a sassy, maybe even edgier short hair cut so that it doesn’t look like an old lady ‘do…but I should really grow it out….but it takes so freakin’ long to get long…but I really just want to chop it off already…but short hair doesn’t look as good under hats and I do love hats….but should you really base your haircut on how it will look under hats…but can’t I just commit myself to growing it out for donation?  I mean, in the big picture, growing it out for two years isn’t THAT long of a time….EVERYONE has long hair, don’t I want to fit in…but I want short hair…but….”  Do you see what I mean when I say I think WAY more about my hair than is normal?  I mean, I can even write a whole blog about it!

And this is just how I feel about my hair.  I haven’t even delved into the commentary that I get from others.  While Mike has been supportive and is always complimentary about my short hair, I know for a fact that he does prefer longer hair (as most men do).  So, then I’m like, ‘well, shoot, I know that my hubby would prefer me a different way….’  Then there’s my mom.  Ahh, mom.  She was the one that initiated my short hair middle school days that will forever live in my mind in infamy and regret.  She had my best interest at heart, obviously.  And I think she, too, really didn’t have a good grasp on hair product and care for my super thick curls.  I mean, it took me nearly thirty years to figure it out!  She’s also made it abundantly clear that she thinks I look much better in short hair.  When I was discussing with her last week this plan to grow it out but that I struggle with it because I do think I look better with shorter hair, she interejected, “You can just pull it up all the time.  You don’t look very good with long hair.”  Oh.  I see.  I thought I looked BETTER with short hair; I didn’t realize that I looked BAD with long hair.  Oye vey.

So, here we are.  I went to Karly for a hair cut/trim last week convinced that I was going to throw in the towel (after only a few months of attempting to grow my hair).  I was ready to just say, “Forget it.  Take it the shortest it’s ever been.” But she talked me out of it.  She encouraged me to just try a little longer.  She did shape it and give it more style so I don’t feel so blah about it…but…but…my next hair cut is November 26^th and I’m already thinking and wondering – way too much – about what I should do to my do.  I really don’t have a lot of hope in myself in this whole ‘I’ll grow it out for two years’ plan.  I just really don’t think I can do it.  But then, am I being selfish?  I mean, people going through Chemo would love my thick hair! But it is, still technically, my hair so shouldn’t I wear it the way I want it?  But then, can I pull it off?  Plus, longer hair takes longer to style.  I want my long hair-styling time for Kayliana now.  She can be the one with long hair.  Yeah, I’m totally chopping it off…or maybe I won’t…but…ugh.

The facts: Long hair Jenny (so youthful, so free)

 

Medium length-haired Jenny

 

Short, sassy haired Jenny (yet 'mature' = old??!)

 

This is what a nerd I am about this: I would appreciate your input and opinions!!

Life, man. Life.

It’s crazy talk that it’s already October!  The weather here has been awfully fitting for the season – cold, rainy, windy – but there’s still a part of me that is maybe stuck back in summer wanting more days of warmth and sunshine and the chance to get more projects done outside.  Oh well!  I’m also happy to be wearing sweaters and scarves and tall boots and drinking more tea and eating soup and anything pumpkin or squash-themed!  (Zachary, on the other hand, cries when I make soup and questions my love, and is definitely NOT thrilled with food this time of year).

This weekend was insanely stormy and yesterday brought endless rain and high winds.  I had my first music class of the year at a new Montessori school like I’ve lined up.  Kayli and I left plenty early to drive up to my parents’ place (where she would hang while I went to teach).  While driving we came across not a puddle, nay, but essentially a small lake, that was smack dab in the middle of my lane.  I had no choice but to drive through it.  I’m sad to admit that the first words out of my mouth were of the rather colorful language persuasion and THEN after that I switched to praying (sorry, God).  Thankfully, Kayli didn’t repeat my words (I’m sure they’ll randomly be said sometime when least optimal….like she’ll loudly proclaim it during church), but she did say afterwards, “Woah, enormous car wash!”

 

My first days back at teaching are always a honeymoon stage.  I was so happy to be back at it and these kids were so freakishly cute and well-behaved…of course, I have done this long enough, that I know that will likely change in the weeks ahead as they get more comfortable.  But one little boy…oh. My. Goodness.  I want to bring him home and put him on my shelf he was so stinkin’ cute.  He was about three years old and was wearing a pair of corduroy pants. I’d noticed that they looked a little big and loose on him when we were up dancing for our first movement song.  Afterwards, once sitting back down on the floor in our circle, I did a double take when I glanced over at him.  There he was just happily chillin’, sitting on the floor in his little blue striped underwear.  His pants were all the way down around his mid-thigh region and he couldn’t care less…or didn’t even notice…and no one else did either.  When we stood back up for our next movement song, I made sure he got them pulled up, obviously, but the thought of him just chillaxin’ in his ‘roos in music class cracks me up. 

I’ve spent more time this year – than any other – trying to line up additional classes.  I called 27 Montessori schools (and either left messages or was politely turned down – either they already have a music enrichment program or they don’t have the space for one, etc.).  I successfully landed this one new one and also had my same school from last year on the schedule…only to find out that the school that I was returning to can’t actually have me right now (they’ve been moving locations and a bunch of stuff is just up  in the air for them).  My plan for later this week is to a.) lock Kayli and I at home and potty train (a plan in which, I’ll admit, I’m not very optimistic seeing as she seems pretty darn stubborn and that she WILL be the one kid heading to kindergarten in three years in diapers) and b.) call every library within a twenty mile radius (and that’s quite a few, mind you) and try to line up some gigs there. 

So, yesterday, I had my first day back at work, my one whopping music class.  THIRTY whole minutes of work and after getting home to Mike and the kids I was questioning everything.  How do families do this when both parents work full time?  Granted yesterday was a little extra crazy – it was my first class, Mike has a deadline for work and is really stressed out, the weather made traffic so bad for Mike that I had to rush home to be sure one of us was at the bus stop for the boys and THEN I had to drive back up to get Kayli from Mom and Dad (so I had probably an extra hour of driving), both boys had had a rough day at school so they were a hot mess, plus Mondays – now that we’re into the school routine – is big homework night.  The packets come home and we have everything for the week which is nice but also a little overwhelming.  Anyway, I HAD rocked and gotten dinner going in the crockpot so at least I didn’t have to come home at 6pm and make food.  But I felt like a failure.  A failure as a ‘working’ parent (my whole WHOPPING THIRTY minutes of work) and a failure as a mostly-at-home parent.  Lately, because I DON’T have music classes, I’ve been able to be home during the day to get dinner at least prepped, if not made, so that the short window after school of homework, dinner, playtime, family time, showers, bedtime, etc. isn’t quite so chaotic, but all I could think yesterday was: How do people do this?!  And how will I do this???  Especially as the kids get older and homework gets harder and there’s more of it.  Matthew’s already struggling to get it done as it is…and for crying out loud I struggle with some of his math and he’s only in fourth grade!  How are we going to do this?!  (When these panicky thoughts really started to freak my freak I realized that it was well after 5pm, so pouring that glass of wine DID take the edge off a little, but still…still!).  How ARE we going to do this?  It’s not even basketball season (for Zachary) or baseball season (for Matthew)…yet.  We’re not doing swim lessons…yet.  We don’t have three kids with homework…yet.  We don’t even have a dog who needs to be walked...yet.  How, pray-tell, do people do this?  I need to do some research. 

 

But this is life, man.  I need to get on board.  I need to figure this thing out.  In the meantime, I’ll do what I know to do: be selfish and take care of myself so that I HAVE something to give to everyone else.  I’ll go to Spin at the gym, get myself a sassy short haircut (and give up on this whole silly plan to grow it out…we’ll see) and get my first pumpkin latte of the season.  Now THAT sounds like a day I – an apparently extremely self-absorbed person – can handle!  

This week's (mostly lack of) accomplishments

I’ve got myself a sleek new shnazzy laptop.  Name yet to be determined. This laptop arrived in the nick of time – for my week of being an absolute couch potato.  After last week’s insane yard working extravaganza, this week was pretty much the complete opposite.  My butt barely left the sofa.  I’ve had the nastiest cold that was accompanied by the most annoying hacking cough that ya ever did hear.  Really. So annoying.  One night I was hacking so much at 3am, I woke Kayliana up.  She told Mike, in a very concerned voice, “Mommy’s coughing.” Yes, yes she is.

This week, Matthew lost his, I don’t know, 50^th tooth (our boys are freakishly ahead of losing teeth – they’re very advanced.  I should brag about how amazing they are and so above average in this way.  It’s a gift).  He left a note for the tooth fairy that said, “Dear Tooth Fairy, Insted of money, please give me the Lego Star Wars Commander Rex. Love, Matthew P.S. What do you look like.” 

So, here’s what I don’t like: stinkin’ overachieving parents.  Yes, you know who you are.  You’re the ones that do not just one but ALL the over-the-top mom-of-the-year ideas that you find on Pinterest.  You make the rest of us look really bad.  And I don’t appreciate it.  How dare you!  My parenting plan is to set the bar so low, to keep my childrens’ expectations in the pits so that when I do anything above and beyond the call of duty (for example feeding or bathing them) that they are pleasantly surprised and touched with my level of love and commitment to their well-being. 

With the boys being in school for a few years now, they come home with more and more of these elaborate dreams based on what other kids tell them.  “Oh, the Tooth Fairy left me $20.” (Suddenly those two shiney quarters next to Matthew’s alarm clock lose their luster).  “Oh, the Tooth Fairy brought me a brand new Lego set.” (Matthew starts wondering what he ever did to the Tooth Fairy).  “Oh, the Tooth Fairy brought me a Ferarri convertible.”  (Matthew probably starts considering moving in with another family to see if this improves his standing with the Tooth Fairy).

Well, I have news for you, over-achieving parents: I don’t appreciate you and you smell bad.  You stink!

 

Matthew came down the next morning with shoulders slumped and bottom lip protruding.

 

“What’s up, kiddo?” (Knowing that I would just have to hear about how lame I am).

 

“The Tooth Fairy totally ignored my note.  She didn’t even do anything but leave $0.50…like usual.”  Stupid, lame Tooth Fairy.  Ahh, well.  Like I said, I’m not about to start being awesome with my oldest kid.  Then, I’d just have to continue the charade of awesome parent for years to come.  And, let’s face it, that’s just exhausting.

 

While I may not spoil my children (in some ways…in other ways, I’m sure, many would argue they are spoiled rotten), I DO plan on spoiling a new child in my life.  I shan’t elaborate on details as they aren’t mine to announce (and I know we do share some of the same readers), but last night I was blessed beyond belief to be with our best friends, Jason and Rebecca, as Rebecca gave birth to her fourth child, the newest member of our clan, and Mike’s and my Godchild. (The Baptism will be in November. I can’t wait!)  Rebecca, as always, was incredible and I’m just so touched and moved that she loves me enough to ask me to be there.  I LOVE this baby SO very much and can’t believe what a joy it is to have such incredible friends who really are family.

This week's accomplishment

My cranky old man laptop, Filbert, hath bit the dust. I'm currently typing this on our Netbook which is kind of a big pain to type on.  Not my fave.  At any rate, I was all ready for this first full week of school.  I was going to do lots of prep for my upcoming session of music classes (starting in a couple of weeks).  I spent a couple of evenings starting to organize my music on iTunes so that I can put my playlists on my iPod.  I've been using the same cassette tapes (yes, I made 'lil 'ol mix tapes for my music classes) for the last several years.  When Filbert died I lost what progress I'd made. Erg.  So, maybe a blessing in disguise, with no easy laptop situation this week, I gave up on the music class prepping plans and spent three days in a row outside doing yardwork.  It also helped that the forecast was amazing, so I made the most of it.  For three days (two that were above 88 degrees) I battled with a rose bush and a huge juniper shrub.  I wanted those bad boys gone.  They put up a good fight -- with crazy, thick deep roots -- but they had no choice but to give up when facing this gun show.  I eventually got them out and have planted about 10 new things (in that whole area - not just where the shrubs were) including some bulbs, and then I added some fresh bark as well.  It was a ton of work. It was so stinkin' hot. I have blisters on my hands, my back, legs and arms are super sore and I've had a sore throat/cold the whole time...but I did it and it's done!  After days of hot yard work and not feeling awesome, yesterday I showered (not the first time in three days, I promise, but it must've looked like it) and wore a sun dress down to the afternoon bus stop.  Honestly, it was like people didn't recognize me at first.  Apparently, I've looked like such a sweaty, disgusting, dirty, barky mess, that just my bathing impresses people!  

Here we go again!

Another school year has begun.  We walked the boys to the bus this morning for their first day of school.  Matthew (on, this, his 10^th birthday eve) is looking forward to 4^th grade and improving his math skills and reading outloud abilities).  Zachary (7 years old) is starting 2^nd grade.  This year he wants to work on writing.  He’ll also have a big year with First Reconciliation (for which he seems to be compiling an extensive list of sins! J ) and First Communion in May.  Kaliana (2.5 years old) is also looking forward to an epic year.  We will do potty training (God help us) and maybe, just maybe, we’ll see a decrease in toddler tantrums.  That’d be amazing.  Yesterday, in the pouring rain, while walking from the car to the boys’ teacher meet and greet, Kayli had an epic display of two-year-old angst in someone’s front yard.  It was a full on, throw herself on the ground, kick off her rain boots and roll in the muddy grass tantrum for about 12 minutes.  We were late, drenched and cranky for our first impression meetings with the boys’ teachers. Awesome! 

 

Other than the mud-rolling tantrum, we spent yesterday preparing for the school year and Matthew’s birthday.  We celebrated last night with my fam and my Godmother, my mom’s sister, Ann who is in town.  Thankfully, Kayli was (mostly) tantrum-ed out by last night’s family dinner!  

Camping

 The kiddos and I had an awesome ‘lil camping trip with my dad last week.  We were on Whidbey Island at Deception Pass State Park.  The weather was mostly cooperative (as were the children…dad was on pretty good behavior as well).  The state park is near the naval base and the boys LOVED getting to see the fighter jets doing practice fly by’s over head. One highlight (for the boys – and maybe dad) of our camping trip was the rope swing that they fashioned in our camp site.  The highlight for me was our last night.  I was able to get the kids in bed earlyish and dad and I enjoyed a couple hours of quality time by the campfire.  It was a clear night and the amount of stars visible was amazing.  The camping trip with my dad may just become an annual event.  (That is, if he’s willing to spend that much quality time in the woods with US again)!   

Update :)

Today was stitches-removal Day 2.  We went in yesterday so that Kayliana’s first round ‘o stitches could come out.  I have to say (though it IS the smaller of the two wounds and the fewer stitches – just three), it looks fantastic already.  I really think that in just a matter of days it will be hardly noticeable.  Today’s wound (and stitches removal) may be a different story.  It was the deeper, more stitches (5) scenario, so we’ll see.  I’m sure both will be a bit of a scar but nothing too major.  Today’s doctor was the one that did day one’s stitches and popped in to see us on day two.  She is WONDERFUL. 

 

She gave us a present!!  It’s a beautiful book that’s as girly as they get.  The note she wrote in it says, “To Kayli, Matthew and Zachary, The best family ever during not 1 but 2 emergencies.”  Well, so, we maybe handle them pretty well…doesn’t mean that we need to keep ‘em coming!


(Again, I apologize.  I don't know why things aren't in the correct orientation...they say they are on my computer and then when I upload the photo they're all vertical and totally wrong! erg).

Summer shenanigans

We had such an amazing time in Port Ludlow with Jason and Rebecca and their kiddos!! We played at the lagoon (where the kids – especially Kayliana – enjoyed rowing in the little raft).  We searched for sea glass at one of the beaches in Port Townsend.  The guys took all the boys to the pool while the girls napped and Rebecca and I sat on the deck enjoying the beautiful scenary and talking…and talking…and talking.  It’s funny how even when we spend five days together it’s just not long enough and we never run out of things to say!

 

I seriously never wanted to leave; it was such a great vacation.  But, alas, we had to.  Mike had this annoying commitment called “work” that he had to go do the next day.  I had piles of laundry awaiting me and a camping trip with the kids and my dad next week to prepare and pack for.  We came back and discovered that the 16 year old neighbor girl across the street had NOT (as we’d requested) rolled out the garbage can, had not watered the plants, had obviously not cared for Scout-the-Bunny very well, but HAD used our master bathroom toilet and shower and had left the sink running.  She’d also watched over two hours of TV on the Netflix.  Um, awesome.

 

Wednesday (yesterday), I just could not force myself to get up and go for an early morning run.  I finally dragged my post-vacation butt out of bed and was looking forward to an at-home day.  (Let me clarify: an at-home day, while relaxing in the fact that we don’t have to go anywhere, is usually a crazy thoroughly productive day for me.  I was going to get caught up on all of the laundry, do dishes, do some music class planning, camping prep, meal planning, grocery list making, etc.  The kids were happy to be reunited with all their toys and would have a lovely at-home play day….or so I thought).

 

I was still in my pajamas, getting caught up on news and email and was enjoying my morning coffee, the kids had already breakfasted, and I was about to get mine ready when…BOOM. SCREAM.  CRY. Kayli had been running (as she tends to) and tripped (as often happens) and fell (nothing too new here) hitting (this is the bad part) directly above her left eye (thank God it was ABOVE and basically in the eyebrow area) on the corner of our stupid Ikea-sharp-cornered coffee table.  Poor Matthew – who was witness to this – was beside himself at how obviously injured and upset Kayli was.  I took one look at her sorta-deep-gash and said, “Hmmm, we should probably all go get dressed.  I have a feeling this made need stitches.”  Matthew totally started crying which got Kayli going even more.  I called the doctor, got dressed and got us out the door in 20 minutes or so. (I didn’t bother changing Kayli out of her stellar outfit of pajamas and princess dress accompanied by rockstar pony tail bedhead).  They were able to get us in right away, and Kayli was an AMAZING brave girl not whimpering once the whole time we were there (nor did she afterwards). She came away with three stitches and a Dora sticker.  We left the doctor and headed to Burger King for ice cream cones. 

 

Today was going to be another at-home day for the kiddos.  Mike works from home on Thursdays, and, because of this, I scheduled a 1:30 meeting today with the director of the new Montessori school that I’ve landed.  (Woohoo!  I’ll now teach my music classes at two Montessori schools on Mondays).  After my meeting, I stopped at a store to pick up some groceries.  I didn’t have my watch so I pulled out my phone to check the time.  It was 2:20.  I noticed that Mike had sent me a text message at 1:56pm stating: “Calling [the doctor’s office] again Kayli had another fall and will probably need more stitches.”

 

…

…

… (indicating my moment of shock.  In the middle of the store, in the middle of the cracker/cereal aisle, I did a kind of honk-laugh ARE YOU KIDDIN ME?!- shocked gasp combo.  I bet it was rather strange sounding).  I called Mike and he said that, the doctor had just told them that this time, they might send us to the ER.  I told him I’d get there as soon as I could and ditched my cart in the middle of the store (I figured I had a valid excuse) and pedal to the metal-ed to the doctor’s office.  I walked into the waiting room and found our two sweet boys sitting in the same place they’d been sitting at yesterday.  YESTERDAY.  Kayliana had her first stitches YESTERDAY.  Now, it’s TODAY and we’re here.  Again.  For stitches.  Again.  Twice. In Two Days.  Is this a joke?!

 

This time, it was poor Zachary, who witnessed the injury.  Kayli had been dancing (as she does) and fell (as sometimes happens) and hit the low Ikea-stupid-sharp-cornered-TV table just BELOW her right eye (so the other one to, you know, even things out).  Unfortunately this gash was definitely longer, deeper and bloodier.  My poor boys (Mike included).  And POOR KAYLI!

 

Most likely due to this one being worse AND the recent events of yesterday, Kayli didn’t handle things quite as well today.  The doctor had suggested the ER because they have ‘stronger’ stuff to help Kayli calm down (and this was just the upsettedness from the bandaid removal). Thankfully, by the time I arrived, she had settled down considerably (though the sweet girl started to cry the second she saw me).

 

We had a different doctor today who was wonderful.  After seeing how deep this gash was, she decided to bring in another doctor for a second opinion before beginning.  She came back with…our sweet doctor from yesterday who, upon seeing me, opened her arms wide and gave me a big hug!  She went on and on about how perfect Kayli had been yesterday (which was true)…unfortunately, she may have been getting the hopes up for today’s doctor.  Here Today Doc thought she’d have this mellow two year old…mmmm, yeah, not so much.  Half way through the stitches Kayli flipped out and began squirming (despite the super tight papoose board holding her still).  I don’t know if the numbing stuff had worn off or what but it. Was. Awful. Today Doc eventually stopped and they gave Kayli some more of the numbing stuff (but through a needle and it DEFINITELY got worse before it got better).  Once the meds kicked in, Kayli settled down and totally fell asleep.  This certainly made the rest of the procedure easier!

 

We left the doctor’s office today with five stitches, a different Dora sticker and then went through the McDonald’s drive-thru for dinner.  I’ve decided that Ikea (due to their stupid sharp cornered furniture) should cover my fast food AND medical bills. 


When we got home, this picture was waiting for Kayli (made by Zach).  When she saw it she said, “It’s me! With no owies on my two eyeballs!!”  Let’s hope she gets and STAYS that way.  OWIE-FREE.

                                                     Boys' slumber party room

                                          
                                            Um, how do these things work?!

                                                
                                                    Up the creek...so to speak.

                                     
                                     Yeah, this water isn't QUITE deep enough for snorkeling.

                                               It's still fun though!

                                                                Beauty shot.

 

Row, row, row your boat (she did sing it).

 

Zach and Veronica having a cuddle.

 

Sandy butt shot.

The younger Clan ladies enjoying a moment on the deck (before Rebecca and I kick them out of OUR seats).

 

Day 1 outfit at the doctor's for stitches

 

Day 2, not looking quite as awesome

 

All passed out on the papoose :(

 

Happier heading home.

 

 

                      I'm too tired to figure out why this won't post vertically.  Do me a favor and turn sideways to look at it.  Thanks!

 

 

Not so lazy August

 

Yeah, yeah, it’s been a while.  I warned you: I told you that August was going to get cray-cray-busy-bananas and here it is!  The first five days of August we were in Spokane – at the District V Engaged Encounter Convention and seeing Mike’s family.  We had a WONDERFUL trip.  The kids did great on the 5.5 hour drive there.  They were each allowed two questions in the “are we there yet?” or “How much longer?” realm.  Matthew used his up by the time we got to Ellensburg (about two hours away).  Zachary still had his questions when we pulled into the Spokane hotel parking lot!  The Convention – as always was TONS of fun and also spiritually rejuvenating!  I was asked at the last minute to help out with music – singing and fluting – it was fun to dust off my chops and rock a mic again.  (Let’s face it; I’m always rocking a Mike though).

 

Speaking of Mike…yesterday we celebrated our 12^th wedding anniversary!  We’re actually ‘celebrating’ tomorrow night with a date/outing.  The last several days Mike was actually at a computer nerd gaming hootenanny/tournament thingy, so he was in heaven.  The kiddos and I managed to stay out of trouble, hang out with friends, AND stay out of the ER! (Unlike our wedding anniversary last year when we had to meet up with my parents in the ER so that Kayliana’s dislocated elbow could be popped back in).  We’re praying for an ER-free year!

 

Anyway, back to last weekend in Spokane.  We were excited to have the chance to see Mike’s dear Aunt Dolores and Uncle Harry and we were able to get together with a bunch of Mike’s fam that we’ve not seen in years.  Everybody’s doing well and of course multiplying – there were little kid cousins everywhere!  Mike’s cousin Sheri took some great photos too!  I’m working on getting some of these in frames and on the wall.

 

This week, I’m trying to do some planning for the school year – contacting Montessori schools to see if I might land another gig for my Little Ditties Music Academy classes. We’ll see…

 

At the end of the week, we’re heading to my parents’ Port Ludlow beach house with the BFF’s for a LONG weekend of awesome, magic, fun.  I. Can’t. Wait.  Pictures and details to come!  

 

Too bad Kayli was tired and cranky here! We may have to just photo shop a smile and use this on Christmas cards. :D

She turned the charm back on for her photo shoot later though!

Those "lazy" days of summer

I must be just a little bit slow.  Slightly behind.  There is no such thing as “spring cleaning” to me.  My massive urge to purge and clean tends to arrive in…late July when it’s stupid hot (for Seattle, anyway) and the last thing a smart person would do is lock themselves in the hottest section of their house (say the windowless, airflowless master closet) and clean.  And yet…

 

Zachary is a hoarder.  He gets from me.  While I’m by no means an I-need-professional-help hoarder, I have slight pack-rat tendancies.  What’s annoying is that it bugs me.  Fine if you want to be that way, but then it shouldn’t piss YOU off.  The piles of papers and broo-ha-ha that build on the kitchen counter slowly gnaw away at my soul…and yet I’m partially responsible for putting them there.  The mail, the swim lesson report cards, the catalogue I want to look at (though shouldn’t order from), the amazing masterpiece that one of our children created, the Lego magazine that gets looked at and cherished so much it eventually falls apart, the photo that someone took of our kids and that I’ll supposedly, someday put in an album (but in the meantime will just keep on the counter in the pile of paper crap until I eventually shove it in a folder in a drawer that is bursting with other supposedly sentimental paper crap that will just stay there until I finally get Mike to get the kids’ memory boxes down from the garage and I can shove that one photographic treasure into the accordion folder that is my get-out-of-guilt-jail-free-card since I have no intention of scrapbooking a priceless photo album full of love, memories and cut out paper shapes, themed borders or glitter penned dates and clever captions).

 

Anyway, Zach has SORTA gotten my knack for holding on to STUFF.  We’ve only lived here a little over a year and, while, of course, I make my children pick up their rooms, we haven’t done a deep clean, massive re-org and, well, you can tell.  So, a couple of days ago, we basically emptied all of Zach’s belongings into the hall.  We moved furniture.  I cleaned baseboards, I even touched up paint.  We rearranged furniture.  This was so exciting you’d have thought that we’d bought him his own personal bedroom pony.

 

He excitedly explained to Matthew, “Tomorrow morning when I wake up [in the bed now located on the opposite wall], I’ll be all,” making groggy wake-up sounds, “Hmm? Wha?  Where am I?  Did we move again? Wha’s happening?”

 

Matthew’s been so inspired by Zach’s room re-do he wants us to tackle his. We’re still not done with Zach’s.  We’re on day 3.  I feel like Matthew’s  – what with all the Lego and small Star Wars paraphernalia – will take us an additional week.  And lazy summerday time is suddenly dissolving faster and faster.  August is jam-packed.  Next week we head to Spokane for the Engaged Encounter Convention and to see Mike’s family.  The week after that, Mike’s doing a computer nerd gaming conference thingy in Seattle.  He’ll essentially be gone (but sleeping at home) from 8am-12am for several days.  The week after that, we head to mom and dad’s Port Ludlow beach house with the bff’s and all our brood of children.  The week after that, Mike heads to Vancouver B.C. for a computer nerd convention and I’m taking the kids camping with my dad for a few days.  The week after that is Labor Day and then, boom, school starts and then boom, it’s Christmas, baseball season, and then our children are graduating from high school and moving out. 

 

See how time is just flying?!  So, Matthew’s room…might have to wait a little while.

Matthew and his Wingman

A couple of weeks ago, when the boys decided to do a lemonade stand, Matthew and I had a conversation that later resulted in a conversation that Mike and I had that essentially scared the dooty out of me.  Some people were walking by the boys’ stand and Matthew made very little effort to even recognize their presence let alone try to sell them some of the “world’s best lemonade.”  I chatted with him about how he can’t expect to sell much if he’s not even going to be friendly.

 

“Yeah, but I don’t like talking to strangers, Mom,” he said. 

 

“Well, sure, but if you want this to be a success, you’re going to need to,” I explained.  “And you can at least be a little friendlier.”

 

As often happens, Matthew quickly worked out that he could get Zachary to do the outgoing aspect of life that he tends to avoid.

 

The next night while Mike and I enjoyed one of our date nights, we sat in the bar courtyard area and I related this story to him.  I was suddenly transported about, mmm, 12-15 years and I could clearly imagine our two boys/future young men, hanging out at bar.  Zachary, all Mr. Sauve, approaches a nice looking young woman at the bar and, with way too much swagger, says, “So,” (jerking his head toward the corner of the bar where Matthew is standing slightly awkwardly), “my brother over there thinks you’re cute.”  Matthew gives a goofy little wave, maybe even a cheesy grin punctuated by a thumb's up.

 

“But,” I tell Mike, explaining the vision that I’m having, “Then Zach, Mr. Studly Confidence totally gets the girl!  Oh my gosh!” I exclaim realizing with horror, “Zach is Matthew’s wingman….and Zach is a TOTAL player!”

 

Mike laughs and says, “Well, no, Zach’s not a TOTAL player.  He’ll be a gentleman.  Don’t get me wrong, he’ll get plenty of play, but he’ll be a gentleman about it.”

 

I fear for the future.