Not-So-Super-Mom

I won't lie, sometimes I feel a little *inferior* as a mom. This time of year, it seems to bug me a little more. When I see photos of my friends being uber creative with their little "Elf on a Shelf" dude, making out-of-control Pintrest crafts and cookies with their children, dressing their kids in fantastically so-adorable matchy-match clothes for Santa photos...I could go on and on.  I'm like, hey, I got ONE area of the house decorated tonight after work (It takes me the whole month of December to get it all done) and my kids ate cereal for dinner so I could get that accomplished.

I don't bake (because it requires measuring and I'm more of a throw-it-all- together-in-a-pan-and-hope-it-tastes-good type of cook) and I don't own a glue gun. Somehow my kids have survived and seem pretty darn happy. I wish I had the time, desire or patience to scrapbook, plan cute ornaments for my children to craft, and knit them matching scarves...but that's just not me, and I have to be okay with that. Sometimes I have to remind myself of all the wonderful holiday traditions I *AM* able to pull off. They are not hand-made. But they are our traditions and our family memories...

1. I ALWAYS go tree-slaying with my Dad. Every year. I have since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. And now that I have my own family, we ALL go with my Dad (sometimes my Mama comes too, if it's not too gross outside). We go to the Christmas tree farm, stomp around in the mud looking for the perfect tree, and saw the thing down. My Dad and I are short, so we have to bring a tape measure. Otherwise, we will end up with a tree we think is huge but needs to be put on a box in order to be taller than everyone else in the family. Yes, Mom, we remember that happened. Lesson learned :) Even as I get older, (ahem, *FORTY* this year), this is one tradition I am unwilling to give up. I hope someday when my kids are older, they will invite me to chop down their tree with them. I will be there with (jingle) bells on.

2. We take the kids downtown, for a fancy family dinner and to see Santa. Growing up, I always visited Santa at the Macy's in downtown Portland with my Grandma. I would ride the monorail around the ceiling, wait in line for a million years, and tell the guy in the red suit what I wanted for Christmas. (Sometimes we would head over to see the Cinnamon Bear too - remember that guy? Best cookies ever.) When we started having children, we of course went downtown to Macy's each year to see Santa - until Macy's did the STUPIDEST thing ever and took the old Santaland out to build a hotel. (I may be a little bitter still) Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, they replaced our REAL Santa with a fake-bearded Santa. Now we have boycotted Macy's during the holidays and visit our real Santa who has moved to Pioneer Courthouse Square. The monorail may be gone, my sweet Grandma may be gone, I may not dress my kids in matching clothes, but my memories live on...and the tradition continues. (Love you, Grandma)

3. Christmas Lights! We tend to alternate, but we usually pick one venue to visit each year, whether it's The Grotto, the Zoo Lights, or driving around Winter Wonderland at PIR. I will never forget the look on my first-born's face when we drove through Winter Wonderland for the first time when he was almost a year old. He bounced up and down to "Jingle Bell Rock" the whole way through with a smile from ear to ear. Now he is huge, turning 13, smells a little like feet and doesn't smile as much...but to this day it is still his favorite Christmas song. Memory accomplished.

4. We eat cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. My Mom makes the absolute BEST cinnamon rolls on the planet. (I obviously did not inherit her baking genes). She bakes them up ahead of time, freezes them in cute pie tins for us and we heat them up in the oven while we open presents. Christmas morning would not be the same without those cinnamon rolls. I am hoping that when my Mom can no longer make them, that my sister knows the recipe cuz she seems to  like measuring stuff.

5. Santa Mouse! When I was a kid, we had this book called "Santa Mouse." Basically it was about a little mouse who was Santa's friend, and he would hide little presents in the tree. When all the other presents were opened and over, we would always find the best present hiding somewhere in the tree - it could be an item, or it could just be a note with clues that took us all over the house to find the BIG gift of the year. So awesome. I have continued that tradition with my kids. In fact, by the time I make it downstairs to throw the rolls in the oven, my kids have usually already scoped out where the Santa Mouse present is.

6. Ornaments. Not hand-made, mind you, just good ol' store-bought ornaments. My Mom always gave my sister and I a new ornament each Christmas. Usually they would resemble something we were into at that time - animals, sports, characters - I have about a ton and a half dance ornaments from my dance team days. When we grew up and moved out, we got to take our childhood ornaments with us, and that is what decorates our tree...Along with the new ornaments I buy for my kids each year, that they eventually will take to start their own Christmas tree. I love that. Thanks, Mom.

So, I guess even though I don't like fabric stores, measuring cups and hate the feel of glitter in my hands, I am doing alright. I may not be the best mommy ever, but I'm doing what I can to keep traditions alive, and to raise my kids with a great love of family and memories. I'm cool with that.

Merry Christmas to all the other Not-So-Super-Moms out there. You may not *feel* super, but I guarantee your kids think you hung the moon.

Lordy, Lordy, We're all turning 40

Hard to believe I have neglected my blog for a year and a half. Even harder to believe that I am turning 40 this year, along with all my pals. Some friends have already reached this magical age, some are planning their celebrations as I write this, and some - like me - have a few months before I need to worry about it too much. But it's there...LOOMING. 40. Holy crapola.

I guess it seems so weird because it's really the first milestone birthday I remember my PARENTS having. It doesn't seem like that long ago actually that we were celebrating their 40th birthdays with goofy parties and all their friends acting silly - buying them adult diapers, denture cream and boxes of prunes. Maybe that's why it seems bizarre to be here already. I feel like there has been some sort of time warp that happened between age 30 and now. Turning 30 was fun - and then time sped up out of control, I took a nap, had a few kids and now we're turning 40. The big 4-0. When my Dad turned 40, someone got him a really ugly t-shirt that said, "Four Days Older Than Dirt." That's us, folks. We have arrived at the year of ugly t-shirts and prune gifts.

My daughter, while watching re-runs of Happy Days, asked me recently if I knew Fonzie. Like in the 1950's! As if that wasn't bad enough, my 5-year-old son asked me the other day if I ever saw any T-Rex when I was a kid. Seriously. He thinks I was alive with dinosaurs.

On the bright side, even though I still feel like a kid most of the time (and sometimes the sense of humor of a 13-year-old boy), I do feel like this new age comes with some sort of badge of honor. I've learned A LOT of good lessons over the last 40 years.

Like, for instance (in no particular order):

1. Life is NOT fair. My parents have told me this my entire life and unfortunately, it is true. There are always going to be people who suck, opportunities that don't work out for whatever reason, and people who suck. (Yes, I meant to list that one twice)

2. Laughter really is the best medicine. Give me a pool-full of my best friends, a dirty-word flip book and a pitcher of margaritas and you will watch every care and worry just magically vanish into tears-streaming-down-your-face belly laughs.

3. When your gut tells you not to do something, or not to trust someone, believe your gut.

4. Life is too short to hold a grudge. Forgiveness heals and letting go of anger and resentment will set you free.

5. Slow down every once in a while and appreciate where you are at that very moment. Even if things aren't going your way - if you stop and think about everything you have been blessed with, you start to appreciate the little things more.

6. Travel the world when you can. So much to see, so little time.

7. Never underestimate the power of prayer.

8. Education is empowering. Stay in school and invest in yourself.

9. Even bad pizza is pretty damn good.

10. Having a fancy wedding isn't nearly as important as learning how to stick it out in a marriage through the good and the bad.

11. My children are, and always will be, my proudest accomplishments.

12. Everybody is crazy. It's just that everyone is different "levels" of nuts.

13. Call your parents often, even when you're a grown-up.

14. When you say you will be somewhere, be there. On time.

15. Pets are family, and losing them is heartbreaking. But I'd rather be heartbroken from the loss than never know that kind of unconditional love.

16. My bedroom has been a mess for almost 40 years. I think it's safe to say it will never be clean.

17. Tell the truth. Liars suck. (See #1)

18. Never answer the door for the pizza man on skis, while only wearing your bra and underwear. It's a memory your friends will never let you live down.

19. You are always interviewing for your next job.

20. "Quarter Beer Night" was never a good idea.

Holy Toenails, Batman!

(Original Post dated December 2010)

Oh boy…haven’t had a post about the gym in a while, I guess you could say I was due for a story. I recently started training for a triathlon – it still makes me giggle to say that out loud because it sounds like a joke or something…HAHA! Anyway, I’ve been super diligent about getting up at 3:40am and getting to the gym by 4am to either swim, bike or run – I have to work out at this time because I have to be home by 5:15am before the hubs leaves for work. (See earlier post titled “Crazy Woman on the Loose!” for more on this topic)

The good part about getting to the gym at o-dark-thirty is there is hardly anyone there. The bad part is, the people who ARE there, are generally people who you don’t want to necessarily see in a bathing suit. To be more specific, I normally spend my swim mornings dodging old dudes in Speedos. This morning was no exception. My freestyle practice this morning was accompanied, by three, count ‘em THREE, old dudes in Speedos. I usually am the first one in the pool, so fortunately I am almost finished with my workout when they begin emerging from the men’s locker room. A few minutes after they join me, I excuse myself to the adjacent hot tub to take a breather before heading home.

Sitting there, with my eyes closed and my head lying back, I get that feeling – you know the one - that someone is looking at me. I open my eyes just in time to see a new fellow has joined us poolside. At least this one is wearing giant flowered swim trunks to cover his “business.” When I first see him, I think he is going into the pool with the other men, but to my horror he does a switchback, walks over to the hot tub and slides in next to me. Okay, this isn’t too awkward, I try to tell myself. It’s 4:30 am, this is a gym, I’m not the only one that wants to sit in the hot tub, it’s okay, I can handle it…

I close my eyes and lay my head back again…but only for a moment because I can’t stop peeking over at my flowered friend. He keeps laying back and letting his whole body “bob up” in the water – it’s very annoying. Then, I see them. Each time he bobs up, his fat little feet break the surface of the water just inches from me and I see them. The longest, yellowest, nastiest toenails I have ever seen. Gag reflex in full swing, I pretend to notice the time on the clock and jump out to grab my towel. Extra-long shower for me today and I took notice that the pool/spa is cleaned on Tuesdays and Fridays so that gives me hope for a toenail-free experience later this week.

Dear Santa, please bring toenail guy some clippers. On second thought, please bring him a hacksaw. And cancel his gym membership. Love, Kristin

You Can't Make Me Like It! Post #3 - Holiday Edition!

I haven't written a "You can't make me like it" post in quite a while - if you aren't familiar with this, it is all the things I think of on an every day basis that I cannot STAND but that everybody else in the world seems to *LOVE*.  I've come up with a holiday/winter-ish edition to this collection of tasty tidbits.  You're welcome!:)

1.  Black Friday.  After eating a crapload plate full of tryptophan with all the trimmings nothing sounds more hellish to me (okay, almost nothing) than heading out to go "BARGAIN SHOPPING" at Walmart at midnight with all the other Black Friday freaks.  Nooooo thank you.  I enjoy my sleep too much and shopping at Walmart is *NEVER* appealing, let alone in the middle of the freakin' night!  I much prefer Cyber Monday where I can shop at my own pace, in my pjs, without sweating.

2.  Fuzzy animal head hats with ears.  Do you know the ones I'm talking about?  All of the sudden I am seeing *LOTS* of people wearing these.  In PUBLIC!  Now, I can see a three-year-old kid wearing one of these dorky hats, but an adult man in a panda hat?  Really, people??

3.  "Santa Baby."  As in, the song.  I've heard several versions and they all irritate the DAYLIGHTS outta me. I'm not sure which is worse, the older versions or the MEGA-ANNOYING Madonna version. In fact, I think if I hear it one more time this Christmas season (and the season has just begun!) I might break out in hives.

4. Pumpkin pie.  I know, I know...what am I, like, un-American?!  I have seriously tried to like it and I just don't. For Thanksgiving this year I made an interesting variation that was a CHOCOLATE pumpkin pie.  Sounds gross, but it actually didn't really taste like pumpkin...more like chocolate pie with cinnamon...made the pie somewhat bearable. And while we're on the subject of pie, just what jackwagon came up with the idea of mincemeat?!?!

5. Snow. I know I've mentioned this one before, I don't like to be cold. I think maybe snow would be more enjoyable in a city that actually knows how to handle it and where the world doesn't shut down for three snowflakes. I can handle snow for like, a day, cuz that's when it's pretty. Then, I need to get out of my house and go tanning or something. (Just kidding, I don't really go tanning anymore- I heard you all judging me!!!)

6. Walnuts. Not sure why I think of walnuts when making my holiday list of stuff I don't like, but for some reason they came to mind.  Some people like to put walnuts in baked goods at Christmastime.  That's a good way to screw up a perfectly good cookie, folks.

7. Always saying "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas."  I'm *really* tired of being politically correct.  I know not everyone celebrates Christmas, but I do, so if I see you, I'm going to say "Merry Christmas."  Don't blow a gasket or anything. Have some egg nog.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart...JACKA$$!

Today I was driving down the freeway, on my way to an appointment - flipping through radio stations trying to find something good.  Let me just tell you, there are THREE, count 'em THREE radio stations that are already playing nothing but Christmas music 24/7.  It is November 16th, folks.  I just threw out my rotting Halloween jack-o-lanterns.  Son of a nutcracker!

Anyhoo - I landed on one such station and as much as I wanted to turn the channel, I couldn't.  Why you ask?  Because they were playing "Last Christmas" by WHAM. (If you have speakers, now is your cue to turn them UP because at the time of this post it's on the top of my playlist;)  Should I be embarrassed that I still love that song?  It is the quintessential Christmas song of the early 80's, and I love it. When I hear it, I can't help but be FLOODED with memories of silly 7th and 8th grade dances in the dark gymnasium-transformed-into-love-palace that was our Jr. High gym. Paper decorations on the walls, tinsel hanging from the florescent light fixtures, strobe lights and mistletoe...mistletoe?  WHO BROUGHT the mistletoe?  (OMG, so-and-so brought mistletoe!  You know what that means!  He's gonna try to KISS HER!)  Sorry, I got caught up in the moment there.

So this song has me back there in that gym. Shy kids up against the wall, acting like they really didn't want to dance anyway.  Not-so-shy kids slow dancing, girls' arms around the guy's neck, boy's hands on the girl's waist  - side to side, side to side, side to side... (let's face it, it was 80's dancing, and we weren't that good). We thought we were so old.  SO grown up. There were girls crying in the bathroom because their boyfriend broke up with them RIGHT before the dance (a-holes), or because the guy they were in *LOVE* with was dancing with another girl to THEIR SONG (hussy), or because their VERY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD (who was friends with them that morning while eating Smurfberry Crunch for breakfast!) decided she hated her now because she wore generic Keds and shopped at Sears.  Ah - Jr. High.  Don't those memories just make you smile?  No?  Well, I still like the song anyway.

Now, I have no idea if middle schools still have dances like this but as a parent of an almost-middle-school son and daughter, I certainly hope they do not.  Because I know what I was doing what some kids were doing at those dances...and let's just say we didn't have the *best* supervision.  I have a feeling what goes around comes around and I'm sure my parents will be smiling and nodding their heads in understanding when I *get* to experience my own children in middle school.  Not ready for that next year.  Nope, NOT ready!

For the Girls

My girlfriends. Most of us have been friends since childhood - or at least since we were teenagers. Some of them became my friends a little later.  We have been through *A LOT*. We've argued over stupid boys drama and we've cried together through breakups, divorces, weddings and the births of our babies.  We've held each other after miscarriages and loss of parents. We've laughed our asses off at the comedy that is life, bitched about dieting, jobs and people who've screwed us over. We've partied like rock stars braided each other's hair, reminisced about old times and sometimes gone weeks or months without talking only to pick up like no time has gone by. 

I know if I need them, any single ONE of them (or all of them at the same time for that matter) they will be there, in all their gorgeously honest glory, whether I like it or not. They are TOUGH and their strength inspires me. Their words of encouragement pick me up off the ground at times, even if I don't want to hear it. That's what I love about these girls. Their laughs make it all okay and we carry each other.

Thankful

Sometimes I think I *THINK* too much about what I should write instead of just writing. Things happen all day long, and I think, "is that blog -worthy? or is that just worthy of a quick Facebook status update?" Silly, really...because it really is all blog worthy. I created this darned thing so I could make note of life and not forget funny happenings - one day maybe I'll finally get a book published, but for now, this is my outlet.

November, as well all know, is a month for giving thanks. We thank our veterans, we thank our families, we thank GOD for giving us the things we have and for taking care of us. It's easy to lose sight of the things we have to be thankful for - especially in our crazy busy lives when we all want things NOW, and FAST, and EASY. It's just not the way it goes, folks - but we are selfish little things and when things don't go our way it is easy to lose that focus of thankfulness. The last few months, for me, have been nothing short of brutal when it comes to this...I keep praying for the things that I think I *NEED* to happen and this little voice keeps telling me "you don't know WHAT you need."  

So I'm taking a step back today, taking a deep breath, and thinking about what I am REALLY thankful for. And it's things like this - the funny, sweet, laughable, heart-melting moments of this week that make me wake up and smell the thankfulness.

*While my husband was packing for a trip oversees last weekend, my littlest guy, Mr. Fredricksen, laughed for 20 minutes straight about Daddy packing "Toilet Treats" (toiletries) in his suitcase. He makes me laugh HARD every day. Thankful - because this kind of laughter is sooooo good for the soul.

*My daughter insisting that our dog wanted sloppy joes for his birthday dinner - and as it turns out she was right. Note to readers: Dogs *LOVE* sloppy joes! Thankful for the thoughtfulness of my girl, giggles and dog parties.

*My big, tough, almost-11-year old son calling me from home when he was so sick - needing me to come home. *NEEDING* his mom for the first time in a really long time. I guess we never grow out of needing our moms every once in a while. Thankful to be needed.

*A text message from my Mom and Dad - on a day when they knew I needed it the most - that simply said "We love you." I love you both too - more than I tell you, more than I could ever show you. Thank you for *ALWAYS* having my back. Even when I was hard to love.

*A Facebook status update from Japan - my husband saying "Hang in there, Honey! Missing my family!" They say the people you love the most are the ones you take for granted. When you have a change to your routine, a little separation for a bit, I think that can be good. You begin to remember what it is that you fell in love with about a person - you start to recall the things you really appreciate about your partner. Thankful for my best friend - looking forward to having him home.

*And lastly, this morning, I woke up to a little smiling cherub face close to mine saying "Good Morning!" I had been dreaming about these things, these moments of thankfulness this week so it was fresh in my mind and I put my arms around my littlest pal and told him I was ever so thankful for him. He just smiled and hugged me tighter. "I'm thankful for you too, Mama."

**heart. melting.**

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Now I get it. I get what I really need.

Katie-isms Post #5

When I woke up my daughter this morning for school she was in a panic.  She had had a REALLY scary dream and was anxious to tell me all about it. 
"Mom, I had this terrible dream. It was SO scary.  I got so much candy for Halloween!  I got so much that it filled up my entire room!   I couldn't have sheets or covers on my bed -- I was just covered in candy!  And I ate so much candy that I blew up to be HUGE!  And then I exploded because I ate so much candy and I died!"

"Wow," I said calmly, "that's a pretty scary dream.  Does that mean you don't want to go trick-or-treating to get candy this year?"
She swung her legs out of bed and stood up, suddenly completely fine without missing a beat.  "Ya right! (she rolls her eyes at me) I'm totally gonna go."

Mr. Fredricksen

My youngest son, age 4, has changed his name to "Mr. Fredricksen" (he got it from the movie, "UP")...so for the last week and a half, instead of calling him Josh, we call him Mr. Fredricksen.  In fact, he even refers to himself as Mr. Fredricksen...so he will correct me if I make a mistake and call him by his given name.  This makes me laugh, partly because when I was pregnant with Mr. Fredricksen, my daughter (age 4 at the time) wanted me to name him Mr. Whiskers. :)

So, Mr, Fredricksen gave me a present for my birthday last weekend.  He had wrapped the gift in beautiful green leaves and pink flowers he had found in the front yard.  I opened it slowly...wondering what treasure he could have found for me.  Inside, I found a cat food coupon for 50 cents off Whisker Lickin's.  Stifling my giggles, I thanked him immensely and told him how much I loved and appreciated the gift.  Mr. Fredricksen just shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal as he walked away and responded, "I found it in the garage."

Last night I had a dream we had pet alligators (we have a dog and two cats) that lived in our backyard swimming pool (we do not really have a pool). My family was swimming around in the pool and the ginormous alligators (about 10 of them) were laying on the bottom of the pool staring up at us like we were tasty morsels of food. I got out of the pool calmly, went into the house and suddenly realized I couldn't remember the last time we had fed the alligators and panicked...I had to get my kids out of the pool or they would be eaten! When I arrived back outside my husband informed me had taken care of it...I looked over and he had shot, killed, skinned and stacked up the pet alligators in the yard. When I asked him why he did that, he simply said, "I had to. They were trying to come into the house to eat you."

 

 

I've been trying to figure out what this dream means and I've come up with a few explanations...

#1. I am worried about something happening to my children.

#2. I view my husband as our family protector in any given situation.

OR...

#3. I have watched entirely too many episodes of "Swamp People."

Katie-isms Post #4

This actually happened a few months ago but I've been so bad about writing these things down in my blog I wanted to do it before I forgot.  If you don't already know this about my daughter, she is the queen of random.

While riding in the car one day, Katie asks me, "Mom, how big can hail get?"

"I'm not sure of the record," I tell her, "but I've heard about hail the size of golf balls and baseballs..."

She is silent a moment. Pondering. Then she asks, "Could hail get bigger than a can of yams?"

Top 10 things I learned while competing in my first Triathlon

First off, (confession time), that photo isn't me. I know, you thought it was...;) My photos from this past weekend are a lot less...uh, impressive. BUT, I did learn a lot from this little goal I set for myself. I have put together a top ten list of things (think Letterman) I learned...Jodi, this blog post is for you...:)

Top 10 things I learned while competing in my first Triathlon

#10. I need a new bike. The giant comfy seat on my $99 Fred Meyer special was a bonus, but the mountain bike tires and ridiculously heavy frame were NOT HELPFUL on the 12 miles of rolling highway hills with 40 mph headwind…at least it didn’t have a basket and a bell.

#9. Some people are seriously hard core. I saw more than one woman go from the pool, to the bike, then to the run in no more than a two-piece swimsuit on. And this is not southern California people…this is Corvallis. OREGON. In April! We are talking MAYBE 40 degrees outside…

#8. Don’t bother with flip flops when running from the swim to transition #1. I brought them thinking I would use them but then quietly observed the folks from the previous heats RUNNING barefooted from the pool outside to transition…and decided I would most likely fall flat on my face if I tried to wear them. I would need to put aside my fears of contracting a flesh-eating foot fungus and go with bare feet. GAH!

#7. There is no easy way to quickly get biking clothes on over your wet body/swimsuit. Kinda like trying to stuff a turkey into a water balloon.

#6. Photos that your husband snaps of you while trying to *gracefully* do #7 are photos that should be destroyed. IMMEDIATELY.

#5. It is virtually impossible to put on lip gloss during any of these events.

#4. The “no headphones” rule during these races really bites. Running sucks. And running sucks even more without music.

#3. Your legs try to tell you they don’t work after getting off a bike ride like that. Mine said, “You’re telling me to run now, lady?? You’ve got to be freaking kidding me…”

#2. There is nothing quite like having your children shouting “GO MOM! YOU CAN DO IT!” each and every time you pass them on the course, and then seeing their faces at the finish line after 2+ hours of pain and sweat. I’d kick ass for my kids any day, any time, any place. Try me.

#1. I am A LOT tougher than I thought.

Happy 4 Months til the 4th of JULY!

I haven’t written a new entry in so long – but it’s not because nothing hilarious has happened (I feel like my life is a comedy show minus the laugh track)…it’s because I have had the worst case of writers block. EVER.

I don’t know about anyone else but I am so OVER the cold weather. I’m tired of being freezing all the livelong day. I notice that at this time of year, every year, I start looking for jobs in warm places…southern California, Arizona, Hawaii…it is my thing. I do it every. single. winter. Because let’s face it, winter in Portland SUCKS. It’s cold, it’s wet, it rains every hour of every day…LAME-O. But I woke up this morning with a new attitude! Why? Because when I thought about the date, March 4th, I not only thought of my friend Morgan (Happy Birthday, Dillhole!:) but I also realized that just FOUR SHORT MONTHS from right now we will be celebrating the 4th of July. I will be wearing flip-flops, hanging out on my deck with a cold beverage, smelling bar-b-que and eating homemade ice cream. I will continue to think about this in order to get myself through the day and try not to focus too much on the fact that I can’t feel my feet.

Joshy's own song lyrics...Post #1

"Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere! Go tell it on the mountain, that Jesus Christ is BORED!"

Pardon Me, That Was My Shoe Farting...

Everyone has their favorite pair of comfortable shoes. My favorites to wear to work were a sensible pair of black Clarkes that my mom had given me. I loved them so much that I wore the soles right off of them – seriously…for several days last week I couldn’t figure out what this “clicking” sound was when I walked. My husband grabbed my shoe and turned it over so I could see the bottom. “Hello???” he laughed, “Don’t you ever look at the bottom of your shoes??” There, to my dismay, was the culprit of the clicking…a ginormous hole in the bottom of my right shoe, and all of the metal “guts” of the shoe exposed. Bummer.

So I broke down and headed to Macy’s to find a new pair. After trying on a few choices, I settled on another pair of cute but comfortable, sensible (and not cheap!) Franco Sartos. I’m not trying to win a beauty contest with these shoes or anything, but I want something that can look good with dress pants or jeans and that are comfortable enough to wear every day in the pouring down Portland rain during the fall and winter months. I found this pair fast and was excited to wear them and not have to listen to the clicking…

What could be worse than clicking shoes, you might ask? Farting shoes. Yes, people, apparently it is a widespread problem. I wore my new shoes for the first time yesterday and to my horror the left shoe expressed its, er, flatulence, LOUDLY, with every single step I took. Holy crap, this was embarrassing. Forced to explain my situation to every passerby I found myself saying, “Do you hear that?” (like they couldn’t) “That’s my shoe, I swear.”

I took off the shoe, tried stretching out the top, thought maybe it was because the leather wasn’t broken in yet. Nothing seemed to help.

I hit the internet to find a solution. Just so you know, there are entire web forums dedicated to farting shoes and what to do about them. It seems to be a very common occurrence – in fact, everyone I talked to about my “problem” yesterday said they had at least one pair of farting shoes. Nice. Comforting to know I am not alone. Some people even resort to throwing their farting shoes away! (If you really care, I solved the problem by putting on socks today…voila! No more noises! Although this kind of misses the whole point of having expensive buttery leather next to my feet…)

So…moral of the story: it happens to many, so you need not hang your head in shame. If the shoe farts, wear it.

Katie-isms - Post #4

Out of the blue the other day, Katie asks her grandmother, "Nonnie? Would you ever eat bull balls?"

That's our girl!

Panda Express

Snuggled under the covers in bed last night, I was reading my nightly three books to Joshua when I began reading a familiar one we had looked at together the night before about panda bears.

“Oh, here’s the panda book, Joshy,” I said as he nodded with a huge smile on his face. This kid loves animals – any and all animals – and he loves to learn facts about different creatures so we spend a lot of time discussing where animals live, what they eat, what sounds they make, etc. I read the first couple of pages about our panda friend and decided to ask Josh a couple of things about what he already knew about pandas.

“Joshy,” I turned to him, “do you remember where pandas live?”

“Panda lives in China,” he answers, matter-of-factly.

I beam at my three-year-old’s amazing wisdom. He is, I'm sure, the smartest child on the face of this earth. “You’re right! Pandas live in China!” I turn the page and see Mr. panda chewing on the all-too-familiar stick of bamboo. “And what do pandas eat, babe? Do you remember?”

Joshy looks at me, eyes bright, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah!” He exclaims, “Panda eats Chinese food!”

Aw, my little pal…you always make me smile...

Happy Birthday Bubs!

This weekend we are celebrating our “baby’s” 3rd birthday. I am just feeling so thankful for my little guy I feel the need to write about him. Our older two children were born so close together (14 months apart) and in a way I feel like I didn’t get to enjoy them one-on-one as babies, because they really were both babies at the same time! As they got older, I had that gnawing feeling that I just wasn’t done yet – it sounds weird, but I just knew there was somebody missing from our family. I told my husband that I really felt we were supposed to have another boy named Josh…I know, weird, right? After finally talking him into the idea we decided to give it a go…and what do you know, we had a boy and named him Joshua.:)

The first thing I remember about Joshy was the way he was so alert and looking around the room with wonder from the moment the nurse handed him to me in the hospital. He wasn’t crying…it was like he was just in awe of his surroundings. He looked all around and then his eyes met mine. “Well, there you are,” I told him. “I knew you were supposed to be here.” At that moment, our family finally felt complete…there was no question in my mind. I am done now, I thought, my family is all here. What peace that feeling is, I really can’t describe it.

Every day for the last three years I have been so thankful for my littlest pal. “Thankful” doesn’t even seem like an adequate word to use. I joke that he keeps me young…because there is nothing I love more than to just hang out and be silly with him. Joshy loves animals, especially elephants, and we visit the zoo together at least twice a month. He is a natural entertainer and puts on shows where he sings his heart out and then immediately asks his audience for applause. Josh is always caring about others and when he sees someone always asks how they are doing or how their dog is doing. He makes me belly-laugh every day. His favorite musical artists are Lady Gaga and Johnny Cash. Seriously. He asks me to play “Poker Face” and then “Ring of Fire” on the IPod every single day…then spends the rest of the day calling me “Mama Poker-face, Mamamama” and singing into his microphone “…and it burns, burns, burns…the ring of fire…the ring of fire.” Did I mention he makes me belly-laugh every single day?

So, to God I say thank you. Thank you for giving me this amazing little human being to take care of. To Joshy, I say thank you for being my little Bubba, my sweet friend, for changing me in ways I didn’t know I needed to be changed, for making me laugh, for fish-kisses and head-butts, for your big squeezing hugs and for loving me and making me feel important always. Happy Birthday, my big three-year-old boy. I knew you were supposed to be here.

Dear Grandma

This week marks the year anniversary of my Grandma being "Promoted to Glory." So much has happened in the past year - both good and bad - in a way it seems hard to believe it's been a year already, but in another way it seems like a lifetime ago. I thought it would be fitting to post the letter I wrote to her for her memorial service last year. I really miss her, but know I will see her again someday:)

May 2009

Dear Grandma,

We love you and we all miss you so much already. I struggled with how to begin this tribute and then it occurred to me…I needed to just write you a letter and thank you for everything you did for us and everything we learned from you as your grandchildren.

Thank you for showing us love and the importance of family.

Thank you for being such a strong woman, and raising your daughters to be such strong women, so they could raise us to be strong individuals.

Thank you for making the most fabulous marionberry pie, raspberry jam, and creamed onions that anyone could ever make. No matter how hard we will try, we know that our versions will pale in comparison.

Thank you for taking care of us on days that we were home sick from school and for bringing things over to share with us on those days to get our minds off feeling so bad.

Thank you for Saturday hamburger night.

Thank you for teaching us that everything and anything could be fixed with the help of the tattered, little red screwdriver kept in the kitchen drawer…and I mean anything.

Thank you for all of the music programs, graduations, birthday parties and other events you attended for every single one of us.

Thank you for all the years we attended the “Ladies and Lassies” brunch together for Mother’s Day at Temple. Mother’s Day is definitely going to be different this year.

Thank you for always having homemade cookies and for always giving us a baggie of them for the long ride home from Black Butte.

Speaking of Black Butte, thank you for teaching us patience by serving us just one pancake at a time for breakfast.

Thank you for teaching us the ABC’s by way of the spice wallpaper in the kitchen…”C” is for Coriander, Cumin, Celery Salt…

Thank you for having us over for sleepovers when we were kids and waking us up by saying “well don’t YOU have a good in America” if we slept in late.

Thank you for always walking us out when we’d leave your house. Whether it was walking us to our car and waving until we were no longer in sight…or later on, walking us to the elevator in your apartment. That made an impression on me. I loved you so much for that.

Thank you for our late-night phone conversations after I was an adult. If I felt like talking to someone at 11:00 at night, I always knew you would be up to answer the call.

Thank you for teaching us to love the Lord and to look to Him for strength. I am especially thankful for that this week as we all look to Him for peace.

I know I speak for all of the grandkids when I say I feel so blessed to have known you for my whole life. My life was better because of you, because of the love you gave us and for the lessons you taught us. Thank you, for showing us we had “a good in America”…

Love, Kristin

"Katie-isms" - Post #3

In my car, Katie points to a weird little button next to the dashboard.

"What is that button for, Mom?" she asks.

"I actually have no idea," I admit.

She looks at me with knowing smile and says matter-of-factly, "I think it's for a parachute."