Soccer Moms

This is story about a girl and her ride, and the family politics that come into play when she decides it's not working for her anymore. I drive a 2003 Toyota Tundra that was given to us generously by my husband's grandpa last year. It's fun, it has tons of space to haul stuff, and is, of course, seriously nice. However, I've discovered that driving a truck comes with certain disadvantages.

1. Carseats and growing children don't fit easily into the back seat. Aidyn's legs now seem to be locked in a permanent wrestling match with the passenger seat, even when it's at the very frontest position (yes, I'm aware frontest isn't a word).

2. All of the gear I had taken for granted leaving in the back of my SUV (a stroller, sling, change of clothes, dead midget hooker) doesn't do so well being left in the back of an uncovered truck. I had to start unloading the stroller every trip so that it wouldn't get wet or stolen, and I can't tell you how many times we've forgotten to bring it in and thus, it's gotten wet, or how many more times I've went to go somewhere and realized I forgot the stroller again.

3. It's pretty environmentally unfriendly, which isn't working for me. The EPA scores my particular truck at a 1, on a scale of 0-10, 10 being best. Yikes! It's a gas hog and has more emissions than my husband after a protien shake.

And so, I did some research, did some more research, test drove a few models, and did some more research. After testing some hybrids and realizing that they can actually be more expensive to drive in some instances, I gave up my dream of owning a Toyota Prius (not to mention, who could actually fit anything in that boot?). I finally settled on the unassuming, decent gas mileage, good family carish Nissan Sentra. Once all figures were calculated (car payments, insurance, gas annually) it turned out that even adding a car payment, the Sentra, brand new, would be cheaper to drive.

And so, on to the last order of business, explaining our situation to grandpa and asking if it would be completely ungrateful wretchish of us to trade in such a nice present for something that was more workable for our family. I guess I assumed that all would work out, and after he understood the current problems, would understand and let us find something better for our family. What I forgot about was grandpa's ability and drive to find answers for all the world's problems and therefore, shoot our plans right out of the water.

After a conversation, grandpa had a think on it and returned his verdict. The truck was going nowhere, because he didn't want it leaving the family. That being said (I'm quoting that), he had three options for us.

1. Keep the truck and deal!
2. Swap the truck for grandma's 2006 Honda Odyssey, and then grandma would swap auntie for her 2003 Toyota Camry.
3. Swap auntie for the Camry and drive that instead.

In this way no one incurs payments and the truck stays in the family to be used for various family matters. Apparently, grandma really dislikes her van, and has always wanted the Camry back, so they're lobbying for me to take the van, which really leaves me two choices, the van or the truck.

I know that the van holds the answers to 2 of three problems, which both are about good, usable space. Neither option is very earth friendly, so to speak, and so I'm going to have to forgo my feelings about that. The van would be plenty of space, last for years to come, and I know, it's a great solution. The problem? It's just not me. The truck makes me feel, excuse me, but bad ass. I'm from Montana, truckland. The truck is my roots and I've always felt such driving it. The van is foreign territory, the land of carpools and WalMart and grown-uphood. I don't care how hip those Honda commercials try to make it, the Odyssey is still a van, and vans, in my mind, have always been...well, vans. 'Nuf said.

I know this is a selfish debate, take the car that is actually nicer and holds the key to so many problems, or keep what I perceive as the hipper option and continue suffering. If you're reading this, comment, give me some sanity and perspective. I already know the only good answer, I just don't want to accept it. Expect an update when the final decision is made, and thanks for listening to my selfish banter. I just need to add an "ugh", for posterity and because ugh happens to be a fix all, I think. I feel better already actually.

Ugh.

When Words Become Superfluous...

For some reason this morning I was thinking of songs, and the way I seem to remember the seasons of my life through the lyrics. Each event, each person, each memory has a stanza, a song, a tune attached. My best friend Charley Jean, who was kind enough to share her name with my daughter, will forever be remembered in the sweet lines of John Mayer's "Not Myself", the simple notes of Dan Seal's "One Friend", and the fun bounce of LFO's "Every Other Time". I still think of my first "real" serious relationship and my senior prom when I hear Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight". For a few moments I remember the tingly sensation of being young and carried away. 50 Cent brings back fond memories of a summer long ago, Bush reminds me of living with my brother, and the strains of my grandma's favorite hymns fill my mind with the familiar clean smell of her house and the pain on my mother's face as she sang them at my father's funeral with the congregation. There's a certain nostalgia in these memories that's hard to place, a feeling that wells up when a few notes from a forgotten tune suddenly sweeps me back to place, a time, a person.

The sweetest of these of course, are the songs that bring me the warm comfort of Evan. Some fun and light, some seemingly sad, but each a little piece of my life with the man I love. The first time we danced to Oasis's "Wonderwall", the first summer of Fabolous and "So Into You", and my favorite of all the favorites, the song that he still sings to me, the song that will be his even after he's gone, and that sometimes makes me cry when I hear it because simply thinking of how much I love him becomes too much: Seether and Amy Lee singing "Broken". It's hauntingly beautiful to me. It makes me realize how much we've come through, and how very much he loves me. And so, for your viewing pleasure this morning, I present...

Broken

I wanted you to know

I love the way you laugh

I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away

I keep your photograph,

I know it serves me well

I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

'Cause I'm broken when I'm open

And I don't feel like I am strong enough

'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome

And I don't feel right when you're gone away

The worst is over now and we can breathe again

I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away

There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight

I wanna hold you high and steal your pain[x2]

'Cause I'm broken when I'm open

And I don't feel like I am strong enough

'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome

And I don't feel right when you're gone away

Sprinklewhistle

The flu that has gripped our house for the better part of a week is making its way out of the door into the crisp spring air. It was a week of exhaustion, cranky kids, more body fluids than I care to remember, and many, many cuddles. This is just one of the scenes that played itself out repeatedly, in this case, Ely sling style in the mei tai sleeping.Sharkbait and the Bean, known to most as Aidyn and Ely, have bright shiny faces again, and are, even as I type, running pell mell in all directions of the house. The wellness came not a moment too soon as we gear up this weekend to finish up the garage. This weekend will be a giant push toward completeness, with *hopefully* only the concrete floor remaining to do. My part will be mostly feeding the large number of males who will be hammering, sawing, and drilling away. And for my blog, this close to completeness has me organizing photos and planning the huge before and after post. This garage and fence and backyard building project has been such a major part of life for us that it just wouldn't seem quite right to pass it by without a tribute to it somewhere in the pages of this blog that marks the fast march of days in my life.

Another milestone, not quite so huge or grand, is the passing of my cherry chocolate cell phone. It's been a friend for almost two years, the coolest phone I'd ever owned. Unfortunatly, of late, my little cellie has taken to random prank calls. I will go to pick it up to find it calling a number picked at its own leisure from my phonebook or else get calls "back" from people I never called to begin with. (Sorry Steve!) And so, the chocolate is gone, and has been replaced with none other than......the LG Voyager! Yes, my friends, yes. The coolest of the cool cell phones of this year is now in my possession. Its sleek, its fun, it lets me text up a storm. I, of course, am in love. I need to name it, it can't bear its slave name forever. I'm leaning towards Snickerdoodle. I was also lucky enough to get the new Jawbone bluetooth headset, which I'm sure will save me from the many tickets I was sure to get with the new cell phone law now in effect in Washington. I will leave you with a picture of my new toys, in a lovely pink hue. Caio!

A Pleasant Conversation Between Myself and Insanity

This was an email I wrote to Evan the other day (Friday to be exact, the day I posted about the start of the flu in our house with Aidyn's spectacular show of vomit) in answer to his question of how my morning was going. He said he got quite a giggle (a very manly giggle I'm sure) out of it, and I thought I'd repost it here so you can get a look at a typical morning around this house from my point of view.

A rundown of my morning:
Got dressed.
Got Aidyn dressed.
Spent 15 minutes stripping bed and putting bedding in washer. Had to move white load from two days ago that I forgot into dryer.
Came upstairs and fixed the kids tea (per Aid's request) and hot cereal.
Ate.
Blogged.
Spent another half an hour painstakingly removing cereal from Ely, her dishes, the table, her chair, the floor, and her hair.
Did dishes.
Decided to take advantage of kids watching tv so nicely and go clean our room.
Was putting away five baskets of laundry piled mindlessly around room when the sound 300 beads scattering in all directions on the table reached my ears.
Punished children sitting on kitchen table trying to pretend they had no idea why beads were everywhere.
Picked up 287 beads, decided I could care less about the rest.
Went back to room, stripped our bed, carried downstairs to wash.
Discovered I forgot to turn on dryer and thus, couldn't move Aidyn's sheets over yet.
Turned it on while swearing and dropping our sheets on the floor.
Came back upstairs, finished up laundry, came into living room.
Discovered open purse with contents strewed in a trail that led to baby girl sitting in cat bed with my ipod and a tube of lipstick. An empty tube of lipstick.
Spent next half hour cleaning favorite shade of lipstick from the crevices and ear bud hole of ipod.
Decided maybe I didn't like the color so much anymore.
Threw away empty lipstick, picked up 14 tissues left from cleaning ipod, and stashed contents of my purse back in.
Discovered where the other half of the lipstick went.
Took everything back out, cleaned out inside of purse smeared with now hated lipstick, and restashed everything back in.
Turned around to throw away garbage and stepped in puddle of Bella pee.
Swore some more and locked her in her crate while I cleaned it up.
Went into livingroom and began to put away random toys that had been dragged out this morning.
Was tackled from behind by 24 pounds of twisted steel and snot known as Ely.
Finished picking up toys with Ely hanging from my neck giggling madly.
Finally pried baby girl off to realize that she had taken off her diaper cover and peed her prefold. My shirt bore the evidence.
Changed shirt, swore some more.
Came out of room to find the cat's head in one child's hands, it's tail in another's. Fight over who should hold kitty in full swing complete with yelling, hitting, and the cat being stretched like some medival torture method.
Extracted cat, pried apart kids, instituted timeout.
Turned on favorite tv show for kids, sat down, and was cheered to see your name in my inbox.
Started writing about my day and decided some of it was rather funny after all.
Decided I love my life regardless of the puddles of pee and scattered beads.
Thought about you.
Contemplated hitting send.
Was tackled from one chair over by Ely, and discovered once again that lack of diaper cover and mommy's shirt don't mix.
Decided I best push send now while I have a chance and then go change my shirt....again.

The Plague!

This is just a quick note to keep ya'll updated and explain why I haven't been on this weekend.

My house has been taken over by the flu bug. It started with Aidyn around the time of my last post. Yesterday in the grocery store Ely gave into it in the dairy aisle in a splendid display that landed all over her father's shirt. This morning I woke up to an empty bed and the sounds of the bathroom fan and throwing up and realized I am the last one standing.

Needless to say, I may be out of commission for the next few days as I care for my family. Send us some well vibes!

That's Just the Way I Roll

So last night my son had the first puking of his big boy career. The baby spit ups and the toddler pukies are slightly different in my opinion. Sometime during the night he vomitted all over himself and his bed, and somehow managed to roll over and go back to sleep. This morning when Ev heard him cry, he went to see what was wrong and found him in the midst of crusty Aidyn-stomach-soup. Lovely.

We brought him in the shower with us and attempted to get the random bits clinging to him all of. One of his ears was full of it, it was all over his hair and neck, and some little flecks stuck to his hands and arms. He seemed to be pretty okay regardless, a little more subdued than normal, but told me his stomach didn't hurt. Perhaps it was the day filled with not a lot of good healthy food and too much running around. Why were we running around?


Because Evan's sister Amber finally had her baby! Turner Daniel arrived just after three yesterday afternoon, coming into this world weighing eight pounds one ounce and measuring 19 inches. We spent the evening at the hospital enjoying the newest addition in our family. As I held him and smelled his sweet baby freshness, I imagined Christmases years from now when the little cousins would play together, Easters spent hunting eggs together, and sleepovers in the backyard. B-E-A-Utiful.


My newest knitting project, a beanie for Evan, is coming along. I'm making it out of the leftover wool yarn from Turner's soaker and hat set. Speaking of yarn, I ordered eight skeins of the most gorgeous yarn from a 100purewool co-op. The colors are truly beautiful, I cannot wait to see them! I also ordered two skeins of undyed, so that I can test it in some kool-aid and see what kind of colors I get.

Well, that about sums up the most recent events. This weekend the poles for our garage will be set in concrete, and sometime next week the foundation will be poured and the framing will start going up. I will try to get on here and post as I find time!

Wool in my Hands...

A phenomenon is occurring in my house at this very moment, something I can't entirely explain and that happened without a conscious effort on my part. Somewhere, in my quest of peace and a better way, I stopped thinking and the miraculous started. In the small nooks and corners of my house, as if sprouting from the surfaces they lie and finding themselves looking at home, are the projects that have been filling our days of late. They peek from behind doors, stare down from shelves, and pop out of baskets and drawers. Across from me, draped out of the basket that holds our library books is the noodle necklace Aidyn painted last week. On the couch behind me is the just started beanie I am knitting for Evan. On an end table rests a small scarf for Ely, waiting it's finishing touches. Some small beads in a glass jar sit on the table beside a newly potted tulip plant, my camera, and the small stitch markers Aidyn helped me assemble this morning out of said beads. A drawing done for Evan's birthday still graces the wall in front of the door, and I can see another peeking from a stack of bills in a letter holder. As I look around, I feel the warmth of the people who live here, the tiny touches of their love in each project. Aidyn so proud of his painting and coloring, Ely bending over my hands while to watch me put new stitches in her scarf, the joy I feel as I imagine the finished product for one I love.

When I stopped looking, my house suddenly became my home. The love is palpable, the joy an aura. The family that lives here is far from perfect, but the evidence of their repleteness is abundant. Here's wishing you a home filled with joy, love, peace and all the crafts you can handle.

Fine as Wine, In and Out

I'm married to an incredibly loving, patient, and unselfish man. He puts in long hours away from the comfort of home so I can stay tucked in it with our children. He forgives my faults (and the list is long) and is blind to my flaws. He never fails to tell me I'm beautiful or compliment how nice the house looks when he comes home. He's slow to anger, continually putting the welfare of his family ahead of his own. I can't count how many times he's put in a week filled with overtime, ready by the end of it to practically fall asleep standing up, and still spend time with me at the end of it. In the four years we've been together he's gone from silly boy to amazing man. Today, on his birthday, I'm taking the chance to highlight all the good that I sometimes forget to praise along the way. Happy Birthday Evan, I love you.

John Hancock

Forgot to mention, I finally took the time to add a little personalization to my siggy. It made it's first appearance in my last post, but to formally introduce you:

In My Place

I was just sitting here in the silence of naptime, listening to the cars and birds outside, pondering life. Not the meaning of or the trick to, simply life, as it is. The truth is, I have a longing in me. A deep longing to create, to inspire, to leave a mark; sometimes I wonder if I were to be gone tomorrow, have I really done it? I feel so inadequate at times, always seeing the best in others and the worst in myself. Recently I was browsing one of my favorite blogs, the owner of which happens to have authored a book about her family and their creative ways. I found myself wishing as I browsed her photographs that my life mirrored hers: the beautiful projects, the stream of ideas, the natural quality of it all. I quickly caught myself, of course, and had a "buck up" moment, but the longing remained all the same.

So what is it I want? I want to inspire my children to lead lives of purpose and creativity. I want to show them through my own example that life must be grabbed not watched, that every day should count, and that around every corner lies an opportunity. I want to nurture an open mind and a quick wit, a sensitive soul and a kind heart. I want them to love and savor this life. I want to show them new things, explore the world together, and I want them to know that I am always open to a new project. I want to create a haven. I want our home to be simple, uncluttered and serene, but filled with objects of purpose and beauty. I want all who walk through my door to feel relaxed and at home. I want to be my husband's biggest ally, his anchor, and his love. I want to always show him the respect and love that he shows me. I want to take care of what has been given to me in the largest possible way. I want to quit looking over the next hill and be content in this valley of my life. Most of all, I want the happiness that I feel in my heart to be palpable to those around me, so that it rubs off on all I come in contact with.

Not asking much, am I? I have a start; I have a vision. It's about letting go of the unnecessary and learning how to accomplish that which is. I've slowly been putting the pieces together, and I trust in time I will have the above. I won't need to read into the lives of others and hope, because I will have to look no further than my own front door to find what fulfills me.

In my place, in my place,

Were lines that I couldn't change,

I was lost, oh yeah.

I was lost, I was lost,

Crossed lines I shouldn't have crossed,

I was lost, oh yeah.

And yeah, how long must you wait for it?

Yeah, how long must you pay for it?

Yeah, how long must you wait for it?

I was scared, I was scared,

Tired and under prepared,

But I wait for it.

And if you go, if you go,

Leave me down here on my own,

Then I'll wait for you, yeah.

Yeah, how long must you wait for it?

Yeah, how long must you pay for it?

Yeah, how long must you wait for it?

Oh for it

Sing it please, please, please,

Come back and sing to me,

To me, me.

Come on and sing it out, now, now.

Come on and sing it out

To me, me

Come on and sing.

In my place, in my place,

Were lines that I couldn't change,

I was lost, oh yeah.

Oh yeah.