Monday, December 22, 2008

Even More Pictures

Don't be alarmed but there are more pictures I want to post. It's must concern some of you since in the past I've been berated for not posting more pictures. The difference is the equipment I'm using now. Now I post using Ryan's computer because I can just pop the memory stick into the laptop... that and I finally figured out how to add more than one photo at a time thereby saving a lot of time....

One hot snow w-o-m-a-n! Or is it one 'cool' snow woman?


The grounds of a local hall.


O Tannenbaum! O Tannenbaum! Du gruenst nicht nur zur Sommerzeit, nein auch im Winter wenn es Schneit.
(Translation: O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree! You are green not only in summer, no, also in winter when it snows).
(don't correct my German - this is how I remember it from German I learned in
High School, many, many years ago).



Looking down the sidewalk on my homeward approach.



A view of the wading pool I took Gavin to this summer.



Same wading pool, different angle.



White snow, red berries, green leaves. How could I not take a picture?



Car stuck in snow drift in middle of the street.
One reason I don't drive in the snow.



Car burning rubber trying to leave parking space. Car continued burning rubber as it tried to drive down the street. Another reason I don't drive in the snow (burning rubber plus people like me taking a picture of embarrassing moment and the crowd of gawkers making sure you don't hit a parked car and run).


A Few More Pictures

This is a shot of our alley that Ryan took. It reminds me of our mini vacation in Whistler, B.C. we took a few years with a group of friends.



A view from the front door around 7:30 this morning. Isn't it so pretty? The dog containment system (a.k.a. fence) is just lovely all covered in snow.


Our back yard - big by city standards; microscopic as compared to the yards Ryan and I grew up with.


Another shot of the back yard. It's hard to believe this snow covered yard was a 15'+ crater from October '07 to Spring '08. I measured 9" of snow in the back yard a few minutes ago. Christmas in Belfair (where they have 15" - 18" of snow) seems less and less likely.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Snow and Gavin Pics

My handsome boys.

Partial view of the front yard from the living room.



Bundled back up after his doctor appointment and ready for the long walk back home.


Doggy Claus. She was so good to sit still for this photo.


A snowcat we saw on our way back from Gavin's doctor appointment.


Gavin's favorite book this week: "Go, Dog. Go!" We read it over and over and over and ...



He's just so darn cute!
Playing with his CAT from Great Aunt Paulette



Loves from the doggy.



Friday, December 19, 2008

Little House on the Prairie

Saturday

We are still snowed in up here in our little neighborhood in Seattle. Some cars braved the icy roads up here but they almost all had chains - and the buses were running - at least they were running better than they were yesterday (exception: http://seeheidirun.blogspot.com/2008/12/bad-day-to-be-bus-driver.html). With the snow in a city like Seattle where we get very little snow and have so many hills everyone takes a snow day.

Yesterday I went for a walk to a children's consignment shop in the late afternoon to buy Gavin some mittens. I could not believe how many people were out and about. Most people that were going my direction we returning from the grocery store and I bet everyone walking the other direction were going to the store. Even the local bar was packed with people - I never see anyone in that joint. It felt a little Norman Rockwell-ish to have see so many people walking about in the snow.

Unfortunately Gavin has been sick. He went to see his doctor last week but he got better then worse then better until last night his ears were full of gunk. This morning I called his doctor and she suggested that he be seen but she couldn't get to her office and we certainly couldn't drive to her office in West Seattle so I called a local clinic to schedule an appointment because we couldn't risk Gavin getting worse over the weekend - it would be at least an hours walk the to the ER. After being on hold for 20 minutes because the clinic was understaffed Gavin had an appointment with a pediatrician. The receptionist tried to give us an appointment time only a half hour away so I had to ask for something a little later to give us time to get there.

It took about 10 minutes just to get Gavin ready for our long walk to the doctor. He was layered in pajamas, a sweatshirt, a pair of pants, shoes, a coat, mittens and a hat. Then we had to squeeze him into his stroller and wrap him up with a blanket. Then we were off stomping through the snow and sliding on the icy sidewalks for twenty-five minutes until we reached the clinic. I felt a bit like Laura Ingalls-Wilder from Little House on the Prairie, bundling up my family to take my sick child to the doctor.

The doctor said Gavin ruptured both eardrums but as a result he was no longer in pain which would explain why he slept better last night. Don't you worry about the little G, though. The doc said 98% of these cases heal normally in about a month and to prevent further infection until he is healed he is getting a 10 day treatment of oral antibiotics and a 7 day treatment of antibiotic ear drops.

Sunday

Last night some friends braved the snow and ice to come to our house for games and dessert. We are so much fun they risked life and limb to spend a few hours with us. OR they are originally from Montana and driving in the snow is old hat for them. I think it is the latter. Although, I do think we are a hoot.

The snow started up again last night and hasn't let up since. I measured the snow late last night. We had 3 inches of new snow last night and a total accumulation of 7.75" that I measured on top of the car. I am not hopeful that we will be able to leave for Christmas to spend with Ryan's family. Ryan's dad & step-mom are still coming over from Wenatchee but they have a vehicle that can handle the snow and they are accustomed to driving in it.

As beautiful as this snow is I wish it would melt already! I do not like being forced to stay at home. If we lived in our house in West Seattle still I would have gone completely bonkers by now as there is very little within walking distance to that house other than the Delridge mini mart, Uptown Espresso and Subway. In our current neighborhood we have a grocery store, a medical clinic with a pharmacy, two coffee joints, a mail center, 2 Mexican restaurants, a Filipino restaurant, a bar, a children's consignment shop, a very small clothing store, two tailors, a dry cleaners, 2 Mexican miscellaneous stores (I've only been inside one when I was on the prowl for a pinata - no dice - but the Italian bakery down the hill had a ton to choose from)... oh, and we have two gas stations but those aren't doing us any good since we aren't driving. I guess I'm mostly upset because I can't visit my friends. I've had to miss 2 bible studies and a PEPS (my mom's group) because of the blasted snow and I STILL haven't met little baby Rylan. Katie (Rylan's mom) met Gavin hours after he was born and now I have to wait weeks to meet Rylan! Not fair.

Stupid snow.

Hmpf. I suppose I should just enjoy the snow since I can't do anything about it. Ryan has tried doing something about it a couple of times by shoveling the stairs and walk way. Each time he does the snow starts back up with in an hour or two and all of his hard work is covered up by snow again. I think it is hilarious but Ryan doesn't see the humor in it like I do.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

The Great Blizzard of '08

A few pictures for your viewing pleasure....

Gavin telling us he was not into the layers (2 sets of pajamas, pants, and coat) and the 10x too big shoes (the 2 sets of jammies made his regular shoes a tight squeeze).



I snagged a couple of passersby walking their dog to take our picture.


Snowman in the triangle park.

**** after closer inspection of this photo it has been deleted for questionable stick placement. Apparently the creator of the snowman (teenager or really immature man) paid homage to the 'man' portion of the snowman. ****


Our little house looking kind of cute with all of the snow. The exterior of our house is my least favorite part of the house so any help it gets I like.


Christmas Freak Out Update

Last month I was freaking out about cooking a holiday meal for the family. I blathered on about linens and pies and sides and the bird. A couple of people have asked me if I've made any decisions about the dinner and if I'm still freaking out.

Decisions? Eh, I suppose I've made some decisions. First decision, napkins. I bought some new cloth napkins at Ikea. I washed them and now they are sitting in a pile waiting to be ironed. Lesson: buy paper napkins, they don't need to be ironed.

My second decision was to make a table cloth because I couldn't find one I liked at BB&B or Target. My conclusion about making a table cloth? Lame. Why? Sure, all I have to do is the hem the edges but still, it is one more thing to do.

I think that is as far as I went with the decisions unless you count deciding to stop freaking out a decision. Well, I quit freaking out about food but I'm still gearing up to be completely rattled by Monday about the guest quarters. The basement is going to need to be thoroughly vacuumed as the cats have shed copious amounts of fur all over the carpet and furniture. On top of all of the cat fur is all of the stuff from the office that is spilling out into the living area since Ryan has been cleaning out that space and all of the Christmas bins which are stored in the office are of course piled high in the living area. I can't clean until the floor is clear. OK. Forget Monday; I'm worked up now.

***
I had a dream earlier this evening that is related to my dirty basement. My very pregnant friend Heather stopped by my house so we could carpool to visit our other friend Katie who just had a baby. Heather who was due on Monday, was at my house when her water broke. It wouldn't have been a big deal but the roads were icy so she had to stay at my house to deliver her baby. I wasn't freaking about delivering a baby but I was freaking about not having vacuumed the area because Heather is allergic to cats.
***

Work has been kind of slow for Ryan so he should have some time to clean the office and living area downstairs next week. Then when he is done with his version of cleaning I can start with mine. Ryan and I complement each other very nicely when we do decide to clean. He takes care of the piles of stuff and I do the actual cleaning - vacuuming, dusting, washing.

One last note about the Christmas Freak Out. When I wrote about it in November I wrote how in my 30 years on this earth I've never hosted a holiday meal. No one caught it - this is my 31st year on planet earth and it is the tail end of said year. But why would anyone argue with me? If anyone knows my age it should be me.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Snow Falling Up

My first experience with snow was a pretty lame one; we lived on the southern Oregon coast and it didn't really ever snow there. One year it got cold enough for a few minutes to turn the lightly falling rain into snow. We (a number of aunts, uncles and cousins) were all at my grandma and grandpa's house when the snow started. I don't remember if I was excited or not but I do remember the older cousins being excited. We bundled up and and walked to the nearby elementary school to play on their playground. By time we walked the short distance to the school the accumulation was at its peak - some where right around nil. The best place to see the snow was on the black mat that the swing set was mounted on. You could see a bit of white stuff on top of it. There wasn't enough to even make a snowball. Like I said, it was lame.

Five or so years later is when I really got to experience snow. My family moved to Vancouver (in Washington, the state - a subject for another post: Why do people who live east of Idaho call Washington DC plain old Washington but tack on 'state' for Washington as in Washington State - why not call the state of Washington just 'Washington', tack on DC for Washington DC. We don't say New Jersey State, or North Dakota State or Rhode Island State).

Back to the snow...

It could get quite cold in Vancouver in the winter. My first winter there was bitterly cold; the transition from the mild climate of the coast to Vancouver with its harsh east wind that sucked all of the moisture out of the air was quite a shock to my system; my hands would get so dry they would crack and bleed. I seem to remember school being closed on one or two occasions because it was so cold, I think they didn't want kids standing outside waiting for the bus. The snow when it was that cold was no good, dry flaky stuff that wouldn't stick together. Fortunately we didn't get much snow like that. We usually had one or two good snowfalls a year, and by good I mean a few inches to blanket everything.

Those snowfalls were, at the expense of sounding corny, magical. If the snow started in the late afternoon or evening I would constantly peer out the window to gauge how much was falling, how much was sticking and if it added up to a lot falling + a lot sticking I would hope and pray that school would be cancelled the next day. Sometimes when it was obvious there would be no school the next day Mom and Dad would let us go outside to play in the new fallen snow. The memories of playing in the snow in the still of the night are some of my most treasured.

As the snow fell from the dark sky it created a white ethereal playground. My neighborhood was transformed into a beautiful dream scape as gray streets disappeared under a fluffy blanket of snow, houses turned into gingerbread houses with frosted roofs and puffing chimneys and my favorite - the evergreen tree boughs hung low, draped with snow.

Everything is quieter in the snow. Cars aren't zipping up and down and what sound is being created is dampened by the blanket of snow. All you could hear was our feet crunching in the snow and our whispers to each other - yelling would have to wait for daylight. Mom always had a big pot of hot cocoa on the stove for us when we came inside to thaw.

As the years went on I still loved the snow. On snow days I babysat the neighbor girl, Rachel Pulver (who is now 25 or 26). Her house was a cool ranch house, it looked small from the outside but it was deceptively large. My favorite part about her house were the floor to ceiling windows. I would lay on my back on the floor near a heat vent and stare at the sky, watching the snow fall up.

Of course as I got older snow days became my little romantic escapes. I always day dreamed of the cute boy I had a crush on that week taking me on a walk through the snow and kissing me. Alas, that never happened. I suppose I could beg Ryan take me on a walk when it snows but somehow I don't think carrying Gavin and wrestling with the dog would be all that romantic. Fun, yes. Romantic, no. Some dreams born in the eigth grade just never die.

Two or three inches of snow fell on Saturday night. My first thought was, "I hope it doesn't stick." I was really looking forward to going to church but the snow put the kibosh on those plans. My second thought was, "I hope our pipes don't freeze." My third thought was, "I hope the homeless don't freeze." Somewhere after 5 but before 10 thoughts was, "Ooh, it's so pretty."

Since Gavin had a cold we didn't take him out in the snow - we've been laying low. We took him out in the snow last year, bundled up in his car seat. Since he wasn't really aware of his own hands it wasn't that exciting for him, or for us. The year before that was the last year I recall getting excited about the snow. I was excited for one reason: Snow Day.

I lived on a hill and worked on a hill and between work and home was a very large valley. There was no way to get to work without going down some nasty hills - heck, some of these hills are problematic when it is just raining. I got a couple of days off work because my street was a sheet of ice. I loved every icy minute that I had off work.

More snow is coming which in years past would have put me over the moon at the mere thought of having a true white Christmas I must face the fact that while I am young (although according to my nephew Matthew I'm old), almost 32, I'm not as young as I once was - I want a safe green Christmas. The days of giddiness over snow are over. I just hope that I will be able to share in Gavin's joy when he is older and is doing the please-let-school-be-cancelled-dance as he listens to the radio DJ's rattling off the list of school closures.

Friday, December 05, 2008

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Wanderlust

I've read that some breeds of dogs are great escape artists. Since we have no means of containment Kea has become a wanderer; calling her an escape artist would imply she had to do more than walk away.

And she did. She must have had a grand old time sniffing whatever she wanted for as long as she wanted without me hurrying her. In the book, "Great Dogs, Good Owners" the author calls all of the sniffing "reading the doggy newspaper." Kea loves her some reading.

So our beloved super happy, super wiggly yellow doggy decided this morning would be a good one to freak me out. Ryan went to Lowe's to get something for some home project and on his way out the door he told me he was letting the dog out and to remember to let her back in. Sure thing. About 5 minutes later I went to the front door and poked my head out called her name. Nothing. I called again. Nothing.

I wasn't phased at this point. She likes to poke around the yard and is super slow to come inside. I figured I would catch her being naughty so I walked down the stairs in my bare feet to the sidewalk and over to the alley to see if I could catch her in the act of leaving the front yard.

There was no guilty looking dog in the alley, no dog in the side yard and no dog in the back yard. Uh-oh.

I dashed inside and put on some shoes, grabbed my cell phone and put Gavin in the Ergo baby carrier. Off we went, me in my grungy pink lounge pants and class of '95 ratty sweatshirt, to find the dog.

"Kea!" "Kea!" "Kea!"

Everyone who passed me or was within shouting distance was asked if they saw a yellow dog wandering around. Nope.

Since Ryan left his phone at home I called Lowe's and asked them to page him and have him call home. After what felt like an eternity Ryan called me and I broke the news that Kea was gone. He came home just as Gavin and I were walking back up our street. I hopped on-line and went to petfinder.com, findfido.com and missingpets.com and craigslist. I posted to all three, sent out a duplicate message to my neighborhood listserv and called my vet to have them activate her microchip.

I was getting ready to go to Staples to print out a bundle of flyers when a neighbor 6 blocks away called to tell us they had Kea. Thank God for the tags on her collar! From the time I realized she was gone until she was located was a little over an hour. One very long hour.

Whew.

An hour after that Ryan was at Lowe's buying material for a fence. He's outside installing it right now. Try escaping now, my little doggy!

Friday, November 21, 2008

Shattered Hearts


I learned of a little boy at my former church that has terminal cancer. All of his treatments failed. The cancer is in his brain and it is growing so fast that it was noticeably larger from a scan he had in the evening to a scan the next morning. His doctors said medicine wasn't going to help him anymore so now he is on hospice; he was given only a few days to live at the end of October.

Little Ben Towne is only 3 years old. He is hanging on but is heavily drugged to keep the pain at bay or to make it tolerable; I'm not sure. I don't know the family other than seeing the father, a pastor at the church, speak a few times. Even though I don't know them and have never met little Ben I frequent the website their hospital has set up for them in hopes of an update and while I'm reading I cry and cry and cry. I brace myself for the worst but so far there have been few updates - he is alive but is obviously deteriorating. I don't know how his parents are making it through each day other than to spend every last second they can with their sweet baby.

What would Ryan and I do in this situation? Ryan would quit his job and we would sell this house and we would move into our rental and live off of our savings so we could spend every last second with our baby. I would sell my wedding ring, our TV, our furniture - what ever it would take to get a cure. What would have any value if your baby died?

I pray at night while I'm nursing Gavin at bedtime for little Ben. I pray that God will eat his cancer. Every time I pray for Ben I ask God to eat the cancer. I don't know why I think of Him eating it. Maybe it's because it is so tucked away that only God can get to it? The only thing that will save Ben now is the hand of God. I keep thinking, "What are you waiting for, God? Just heal him already! Please!" Then I hold Gavin a little closer and pray that God keeps him healthy and whole.

The church I was raised in taught us that we are in control of our own lives. If we get sick it could be from an attack from Satan or we could have brought it on ourselves through our own lack of faith. We are also capable of being healed through our faith - we tell God to heal us then if we believe with 100% unwavering faith then we will be healed. If our faith wavered for even a nanosecond then we would have to start all over.

I now believe that theology is wrong, wrong, wrong and that it has warped my view of God and myself. I don't know what I would do if something were to happen to my children. Would I blame myself? Would I think it was because of something I did or said? Or have I been out of that place long enough to see the truth?

Here is what I've learned from reading the bible: God can and will heal the sick. And God can not heal the sick. Good people can die young and evil people can live to be old. Life isn't fair; God never promised us a fair life; He did promise to love us and to give us eternal life with Him at the end of the life He gives to us.

What am I doing? I didn't write this to attack my former church but I can't write about illness and not dredge up those ways of thinking that were beat into me for so many years. Also, when something dire happens like is happening with Ben I want to believe what they taught me all of those years that if we pray long enough and hard enough and sincere enough that he will be healed. Because if I do all of that then Ben will live.

I do pray. I pray and I hope that God will answer this prayer for Ben's life to be spared. Thousands have prayed for him and thousands continue to pray; will you join in the fight? Will you pray for little Ben Towne? Will you, in your own way, ask God eat Ben's cancer?

Thursday, November 20, 2008

8

If you were quite enough this morning, around 7:57 Pacific Time, you may have heard the faint singing of a chorus of heavenly angels. The sound of the heavenly hosts singing Handel's Messiah had a long way to reach our earthly ears but to hear them singing, "King of kings!... and Lord of lords!... and he shall reign, and he shall reign... forever and ever!" in the wonderful answer and call between the men and the women was as sweet as could be. Ah, it brings such a smile to my face. Their beautiful voices fell from Heaven and pierced the dazzling blue sky dotted with white fluffy clouds to make my morning much more joyful.

OK. It was dark, gray and a bit gloomy and threatening to rain but it could have been raining cats and dogs and my happiness would not have wavered, not even a bit for I was well rested and it was at 7:57 am that I heard the contended sounds of my baby sweetly babbling to his plush doggy over the baby monitor. What a way to wake up. No harsh alarms and no screaming baby to jar me awake just his cute baby voice talking to wake me. And when I did awake I realized I wasn't tired and I felt rested. Well rested! Me! Rested!

Do you hear me world?! I was well rested! Slumber, sweet, sweet slumber was my friend for EIGHT hours last night. My old friend, Slumber, has not been visiting me recently - he has been gone since March. He was busy elsewhere and sent a work associate, Grumpy Pants the Stingy Sandman, to visit my baby. Well, Grumpy Pants the Stingy Sandman and Slumber can not co-exist in the same household; where one is present you will surely not find the other. For some unknown reason Grumpy Pants the Stingy Sandman decided to take a hiatus for a couple of days this week and Slumber made friends with Gavin and re-kindled our friendship in the process.

I know that Grumpy Pants the Stingy Sandman will be back and kick Slumber out of the house again but I do not know when. Will it be tonight? Or will it be when Gavin has molars erupting or maybe when he has a cold or learns about monsters (or the shadows that look like monsters). Until he returns am going to make the most of my time with Slumber.

It is my earnest prayer that Grumpy Pants the Stingy Sandman stays away for a long, long time.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Water Torture

There are many things I like about my house. It is cute as a button. I like that. It has period charm. I like that. It has fantastic crown molding and large baseboards. I like that. It has vibrant colors that pop against the stark white moldings. I like that. It has a beautiful kitchen with lovely counter tops and a pot rack. I like that.

There are a few things I'm not so crazy about, too. It has a small kitchen. I don't like that. It has an unfinished stairway/stairwell leading to the basement. I don't like that. The basement has low ceilings. I don't like that. The floors are kinda sloped in the basement. I don't like that.

There is one thing I hate about my house. And I mean h-a-t-e. Hate. The original 1927wood gutters. After 81 years of service they have seen better days. The downspouts were updated sometime in the previous century but they are still rusted out, rickety things that don't all connect with the gutters. The fascia board on the front of the house is rotted and it leaks. It looks like crap. But its appearance is the least of the things I hate about the gutters; it is the leak that makes me scowl and clench my jaws.

For 3 long years I have had an extra reason to hate winter (and spring and fall if I'm being honest). It is that cursed leak that is located right in front of the front door. Yep. You can't step inside or outside without getting dripped on. When it is a downpour you can't tell the difference between the drops from the gutter and the rain but when the rain is gone and the water from the ancient gutters has seeped in the fascia board and is pooled up there slowly emptying its reservoir drop by enormous drop you notice.

Long after the rain subsides you venture outside and *SPLAT* a big fat drop hits you on the forehead and splashes onto your glasses as you cross the threshold onto the front step. You turn around on the front step to lock the door and *SPLAT* a big fat wet drop hits your arm and goes through your wool sweater, creating a nice itchy spot. You come home with your arms full of groceries and *SPLAT* *SPLAT* *SPLAT* it gets your right arm as you unlock the door and then your left ear as you adjust the groceries on your hip and then on your forehead as you pass under it. And as the water drips down your face you seethe.

And then three years later you've both had enough of it and call someone to come out and give a quote on replacing the gutters.

Ding-dong the gutters are dead! A guy came out today and ripped them off along with some rotten fascia boards. Tomorrow he comes to put up new gutters and new fascia board.

This makes me so very, very happy. No more water falling on my head. No more water splashing my glasses. No more water torture!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Soap Box

Today I drove a girlfriend to Gig Harbor to pick up a car; it wasn't until we hit Fife that I thought to visit my in-laws in Belfair, about 45 minutes east of Tacoma. On the way to Belfair there are a few roadside coffee stands that I always want to try but never do because I'm usually with Ryan who loathes coffee and extra stops on the way home so today was the perfect day for an extra stop.

Driving down Highway 2 through the middle of Belfair I saw the new drive through Starbucks on my right and thought that would be a decent option but ended up deciding against it because I have had Starbucks many a time and I wanted to support the little guy, the small business. Then I saw the coffee stand kitty corner to Starbucks and pulled in the queue. There was a green pick up in front of me and on the other side of the hut was another vehicle. Great, I thought, with business like this their coffee must be above the level of swill so I was eager to see what their brew was like.

After just a few moments a coffee cup was extended out the window to the driver of the green truck and he went on his merry little way. My turn! I pulled up knowing that the barista would be helping the person on the other side of the hut but I could at least look at the menu and see what they had to offer.

My eyes never made it to the menu. I looked inside the hut and the sight greeting my eyes confused me. The visual was so real but it was just so out of place that my brain had a hard time reconciling what I was seeing to reality. The coffee hut and the barista in the hut didn't go together.

You can imagine what ran through my mind when I saw the barista's uniform was not a t-shirt or polo with the compulsory black apron but a bra. Yep. A bra. An off-white, pristine, embroidered bra. I sat there, stunned and stared at her. Then I collected myself and drove to Starbucks.

There has been much to do in the smaller outlying areas about the bikini clad baristas, some stands going so far as to go topless with just pasties to cover their nipples. I understand that the barista gets better tips when she is dressed more provocatively and even better when wearing a bikini top and even better when wearing a bra and even better when wearing pasties and I bet they would be out of this world without the pasties. Why not call a spade a spade and go strip for money? What's the difference? Is it more respectable to stand in a hut in the middle of the day and make coffee half naked for money versus dancing half naked for money?

In the past I've commented on the belief that Americans are puritanical in their views related to nudity. Yeah, we are a bit prudish when it comes to nudity relatively speaking (uptight by European standards but loose by standards set by Muslim people). Maybe we wouldn't be so uptight about nudity if what was portrayed in the media was de-sexualized. I don't think many people have a problem with seeing the naked human form when it is depicted in non-sexual ways and when a 'real' body is shown. Hugh Hefner can talk all he wants about how natural and beautiful the girls in Playboy are but we all know they are not real. Nothing about them is real. Not their platinum blond hair, their ginormous boobs or their airbrushed skin. Would Playboy have been as great a seller if they showed the average American woman, a little over weight, normal hair and skin? What if the women weren't in provocative poses? What if they showed a dumpy naked man? Oh, wait I forgot, if we are puritanical about the naked female we are over the moon about a naked man. God forbid someone should see a penis.

I have family who are in love with the idyllic notion of Smalltown America. It is a place where people whistle the tune to the Andy Griffith show and men tip their hats at the ladies and the ladies bake bread and cookies for new neighbors and everyone goes to the little white washed church on Sunday. I wonder what this family member would think of the naked barista in the very small town of Belfair.

Sunday, November 09, 2008

Walking

After church on the long walk from the armory to the parking lot Gavin walked between me and Ryan one chubby hand clutching one of his daddy's fingers and the other chubby hand clutching one his mommy's fingers. His smile seemed to grow wider with each stomp of his cute feet clad in laced up blue sneakers. Ryan and I smiled wide, too; proud of our little toddler toddling along. I turned to Ryan and said, "Who knew just walking to the car with our son could be so much fun?"

Really. Walking to the car was a blast. Some other things I've done that come close to as much fun as we had today:

- flying 300 feet over canyons and tree tops in Mexico on a zip line
- riding a bike at night on the crazy streets of Paris in a caravan of 30 other bicyclists
- touring the Vatican with Ryan
- playing with sting rays in the Grand Caymans
- eating the best ever spaghetti ragu with Ryan while watching the sun set on the Mediterranean in a town of Cinque Terra
- getting lost with Ryan in Venice (it so much fun to be anywhere Ryan-my-brain-is-a-map-Jahns can get lost)

That's all I wanted to write about. Being a parent is so much fun. I imagine that the fun will continue even as he gets older and more adventurous - even when he is a teenager. Hopefully the fun won't revolve around Gavin walking, though.

Friday, November 07, 2008

My First Christmas

OK, technically its my 30th Christmas on God's green earth but its my first Christmas to host. Oh the excitement! Oh, the terror!

Here it is early November and I'm already thinking about what I'm going to do for dinner. Turkey or prime rib? Mashed potatoes and candied yams? Fruit salad the way my family does it or the way Ryan's family does it? Bread or rolls? Cranberry jelly or no cranberry jelly? Canned cranberry jelly or homemade cranberry jelly? (Home made cranberry jelly is more high brow but it doesn't make the cool slurrrr-plop sound like the canned stuff does). Chocolate pie, pumpkin or pecan pie? Do I make bread pudding like Ryan's family does every year so we can light it on fire with brandy and eat it with hard sauce?

Those are just the questions about food. What about linens? Will the one table cloth we have do? Is it stained with sap from the years we used it as a makeshift tree skirt for our mini Christmas tree we hoisted on an old metal secretaries desk when Kea was a puppy? Do I try to make a pretty centerpiece for the table or do I buy one? Do I forgo the centerpiece and use the pretty silver candle sticks? Will people burn themselves if they pass dishes over the candles? But is it really my fault if people play with fire? Do I buy napkin rings? Do I make napkin rings like Martha Stewart? Are napkin rings the most useless item on the face of the planet? Do I iron the cloth napkins? Do I buy new napkins because the off-white linen ones we have now are bit casual? Am I completely crazy for thinking about buying new napkins when so many people out there would be happy with a meal from McDonald's on Christmas just because the perfectly nice and functional napkins I do have aren't pretty enough?

Am I really crazy because in all likelihood it will be me, Ryan, Gavin and Ryan's dad and step-mom for dinner? I would like to invite more people but until we have a familial head count I can't because we have a small space in which to host a sit down meal.

There is one thing I don't have a question about: china. Not China but china. Ryan's aunt and uncle give us a part of a Christmas collection of china every year as a gift. The motif is the "Christmas Story". Each plate, cup, bowl has a line from the story on it. They are beyond cute and this year we will get to use them all! I'm so excited to be able to use them at a dinner party! If we end up having more people than we have enough place settings of the cute Christmas china then I will support the economy and buy a few plates that will match but can be used off-season as well as to not make them a completely frivolous purchase.

There is so much to be done between now and Christmas! Aside from making the guest room inhabitable I have to learn how to bake a pie, make bread pudding and hard sauce and once I figure out the menu I have to learn how to cook a turkey (or prime rib) and stuffing and all of the sides and learn how to make sure they are all done at the same time! Yowza.

I think a trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond is in order. I need a lot of timers.

Boo Bees

Since no one braved a guess from the last picture on the Halloween post the picture below 'spells' the word boobies (boo bees).


Doggy

There are no words to completely describe how incredibly adorable this moment I'm going to share with you was.

It was midnight and I was tired. Gavin started crying, "feed me! feed me!" as only he can. I flung the fluffy and warm comforter aside and shuffled to the kitchen to warm some cow's milk for him. I then shuffled to his room and erased my scowl as I opened the door to his room and replaced it with a little smile and said, "Hi, Sweetheart."

That usually elicits some excited grunting through the crying. Crying that usually does not cease until his mouth is full. As I expected he was none to pleased to see the sippy cup. Too bad. He must have been hungry because his screaming protest didn't last long and he pounded the milk; he hardly paused to breath he sucked it down so fast.

Once he had his fill he stood there in his crib, whimpering and holding onto the rail. I saw his plush doggy was on the floor so I picked it up and tossed it into the crib and turned my attention to helping Gavin back to sleep but it wasn't necessary. Gavin saw me throw the dog in and he made some cute little baby babble/grunt/statement and collapsed to his knees, turned around and flung himself onto the dog and and rubbed his face in the doggy and fell asleep.

That moment is one that I hope never fades in my mind. It was so precious.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

It Happened

Tonight is a night for the history books. It is a night when America walked the talk. We have elected a black man to be our president. My son will grow up in a country where the color divide has experienced its largest set back.

I cannot believe that I get to be part of such a positive, momentous event. These kinds of events are so few and far between that we only get a handful per lifetime.

Monday, November 03, 2008

No More Nickel For Me

I had the last two screws taken out of my foot today! I am titanium and nickel free! The nickel is most likely what is causing the continued swelling and discomfort in my foot. Now we can get on with the healing process.

I would post pictures of my foot and the screws but they kind of look the same although one of the screws is a little bigger than the last one - and my foot is still kind of a mess and I don't think anyone would appreciate the bloody sight. Maybe if I had the procedure on Halloween I would have posted a gross picture.

This time the doc also gave me a cortisone shot going the length of my scar as it will help shrink it from the huge red worm like thing that it is now into a faded silver gray strip of a scar. I was feeling particularly brave today and watched him take the screws out. Freaky. Even though I could watch him use a screw driver on my foot I still couldn't watch him suturing the incisions; and I peeked when he gave me the cortisone shot but had to quickly look away even though my foot was numb.

I'm supposed to take it easy to today and Gavin has helped me tremendously with his 3+ hour nap! Mommy got a two hour nap! Glorious, glorious sleep! And I changed the sheets on the bed this morning before we went to my appointment so it was just any old nap; it was a nap in a cool clean bed. If I had the time and energy to do so I would change the linens every 3rd day. Every week will have to do. Or if I'm being honest, every 10 days.

Sunday, November 02, 2008

Participation Ribbon

Do elementary schools still have Field Day? In the small coastal town where I grew up Field Day was on the last day of school. It was my favorite day of the year for two reasons: the obvious reason 1) it was the last day of school, and the surprising reason, 2) the special brown bag lunch. Mom would take us to the grocery store where we could pick out a can of soda that she would wrap in aluminum foil to keep it cold and she made our sandwich with the thin deli style sliced meat instead of regular bologna. I think we also got potato chips and a twinkie or some other delightful treat.

The winners of the 3-legged race, the potato sack run, tug of war, the egg toss and whatever other games I'm forgetting would win the coveted blue ribbon. Then there was the red ribbon and after that was the participation ribbon. You showed up and were a good sport and played the games. The games were fun, you were fun and without you the other team wouldn't have had anyone to beat so your participation was vital. For getting your behind throttled by your fellow 7 year old classmates you received a ribbon for showing up and being kind enough to come in 3rd or 4th place.

Last night I received the adult equivalent to the participation award: the Brave award. It wasn't a physical ribbon or metal trophy (thank God - I don't need a physical reminder of my bravery, the memory will do just fine, thanks).

Our friend Tyler had a birthday on Thursday. We celebrated last night with some homemade desserts by his wife Katie: a flourless chocolate cake and eclairs. D-e-c-a-d-e-n-t. After we ate birthday dessert we headed off to the Maple Leaf Chinese Restaurant; not for Chinese food, although I did order a side of barbecue pork with hot mustard that got me many, many times. We did not come for the drinks in the lounge, although I did have a White Russian and annoyed the waitress with my blank stare when she asked me what kind of vodka I wanted my drink mixed with. I dunno. She rattled off a bunch of labels and my blank stare persisted and I said, "House?" She seemed annoyed.

I decided I didn't like her.

As I slurped my White Russian I nervously looked at the big white binders on the tables in the lounge that people were thumbing through. Tyler was very carefully studying the song sheets.

Yes. We were there to karaoke.

After I ate the barbecue pork and drank the White Russian I was still nervous. Not quite ready to grab a slip of paper and put a song down that I wanted to sing I ordered a Lemon Drop.

The waitress asked me what kind of vodka I wanted. She received the same blank stare but this time a shoulder shrug, too. She smiled and laughed and asked me if I wanted it sweet then made an executive decision when I told her yes.

I decided that I did like her after all.

Since Katie was certain she wasn't going to sing and I saw Heather looking through the binder I asked her if she wanted to sing a duet. She had been eyeing Creepin' In by Norah Jones and I said I knew that song and that I loved it. After she handed me the slip of paper to give to the DJ I thought about the song. Yes, I knew the song but it has been years since it was in my CD rotation (yes, I am old school and do not own an iPod).

Heather had done karaoke before so she wasn't nervous. I did karaoke once as well, at a friends house. My friend Megan and I sang "I Will Survive" by Cake. It was fun. We kind of botched the song and she did better than I did. After that all the women at the party sang a Thai love song. The guys "sang" a Thai rap song. It really isn't that odd; it was a going away party for Ryan's Thai co-worker, Song, and his wife Pen. Thai love karaoke. It was fun.

One big difference between karaoke at a friends' house and in a lounge is the audience. Another difference is the regulars at the lounge. One guy was horrific. I imagine if he was younger he would be one to try out for American Idol and be shocked when the judges scoffed at his clear lack of talent. The other regulars were decent. One guy stuck to Garth Brooks but he didn't sing Friends in Low Places. Boo. If you are going to sing country pick a good one, please. We don't need to hear Honky Tonk Badonkadonk. Actually, I don't know who sings that one. But the contry loving dude said he would like some 'help' up front since it was his first time singing this particular song so two of the other regulars went up to the dance floor and 'danced'. I kept thinking, does Hat Girl (so named because she was wearing a hat. Clever, I know), realize that by dancing to Honky Tonk Badonkadonk we are all staring at her badonkadonk? Of course she did. I thought of my Grandma Opal and some advice she gave me once while we were in the car in a Safeway parking lot. She pointed at some young girls about my age who were being loud and obnoxious and dressed a bit on the provocative side and she simply said, "April, you don't have to be like that." That was all she said but it was enough.

But enough about the butt shaking (pun intended). Back to me and how nervous I was. My nerves work their way out through my bladder. It is so annoying. In High School before a concert (I wear my band nerd stripes proudly) I tried to time my bathroom run as close as possible to go time. It didn't matter how many times I ran off to the bathroom, I would feel like I had to go again in five minutes. Last night was no different. Well, yes, a little different. Expectations in high school were much higher.

When the DJ called out "Heather and April, singing for the first time tonight" I wanted to say, "Just kidding, Heather," and run to the bathroom to pee. Instead, I stood up and covered my mouth and looked at my friends with my eyes screaming, "Aah! What have I done?!"

I was singing the part of Norah and Heather was singing Dolly's part. When the words came on the screen Heather said, "That's you." I jumped in about the second line. I would say I started singing on the second line but it was more like I was reciting the words on the screen. I got behind, I couldn't jump in so Heather jumped in and started singing my part. Whew.

Then her part came on and she sang her part beautifully. Then my part came back and I choked. She sang my part and I choked some more. Then during the part where Norah and Dolly take turns singing the same line, "Creepin' In" it was me in a great monotone voice speaking the line with Heather singing her part.

Like most people who did karaoke Heather danced a bit while singing. Me? I stood stock still and stared at the monitor. I don't know if Heather looked up at our friends or not because, like I said, I kept my eyes fixed on the monitor. During a musical interlude I did look up once and saw the polite smiles on everyone's faces. I wished I hadn't looked up. As I was standing there with all of the moves of Al Gore, Heather leaned over and said, "dance." I laughed. My singing would be award winning in comparison to my dancing. I dropped the microphone a bit and said, "No."

Mercifully the song came to an end. Heather and I took our seats. I put my head down on the table and moaned even though some young guys were kind enough to say, "Way to go ladies." Which was very nice of them to say but it made me feel old. They were obviously in their young to mid-twenties and my group was obviously not the young, mid or even late 20's group.

Katie and I-forget-her-name co-worker of the birthday boy made it clear that they were not going to sing but told me I was very brave to go up there and sing. Mm hm. I know what that means. You were brave = You sucked but kudos on the nerve to show off your lack of talent. Knowing in my heart of hearts what the answer was going to be I leaned across the table and implored of Katie, "Was I at least better than that guy?" referring to the guy who loved him some karaoke at the expense of everyone listening. She didn't have to say anything, her face said it all, "Well, he is so confident. You were so nervous."

I wailed and buried my head in my arms in shame. "But you were so brave, April. I could never do that," Katie said.

"Great, I get the brave award," I moaned.

People who don't karaoke aren't chicken. They are smart! They know where their talents lie. Lay. Hmm, lay or lie? I know humans lie down and objects lay down but what about where talents lay/lie? Ooh, I'm show-casing one of my talents right now as a dork.

I am not smart however because if I was I would steer clear of all public singing save for singing at church with the rest of the congregation. I suppose I could live with having the most appreciative audience of one, my sweet little Gavin. He doesn't know that his mommy could peel paint off a wall with her voice.

But, alas, I am a glutton for punishment because I'm already thinking of the song that I will practice, practice, practice for the next time I karaoke.

Friday, October 31, 2008

Boo

My family celebrated Halloween until I was 10; then my parents decided it wasn't exactly extolling Christian virtues so we quit celebrating. But it was too late. I already had 1o years of Halloween infused fun so I just took a hiatus until I was no longer under their roof. Now that I have a little kiddo Halloween festivities have resumed. The Gavinator was the cutest little arachnid! Here are some pictures from tonight (and from his birthday party when I put him in his costume for the grandparents).

The first house where someone was home, our neighbor Trevor and a fellow transportation engineer Ryan works with from time to time. Trevor's cat did NOT like Gavin crawling around in his living room - he arched his back and his fur poofed up a bit; it was hilarious!




Our neighbor Jeff (wife Katie not pictured) and daughter Hattie.

Cruising the halls of Keller Williams (my former office).



Seeing a baby dressed up in a spider costume crawling around was to cute.














Chillin' at Starbucks where we met friend Jenn.




The spider vest didn't bother him so much but the hat drove him nuts as evidenced by the hat on the floor that he is staring at.















And for giggles... can anyone guess what word this cartoon "spells"?





Time

When do we become aware of time? More specifically, when do we become aware of the passing of time? It seems as children time is something we will to go by, and to please go by quickly, already! Time seemed to stand still as a child. I remember my mom granting me 15 minutes to play across the street with the neighbor kids when, judging by the house associated with the memory, I was under 6 years old. That quarter of an hour seemed like all of the time in the world. I also remember it taking forever to eat an apple and that half an apple was a big snack. Oh, to be filled up by half an apple.



The first 18 years went by so slowly although time did pick up its pace in passing as the years went on, especially high school. Time in Junior High felt like it stood still then picked up pace in the high school years; probably because I was starting to enjoy school and was becoming comfortable being me; just residing in my own skin. I wasted so much time wishing I was someone else when the people I wished I was were probably doing some silly self swapping wishing of their own.



On some level I knew that time was precious and limited because my dad died so young, when I was so young, but I still did not appreciate the gift of life and of the limited time we have with the life we are given. My eyes were opened a bit for the first time to the rapid nature of time passage in my senior year of high school, in PE - the class I hated most. It was in the Fall because I planned to get PE over with so I could fully enjoy my senior year and made sure my requirements were met early. In class that day we were jogging some number of miles, probably 3. For at least part of the jog around campus and the adjacent football stadium, McKenzie stadium, and its woods I was with my friend Wendy - or I think was because she was in my little vision. Maybe it was an after school jog which I was crazy enough to do from time to time when I wanted to get into shape.



There we were jogging in the woods near the football field chatting about what ever it was we chatted about - probably boys - when I had the most surreal vision. I felt like I was looking at us from outside my body; I was looking down on us, jogging on the brown dirt path strewn with Evergreen needles, idly chatting, waiting to get on with life and finish this last year of school and I saw it all, that very event, as a distant even of the past. Time shot forward into the future like an arcing flash of light and I was sitting in a rocking chair reflecting on this distant memory from my youth.



That event was just my first real introduction to time passage. I am now keenly aware of how quickly it passes. It gets faster and faster with each passing year feeling shorter and shorter than the previous year. Having a child accelerates time passing like nothing else. The more I want to hold on to the time I have now the swifter it passes. I feel like I'm holding on to sand and trying to hug it close to my body in a vain attempt to keep as much as I can.



My baby is a year old now. A year! Heck, it's been two weeks since his birthday, he almost 13 months old. Was it only yesterday to my mom that I was a baby? That her brood was still in her nest? My nest isn't full but I already anticipate that it will be empty in the blink of an eye.



Part of me wishes that I wasn't so acutely aware of how quickly time passes but if I wasn't aware would I appreciate the time that I have with loved ones less? Can one be in a perpetual state of thanksgiving and awe for what all that one has?

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Sleep Training

A new parent has many concerns. First and foremost they want to know their child is healthy. Every sneeze, cough, rash and vomit has the new parent turning to their new parent handbook (for us it was The Baby Book by Dr. Sears. We outgrew that phase. I don't think I've cracked the book open in at least a month.

Some concerns are more about the parents and less about the baby. The biggest of which is, "When will the baby sleep through the night?" It is one of the first questions family, friends, co-workers and strangers will ask, "How does he sleep?" If your answer is a groan as you rub your crusty eyes and absent-mindedly run your hands through your hair which causes you pause as you think not about the baby sleeping but when was the last time you washed your hair, then you will get lots of advice on how to ensure the baby sleeps, or promises that the baby will sleep when he reaches 10 pounds, or 15 pounds or 6 weeks, or 10 weeks or 3 months or 6 months. At some point people just look at you in disbelief. How can he not be sleeping through the night? What on earth am I doing to him to make him wake up?

Gavin hasn't slept through the night since before we went on vacation in April. True. For 2 or 3 glorious weeks he slept 10-12 hours a night. It was amazing. It was short lived. So very short lived. It gave me a taste of rest.

Recently Gavin's schedule has been to wake up 3 times a night. The first feeding didn't bother me because I was awake anyway. 11-3-6 (roughly) has been his schedule. This past week he has been waking up every 2 hours which is obviously unacceptable. So here I am at 1:30 in the morning, awake. Tired. So very tired. He woke up at 11:45 and I went into his room to offer him some milk (ala bovine) but the more I tried to offer him his sippy cup the more he screamed. Seriously. He was screaming. Forget crying. He wanted milk from the tap and he wanted to be in my arms and at said tap. Being the gentle loving mother that I am, I patted his back and spoke to him in soothing tones even though he couldn't hear me over the ear splitting screaming. I eventually left his room and within in moments he was asleep.

And so it has gone for an hour and a half. He screams, I offer his sippy cup and pat his back and provide some comfort and after being rejected I leave and he falls asleep for a few minutes. He has been asleep for 30 minutes now but I don't know if I should try and fall asleep or not. As soon as I drift off I just know he's going to wake up.

The next time he wakes up he get milk from the tap since it will have been 5 hours since he went to bed for the night. That is the goal. To get him to sleep at least 5 hours between feedings. He is certainly old enough. His doctor had me do this sleep training after his 9 month check up. She said it would take 3 nights and she was right. She also said right around a year or so to expect more sleep issues. Right again.

So we are back to sleep training. During the day I am making a great effort to feed him more solids and to give him a big dinner so his tummy will stay full longer.

I really need this to work. I am exhausted. Ryan really needs this to work too because I'm going to start calling on him on weekends to give me a night off. I can't believe I function as well as I do with so little sleep. Granted waking up with Gavin now is nothing at all like waking up with him when he was a newborn. Then just feeding him took at least 45 minutes. That was crazy.

I'm going to go to sleep now. And Gavin will take that as his cue to wake up. And round and round we go.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Birthday Fun

Here are some pictures from the Gavinator's first birthday party.

As my friend Wendy says the Costco cake is just an excuse to have a birthday party.



He wasn't sure what to do with the cupcake. He stuck his fingers in the frosting and examined them for a bit before sticking them in his mouth.



Still dainty with the frosting.



Back for more



I couldn't capture how hard he was sucking on his fingers in the photo. I half expected his fingers to come out just bones like in cartoons when they pop a chicken leg in their mouth and pull out a bone.





I think he likes the sugar



SO MUCH FUN!!!





Thumb sucking duo



Gavin's first balloons from the baby-whisperer herself, Jenn



Gavin & Laura



Gavin, Master Clapper



Sweet Family





Another of Gavin and his cousin Laura