Only YOU Can Help

My friend, Sarah Lenssen, has started a campaign to help bring food and hope to the drought stricken areas in the Horn of Africa where there is not enough food to sustain life.  I look at my food scraps pile that I toss out every night after making dinner.  And of the bits of food the boys don't eat.  And the food that spoils in the fridge.  Sarah's efforts have brought food - life - to these people with her campaign.  Please read on to see what Sarah has started and what you can do to help her help real people with real hurts.

Here are her words:

Thank you April and nearly 150 other bloggers from around the world for allowing me to share a story with you today, during Social Media Week.

A hungry child in East Africa can’t wait. Her hunger consumes her while we decide if we’ll respond and save her life. In Somalia, children are stumbling along for days, even weeks, on dangerous roads and with empty stomachs in search of food and water. Their crops failed for the third year in a row. All their animals died. They lost everything. Thousands are dying along the road before they find help in refugee camps.

At my house, when my three children are hungry, they wait minutes for food, maybe an hour if dinner is approaching. Children affected by the food crisis in in Ethiopia, Kenya, and Somalia aren’t so lucky. Did you know that the worst drought in 60 years is ravaging whole countries right now, as you read this? Famine, a term not used lightly, has been declared in Somalia. This is the world’s first famine in 20 years.12.4 million people are in need of emergency assistance and over 29,000 children have died in the last three months alone. A child is dying every 5 minutes. It it estimated that 750,000 people could die before this famine is over. Take a moment and let that settle in.

The media plays a major role in disasters. They have the power to draw the attention of society to respond–or not. Unfortunately, this horrific disaster has become merely a footnote in most national media outlets. News of the U.S. national debt squabble and the latest celebrity’s baby bump dominate headlines. That is why I am thrilled that nearly 150 bloggers from all over the world are joining together today to use the power of social media to make their own headlines; to share the urgent need of the almost forgotten with their blog readers. Humans have the capacity to care deeply for those who are suffering, but in a situation like this when the numbers are too huge to grasp and the people so far away, we often feel like the little we can do will be a drop in the ocean, and don’t do anything at all.


When news of the famine first hit the news in late July, I selfishly avoided it. I didn’t want to read about it or hear about it because I knew I would feel overwhelmed and uncomfortable. I wanted to protect myself. I knew I would need to do something if I knew what was really happening. You see, this food crisis is personal. I have a 4-year-old son and a 1 yr-old daughter who were adopted from Ethiopia and born in regions now affected by the drought. If my children still lived in their home villages, they would be two of the 12.4 million. My children: extremely hungry and malnourished? Gulp. I think any one of us would do anything we could for our hungry child. But would you do something for another mother’s hungry child?


My friend and World Vision staffer, Jon Warren, was recently in Dadaab Refugee Camp in Kenya–the largest refugee camp in the world with over 400,000 people. He told me the story of Isnino Siyat, 22, a mother who walked for 10 days and nights with her husband, 1 yr-old-baby, Suleiman, and 4 yr.-old son Adan Hussein, fleeing the drought in Somalia. When she arrived at Dadaab, she built the family a shelter with borrowed materials while carrying her baby on her back. Even her dress is borrowed. As she sat in the shelter on her second night in camp she told Jon, “I left because of hunger. It is a very horrible drought which finished both our livestock and our farm.” The family lost their 5 cows and 10 goats one by one over 3 months, as grazing lands dried up. “We don’t have enough food now…our food is finished. I am really worried about the future of my children and myself if the situation continues.”



Will you help a child like Baby Suleiman? Ask5for5 is a dream built upon the belief that you will.

That something I knew I would need to do became a campaign called #Ask5for5 to raise awareness and funds for famine and drought victims. The concept is simple, give $5 and ask five of your friends to give $5, and then they each ask five of their friends to give $5 and so on–in nine generations of 5x5x5…we could raise $2.4 Million! In one month, over 750 people have donated over $25,000! I set up a fundraiser at See Your Impact and 100% of the funds will go to World Vision, an organization that has been fighting hunger in the Horn of Africa for decades and will continue long after this famine has ended. Donations can multiply up to 5 times in impact by government grants to
help provide emergency food, clean water, agricultural support,
healthcare, and other vital assistance to children and families suffering in the Horn.

I need you to help me save lives. It’s so so simple; here’s what you need to do:

1.Donate $5 or more on this page (http://seeyourimpact.org/members/ask5for5)
2.Send an email to your friends and ask them to join us.
3.Share #Ask5for5 on Facebook and Twitter!
I’m looking for another 100 bloggers to share this post on their blogs throughout Social Media Week. Email me at ask5for5@gmail.com if you’re interested in participating this week.

A hungry child doesn’t wait. She doesn’t wait for us to finish the other things on our to-do list, or get to it next month when we might have a little more money to give. She doesn’t wait for us to decide if she’s important enough to deserve a response. She will only wait as long as her weakened little body will hold on…please respond now and help save her life. Ask 5 for 5.

Thank you on behalf of all of those who will be helped–you are saving lives and changing history.

p.s. Please don’t move on to the next website before you donate and email your friends right now. It only takes 5 minutes and just $5, and if you’re life is busy like mine, you probably won’t get back to it later. Let’s not be a generation that ignores hundreds of thousands of starving people, instead let’s leave a legacy of compassion. You have the opportunity to save a life today!

Trying Something New

If I were more industrious I would go back and see how many times I've lamented about the loathsome job of doing laundry.  It, like washing dishes, is such a bother.  Wash, dry, take care of and repeat for the rest of your life. 

The few times that every article of clothing (save what we were wearing), kitchen towel and assorted linens has been clean and folded and taken care of are such sweet times.  I like to see empty hampers, laundry baskets, a spacious and empty laundry room and a pool table not covered in clothes. 

Then I squander that precious time of having nothing taunting me in the hamper by fretting about other chores that need to be done to make the house perfect.  If the dishes are done and the toys are picked up then are the windows sparkly clean?  The bathroom spotless?  How about the grout lines in the kitchen - how long has it been since I took a toothpick to them?

Nutso, I know.

Last week Ryan invited a friend over to play pool. 

There was only one problem.

The pool table.  It was covered - every square inch - with clean clothes, piles of stuff to go to Goodwill, to save for so and so, to be moved to the garage/kitchen/bookshelf/boys room...

One evening Ryan spent an hour and a half tackling the pool table. 

It took him 90 minutes to fold all of those clothes and sort through the piles of stuff.  And he goes pretty fast at it, too.  There is no precision folding going on. 

Maybe I should slack a little on the precision and just go with the whole 'getting it done and over with' method.  I'm the only one who cares if the sheets are folded so well that you can't tell which is a flat sheet and which is a folded sheet.  The boys don't balk if the towels in the linen closet do not have all of their edges matched up perfectly.  Or if the edge sides or round folded sides are not all facing the same direction.

Geez, just writing about this makes me want to go straighten out the linen closet.  The towels are folded all wonky and there is a huge stack of yellow shop cloths in front of the bath towels.  The wash cloths are not stacked by style (in the following order:  the white ones with pink trim, sand colored ribbed ones from our wedding registry, white ones from my mom 2 Christmases ago) and baby washcloths are mixed in with them and they are stacked so high the tower of wash cloths is falling over ....

Wait.

I need to go get a brown paper bag.

*********

Just kidding.  Sort of.  I'm not hyperventilating but I do think I've got myself plenty worked up about the state of the linen closet. 

Sheesh. Now I have to worry about the linen closet in addition to the hallway full of stuff I need to clear out.  It's been 5 years in the making but I reached my tipping point in our tiny bedroom.  Our bedroom set is lovely.  Really.  Very pretty, solid wood, blah, blah, blah.  It is also freaking HUGE.  We will gain 18 inches of precious space by removing our head and foot boards.  I cleared the top of my dresser (into a laundry basket, the contents and which are in the hallway sitting on top of my nightstand - which I also emptied in order to move it to the guest room) so I could work on emptying the dresser so I can take the dresser out of the room.

On Sunday or Monday we are going to get a platform bed that has storage underneath.  The one drawer full of clothes that I couldn't arrange neatly in the closet are going in those drawers.  We will be down 3 really bulky pieces.  Our room will feel like a calm and spacious oasis. 

Now I just need to get Ryan to take the boys to his mom's or dad's house for the weekend so I can paint the bedroom... and living room... and dining room.... 

I feel relaxed just thinking about the vision it's going to be.  Now I just have to work on my sales pitch to Ryan about my color choices.  Half of my pitch is about his lack of labor involvement and the other half will have to be made up of trust (see how nice the bathroom turned out?  You doubted that, remember?) and my big brown eyes looking at him all sweet and doe like. 

So the whole reason I started this post was because I had this novel idea about something new I'm trying:  folding laundry one load at time.  When a load needs to go in the dryer I fold the one already in there instead of piling the clean clothes on top of the dryer, then the washer then the pool table. 

It's been 3 days and it is going beautifully. 

The other new thing I was going to try and have already failed miserably at is a short blog post.  Since I like to write but finding the time to do it when I have enough uninterrupted time and energy is kind of hard I thought I would just write a small post about doing laundry.  But then I start in on tangents. 

Oy.  The tangents.

That reminds me about this time in the 9th grade when I learned what a tangent was...

Nutso

You know those days when you wake up and in spite of being a little tired you just go, go, go?  I had one of those the other day.  It hasn't stopped yet.  I think it may have something to do with having two young children. 

Just maybe.

The other factor would be the nutso factor. 

When you add coffee to the nutso factor - watch out. 

I cleaned the kitchen which is always an epic feat.  Always.  We have so many plastic kids dishes that can only be washed in the top rack that I always have a mountain of cups, plates and bowls that don't have any room in the upper rack so I have to wash all of those by hand, then the pots and pans, knives.....

The whole process of sustaining a human body with food is such a bother.  How nice would it be to just go outside and pick fruit and vegetables and eat.  Call it good.  No need to cook.  No need to clean. 

The sweeping led to vacuuming, the vacuuming led to moving some furniture which led to a curtain rod falling which led to curtains being washed which led to curtains being ironed. 

I suppose that stuff isn't nutso.  The nutso part is when I decided to strip the bed, wash the duvet, vacuum the mattress pad, the bed frame, two dressers and nightstands. 

Ryan was in the shower when I put the sheets on the bed.  In case you don't know I have to have the sheets perfect when I put on a fresh set.  After that, meh, not so much.  Ryan gets a kick out of wresting the corner of the sheet out of his hand to I can put it on properly.  And the way I smooth out all of the bumps and wrinkles in the top sheet so it lies perfectly flat.  I even make hospital corners - but I don't tuck the sheet in at the foot of the bed.  I'm like George Costanza in that I'm a "no tuck" person. 

As if that weren't crazy enough... I remembered that I had the ironing board out and the top of the flat sheet was so wrinkled that it wasn't making a straight line across the top of the bed.  Naturally, the only thing you can do it iron all of the seams of the top sheet.  And the pillow cases. 

When I plopped into bed I was a little disappointed in my self for not ironing the shams.  Really, that's what's going to be seen... by me and Ryan, the boys and our cat Bob.  I'm sure Bobby would much rather lay on an ironed sham than a wrinkly one.  Poor Bobby. 

The next day the craziness continued when we realized the freezer wasn't, well,  freezing.  Then we discovered the fridge wasn't refrigerating.  Working quickly we moved all of the food to the downstairs fridge in the laundry room.  Well, first I took out all of the beer and water and ginormous pot of chicken stock I completely forgot about. 

You wouldn't think it would be such a hassle to walk down stairs to grab some food for your kids for breakfast, lunch and dinner but it was a HUGE hassle.  We had a lot of take out over the last two days.  Most of that was because the kitchen was impassable.  If the fridge wasn't pulled out and the island butcher block moved then it was overflowing with all of the shelving, drawers and racks. 

Ryan spent Thursday evening figuring out the problem and Friday fixing it.  I spent Friday cleaning the inside of the fridge, washing every rack, every drawer, every shelf.  I didn't just wipe the stuff down, I scrubbed it with copious amounts of soap.  Then I spread them all over the kitchen and dining room table to dry. 

When I was trying to put a drawer back in the fridge I opened the door really wide and angled the drawer to slide it in.  The top pane of tempered glass slipped and shattered into a million little pieces, scattering themselves all over the kitchen, under the fridge, island, and dining room.  Theo was in the dining room and was fascinated by the sound of shattering glass and immediately started climbing out of his chair.  I said, "No, Theo, NO!  Ryan!  Help.  Ryan!" 

By this point Theo is standing barefoot on broken glass.  I quickly take a few steps on broken glass to get to him.  Just as I got to him Ryan arrived to pick him up. Theo starts to cry and I very gently brush the glass bits off his feet.  Fortunately, there were no cuts. 

I crawled over the baby gate to the chair that Theo was in then crawl to the next seat over, brush off my feet - also not cut - and scoot the chair away from the glass so I can get shoes on to help Ryan clean up the glass. 

Did you know that tempered glass keeps breaking after the initial crash?  As I was waiting maneuvering myself around on the dining room chairs I kept hearing pops coming from the kitchen.  I turned around and sure enough bits of glass were still breaking apart.  They weren't huge breaks but they were clearly forming new fissures.  It was pretty neat to watch. 

Cleaning up that mess was a big undertaking.  So big I worked up a sweat and took a shower afterwards. 

A couple of hours later I took a peak in the downstairs fridge and a glass bowl just slid out and broke on the concrete floor.  There was cellophane over the bowl so it helped contain the glass but still.  Another glassy mess to clean up. 

On the bright side off all of the breaking of appliances and glass - my floors are clean and my fridge is showroom clean.  Not a single item in the fridge is expired (my recycling bin is going to be overflowing with empty condiment bottles this week).  My, oh, my we have a lot of condiments. 

It is such a lovely sight to behold that I just want to go stare at it.  Or take a picture and post it on facebook.  

Nah, that would be really nutso. 

Nice Kitty

Days like today are what make living in Seattle great.  When the sun is out and it's warm - it's the best!  I've been to other sunny places and it's not the same.  We were in Arizona recently and it was sunny for a day or two while we were there and - eh.  It's just not the same.  It's a flat brown sprawling deserty suburb.  Of course, the company was fantastic.  And the cacti and citrus trees.  Those were super cool.  So cool in fact I took a bunch of pictures of orange trees.  Next time we go maybe Ryan and I will venture off to Sedona or something - I loooooovvvvvveee Sedona.  Anyhoo.... back to the Emerald City.

We've been cold and soggy since a nice week in March.  At least it feels like we've been living in perpetual rain.  The other day I thought about making some hot cocoa to warm myself up.  It's the middle of freakin' May!

So, with the sun out in it's full glory we hit the road for the zoo.  And by hit the road I mean, ate a leisurely breakfast, put Theo down for a nap, let Gavin play my Nintendo DS (he has his very own Elmo game) on Ryan's side of the bed so I could doze, and wrangle the boys for an hour and a half in an attempt to get out the house to do something fun. 

Our first stop was fun, fun, fun!  For me.  We went to True Value where I picked up an obscene amount of seeds to plant in my obscenely tiny garden.  I picked out carrots, colored carrots, peas, swiss chard, lettuce, cucumbers, pumpkins (I will be happy with just one pumpkin), beets and.....  I think that's it.  Now I just need to get one or two tomato plants.  Oh, and actually plant everything.

The penguins were a hoot today.  Well, one penguin was a hoot.  He was swimming back and forth along a glass enclosure following the kids as they walked back and forth.  It was so entertaining.  The kids shrieking with excitement wasn't my cup of tea, though.  I felt kind of like a scrooge.  Gavin is pretty quiet but I think if Theo was a little older and understood how unusual that little show the penguin was putting on was he would have been the loudest of them all. 

The hippo wasn't much of a hoot but it was the first time I saw the hippo in all the years I've been going there so I was really excited about that.  Another first for me and the boys was that this was the first time I didn't take them to see the ducks.  The ducks are my favorite part of the zoo.  No joke.  I really like ducks.  They are so cute what with all of their waddling and quacking.  So cute!

Every time we go to the lion exhibit they are always off in the distance taking a nap and just looking really depressed.  The last time we were there I couldn't help but notice some ducks who were in their enclosure by a small pond.  I kept thinking, "Does the lion not see them?  Do the ducks not see that huge cat over there?" 

Today we were in for a real treat as the lioness was front and center at the glass.  Looking into the eyes of a lion from 3 inches away is a little unsettling even with a nice thick glass barrier between us.  I crouched down and put my face right in front of hers and she sized me up and looked right in my eyes.  When our eyes connected for a very brief moment a shiver ran down my spine.

Gavin and Theo had noooo idea the lion was sizing them up as tasty little snacks.  Gavin and Theo were so excited to see this big cat that they were jumping up and down and trying to touch her face through the glass.  I told them that even though they were safe they should not tease the lion and to have some respect for it.  Sheesh.  Don't tease the lion!  It feels like you are just asking for it.    

Pharmaceuticals

This has been quite a week for me and Big Pharma. 

Last Friday morning I woke up and at some point inspected the disheveled woman staring at me in the mirror and to my dismay I saw little red bumps lining my upper lip.  I rubbed my lip and felt the familiar tingling sensation...

It looked like round 5 or 6 of the cold sore/impetigo mystery was brewing.  There was still hope, though.  I've had little bumps and the cold sore tingles that just *poof* went away.  I was hoping there would be some *poofing* but no such luck.

My regular doctor told me to see the dermatologist because she has no idea what's going on with me.  The dermatologist's office said they couldn't see me until next Wednesday and, after I called back to plead for an appointment they said they don't reserve space for same day appointments.  This is the same office where the last time I was there the Dermatologist said to me (after I asked him about my latest outbreak and if there was anyone he could refer me to and he said, "Well, maybe this is the last time it happens.").  I know - I should have never gone back after that profound medical insight on his part.  Is that what 8 years of medical school gets you?  Maybe it won't happen again?  Really?!

As each minute ticked by in the late morning I could feel my face being transformed.  Staph was colonizing my lips and chin and there was no one who could see me.  I sat on the steps in front of the house on the phone with my mom crying about how I wanted to see someone about this - I just needed to start antibiotics ASAP.  The sky was blue, the sun was shining, it was warm.  The day was too beautiful to be marred by this ugly, ugly thing. 

We had just returned from a mom's group when my doctors office called and the above series of phone calls set me off on my calls of pleading for an appointment.  It was now well past noon on Friday and if no one could see me I would have to go to the Emergency Room. 

As I was making an appointment to see a regular doc at a local clinic I almost shouted to the receptionist, "WAIT!  Do you have any same day appointments available with a dermatologist?!" 

When she said yes but it's at 1:45 with a 15 minute check-in so I would have to be there at 1:30 and could I make it, I probably did shout, "Yes!  I'll be there!" 

Fortunately I never took the boys out of the van - they sat in their car seats with the doors open while I called everyone under the sun that I could think of to make an appointment. 

Unfortunately I never took the boys out of the van while I called everyone under the sun.

They were hungry.

They were tired.

They were cranky.

Normally I am really good about feeding my children.

Normally I am really good about letting them sleep.

This was not a normal situation.

To make a long story a little less long - I saw the doc and she was befuddled.  She didn't give me antibiotics because she didn't know my history of the raging impetigo and as a good responsible doc she didn't prescribe me antibiotics all willy nilly based on some new patients self reporting even though she did see the first start of the infection.  Just the faintest beginning.  She had me take an extra strong dose of something I already take in hopes that would quell the beast.

But the beast was not to be quelled; by Saturday morning my face (read:  lips and chin) was a gross, crusty, drippy, honey colored, swollen mess.  That afternoon I had Ryan drop me off at the ER.  There the doctor who saw me gave me not one but two kinds of antibiotics to take. 

I didn't sleep well that night but the next day - from 10 am to 5 pm - I slept like a log.  The only reason I woke up was because Ryan checked on me to make sure I was still breathing.  After a few hours up and helping put the boys to bed I went back to sleep but not before I noticed a red patch over my left eye.

Frick! 

It had never spread beyond my lips and chin before this.  Why oh why would it decide to leap up my face?

About 3 am when I was up for a trip to the loo I noticed that what started out as a red itchy patch that was a tiny bit puffy was now flaming red, very itchy and my eye was almost swollen shut.

"Ryan, wake up.  I'm going to the emergency room, my eye is almost swollen shut."

"OK.  I'll pray for you...."  zzzzzzzzz

Just kidding.  I'm sure it took him at least two minutes to fall back asleep. 

3:30 in the morning is a great time to be in the ER.  It was a ghost town.  When the receptionist asked why I was there to be seen I pointed to my face and she said, "Oh, the obvious, huh?" 

"Yup."

The 2 nurses aides and nurse who checked me in - no joke - they were bored - had me change into a gown because they were certain I was going to be there a while since it looked like something was obviously going on. 

But no.  The doctor gave me a big dose of prednisone and sent me off with a prescription for more to take throughout the week. 

Whew. 

Geez, this is just getting longer and longer.....

On Monday it was back to the dermatologist who said it was probably an allergic reaction and sent me to the lab with a boat load of things to be tested for.  She kept looking at me and patting my knee and saying, "Oh, you poor thing."  I think she was really shocked to see how quick and virulent this thing on my face was.

I am eagerly waiting to hear what she has to say when the labs come back but in the meantime she's befuddled. 

Since the non-drowsy anithistamines did nothing to keep me from wanting to scratch my face off my only source of comfort on Tuesday was dunking my face in ice water every few minutes.  Ice.  Water.  I set up a big bowl full of ice, poured water on it and dunked my face in.  I told my friend I wanted to shove straws up my nose so I could just keep my head in the water all day.  It felt soooo good to make my face go numb. 

As a result of my facial melting, so to speak, Ryan was super helpful.  He's already helpful, mind you, but when your spouse's face looks like the spawn of Satan, the helpful factor gets ramped up.  So, I slept a lot over the weekend and late into the mornings. 
Sleep, as many of you know, is the great restorer of many things.

Well, two things:  energy and sanity.

Everything after that just falls into place.  When you have energy you can clean the house and yourself. 

The sanity is just gravy.  Sweet, soapy scented gravy on a freshly scrubbed body floating in a fur and dirt free, clutter free house.

Oh, that whole dirt and clutter free thing was compliments of the prednisone. 

So, sleep + prednisone = energized mommy.

And maybe a little crabby mommy by the end of the day.

And by the end of the week a wide awake mommy who is going to crash when I don't have prednisone to boost me up anymore.

Anyone have Barry Bond's trainer's number?

Mama needs some juice.

Bwahahaha! BWA HAHA!

He FINALLY asked me to put something girly on him.  I have waited patiently for the opportunity to take a picture of my boy in something girly for future use.  My cousins would dress up my brothers like girls and we have the pictures to prove it.  One year my older brother Ike was a girl for Halloween and when I show people the picture they say, "Aw, how cute - is that you?"  Bwahahaha! 

I'm still waiting for the day when Gavin tries on Chiara's dress up clothes since he's at her house once a week.  I've told my friend Cecelia that if Gavin shows an interest in trying on princess clothes that we would not be at all upset and to please, please take photos. 

This photo isn't that great but it's a start.  Just some fun bobby pins my friend Krissy made (if you are interested in her stuff you can find some more here.). 

One of These Days

Today was one of those days when I kept thinking, "One of these days..."

Today I raised the white flag and surrendered to potty training Gavin.  I told myself, "One of these days he will be ready.  He won't go to kindergarten in diapers."  For 6 days I told myself he was ready; that I was ready to this for the long haul.  But after the poopy underwear followed a few minutes later by the wet underwear (and wet carpet) - that I didn't find out about until I said, "Gavin, time to go potty," and he replied, "But I went pee pee in my underwear." - maybe he is not ready since he never tells me when he has to go.  And if I try to stretch beyond the 30-35 minute marker it usually ends in a watery mess.  Today's accidents coupled with his silence did me in.  I was ready for this to happen but I guess it isn't up to me.

When I rolled over and looked at the clock this morning and saw that it was a few minutes past ten I realized I slept too late and we missed church.  Then I begrudgingly got up and went into the living room to relieve Ryan since I knew he had a very big basketball game to watch - he's been looking forward to it all weekend and since he is not the kind of guy who is obsessive and obnoxious about watching every televised game (except during the Olympics.  Seriously, he will watch curling.  Curling.), I went and started to play with the boys so he could concentrate his eyes on watching the Huskies come really, really, really close to winning and making it to the Sweet 16.  I think.  Basketball is not something I would call a passion of mine.  Not even remotely. 

One of these days Theo will tell us what's wrong instead of screaming.

One of these days Theo will sleep through the night.

One of these days neither boys will be in diapers.

One of these days I won't ask, "Is that the dog or did one of the boys have a poopy?" and set out on a diaper checking mission. 

One of these days the announcement of dinner time won't be met with demands for "little bites,"  "medium bites", screaming, spoon throwing (Theo) and the Thank you, thank you Jesus song/prayer. 

One of these days getting dressed won't be an epic feat that defines the entire morning.

One of these days I will not remember having ever talked about myself in the third person.

One of these days I will sleep.

One of these days I will feel human again.

And when "one of these days" ever gets here I'm sure it will usher in new conundrums that will cause me to weep and wail.  But when those glorious days arrive I hope my boys are not too old to snuggle with their mama and give hugs and kisses.  As much as I'm looking forward to a quieter house I am really going to miss being super awesome in their eyes.  One of these days they will also realize how human and fallible I am.  We will all be ok so long as they know I love them to the moon and back.  At least that is my prayer.

Why

Before having children I didn't realize firsts (words, steps, smiles) were not always obvious.  It seems silly to question a first smile, word, crawl, step until you witness one.  Or think you witness one.  The first smile is blamed on gas.  The first crawl looks something like a dying sea creature trying to beach itself.  The first word may resemble a word but only a little.  Theo is a lagging in his language acquisition but that's fine.   Gavin was the same and yet he knew most of the alphabet by his second birthday.  I'm not too concerned.  I like to hear Theo babble and I get all sorts of excited when he graces us with one of his words, "Buh buh" is bye.  Banana is something along the lines of yaya.  My favorite is Mamamama.  Ryan's is probably Dadadada.  I think he even tried to say dump truck but only managed to say duh truh.

So to see a first, or in our case tonight - a new stage, and to realize you are in fact watching a first is something quite spectacular. 

Here is how this new stage played out in our house tonight.

Ryan was in the kitchen getting his plate ready for dinner.  Theo was in his highchair eating broccoli with cheese sauce (with a ratio of 1:2, that's one part broccoli and 2 parts cheese and if the ratio switched to 2:1 it was quickly rejected), Gavin was doing his best to avoid trying the broccoli and cheese sauce, the salad, the cucumbers, just dinner in general.  It was late and he had toys to play with.

Between shoveling food into Theo and coaxing Gavin to sit down at the table I was inhaling my salmon.

***Tangent:  it was the BEST salmon I've ever had at home.   Yum.  YUM!  YUM!  King Salmon is delicious.  It is such a fatty fish.  Mmm..... fat.*** 

I told Gavin he needed to sit at the table.

"Why?"

"Because we are a family and we eat together."

"Why?"

"Because we love each other and like to spend time together."

"Why?"

"Because....."  I don't remember what I said but it was clearly not a satisfactory answer to Gavin because he asked, "Why?"

Then to make sure we were knew he wanted some answers he said, "Why, why, why?"

My mouth dropped open and I turned to look at Ryan in the kitchen who turning his head with his mouth agape to look at me. 

"It started!" 

Ryan has been dreading the "why" stage.  Well, it's here, baby.   Oh, boy is it ever here.

Survey Says

Please help a girl out. Look at the picture below and take the survey. Tell me what you call the picture. That's it. Once the survey is closed I'll tell you what the breakdown of names are and why I care to know what you call it.  For the survey click here.

Indirect

It used to be one of my favorite ways to get to know a city.  I've done it in Vancouver, Portland and Seattle.  I manage to do it on a small scale, too, like say, in a rest area parking lot, the mall parking lot, a casino - any casino.  Oh, can't forget about, Kirkland, Bellevue, Renton....

I can get lost anywhere.  Really.  Just ask my family.  They saw me come out of a restroom at a rest stop and stop and look left, right and left again.  I was looking for the car.  One time I managed to drive clear across town, back in my days in the 'Couve.  The sad part is that my starting point was just one neighborhood away from the neighborhood I had lived in for 10 years.  I got turned around in her neighborhood, which, to my credit, I had only been in like once or twice before, and I kept turning and turning and before I knew it I was on the other end of town.

Today wasn't that bad but I kind of thought I've moved beyond the hopelessly lost phase of living in Seattle.  This fall will mark my 10th year in the Emerald City.  Hopeless is not a good word to describe the state I was in because I recognized the neighborhoods as I tried to weave my way to the highway to get home.

So, this is how it should have gone down:  Quenn Anne, Highway 99, home. 

Here is how it went instead:  Queen Anne, Fremont, Ballard, Fremont, Phinney, Wallingford,  I-5, home. 

A trip that should have only taken 15 minutes went beyond 30 minutes.  Oy. 

On the bright side I now know how to get from Queen Anne to Ballard super fast. 

Transparency

Have you ever feared your two worlds colliding?  No?  Have no idea what I'm talking about?

Well, congratulations are in order, for you are a transparent person. 

In High School I had long talks with a girlfriend about the many different roles we played in our lives.  Of course, we were trying to figure out our roles in life, where we belonged in the grand scheme of things.  Like all teenagers we had drama with our parents, real and imagined, drama with our friends, drama with our classes, drama with our teachers, drama with the boys we pined after.  Oh, the boys.  So many boys and so much pining.  I'm surprised my heart never gave out with all of its pitter patting over the silly, silly boys.  I was a silly, silly girl. 

I think I was pretty transparent at school when I saw a boy I liked.  The blood in my face shone right through my white skin.  Some days I cursed my fair skin.  It's so hard to deny being in like (I may have been a silly girl but I knew I wasn't in love) when your skin is flaming red. 

As I've grown and matured, at least I would like to think I've matured, I'm settling into the person I am.  I'm comfortable in my own skin.  Mostly comfortable in my beliefs.  That didn't come out right.  I am confident in my beliefs but sometimes it is hard to reconcile my beliefs with the world I live in - and often times embrace. 

I suppose this is the crux of my problem.  If I am completely transparent then I feel like I will offend a lot of people.  The conservative base from which I come would find my beliefs horrifyingly liberal (my family has NO idea how liberal I've become - they only think they know) while the left leaning Seattleites would find me to be Neanderthalic in some other beliefs. 

Oy.  What to do?  Keep my opinions to myself?  Bite my tongue?  It's hard to keep quiet - just ask Ryan.  Or my brothers.  Or my mom.  Or my dad.  Anyone who knows me, really.