Comin’ from the land down under…

I was hoping to have my house put together more than it is, but when you have a friend visiting you FROM AUSTRALIA you’d best concern yourself with ending Pukefest 2007 first. The important thing is that I vacuumed the layers of cracker crumbs out from the between the couch cushions so I don’t look like a complete moron when we pull the bed out for him. The dining table full of clutter? We can eat out. The couch filled with loads of clean laundry? The area rug is pretty soft for sitting. I think we’ll be fine.

When I was a kid my parents once had friends visit us from Australia – they had met while traveling in Europe (my mom makes conversation with everyone, even Australians in Europe). But me? I met my Australian friend while sitting on my couch. I think he found my blog through this review I wrote for theooze.com, and because he commented a couple times I read his blog and we became commenting friends. And now? We’re stop #2 on his American Extravaganza! (My term, not his.)

Let that be a lesson to all you lurkers out there: YOU TOO could be sleeping on my Ikea pull-out couch if you were to just LEAVE A COMMENT.

Diary of a Kansas Wedding

I am back from the land of Maxwell House coffee. My sister actually told the couple who served us the rehearsal dinner, “Could you please make the coffee a little more like coffee house coffee, and a little less like church coffee?” I appreciated her effort, because strong Maxwell House coffee is much better tasting.

My nephew’s wedding was very sweet with just the right amount of pink and softness, and it was in a beautiful old Mennonite church on the Kansas prairie. Isn’t this dreamy?…

Wedding Chapel on the Kansas prairie

I was sad at times that Ruthie wasn’t with me to hang out with all her cousins, but being kid-less also meant I could be put to hard labor setting up the church and putting it back together again. When I called home on Friday morning to tell her I was decorating the church, she said, “I wish I was there to help you!” Proof that leaving her at home was the right decision!

Hard labor was my task, because after I tried countless times to tie a wired ribbon bow I remembered why I left all the foofie stuff up to my best friend at my own wedding. My sister-in-law, Nicole, was the bow master.

bows

It’s not often that my brother and sister and I find ourselves in the same place all at once. I think the last time this happened was at Gordy’s funeral in 2005, and before that at my wedding in 2001. It was fun to catch up together, lounge by the hot tub, play games in the hotel’s family room, and document how many different conversations about football can take place within a 24 hour period. I am now schooled on the finer points of who’s rank will go down if USC wins the next game. I think.

I even got into an intense political discussion with my dad and brother at dinner Saturday night, testing out my political awareness now that I’m no longer a political apathetic. I was enjoying myself and would have kept going down the checklist of issues, but my mom – She Who Cracks Under Intense Conflict – nervously pleaded for us to leave the restaurant.

I crashed in the same room as my mom and three teenagers – my niece, Kara; my nephew’s girlfriend, Karina; and Rodica, the Moldovan girl living with them (more on her later). We were packed in there, and the mess was messy (Rodica kept pointing out the boys’ room was not as messy), but we also stayed up late watching movies and talking about hair. Plus, the boys’ room was stinky.

crowded hotel room

I learned that my niece has a Facebook page. When I discovered this, I almost blurted out, “I’ll add you as my friend!” Then my brain got a hold of my tongue, reminding me that it is not cool to have your 36 year old chubby aunt as a friend on your Facebook page.

We also got a kick out of my seven year old nephew following my college age nephew around. Everywhere. Drew. Drew. Drew. That’s all Jake was about, was Drew. Fortunately, Drew is awesome, and the sort of magnetic personality that draws all seven year olds everywhere to himself. No wonder he’s majoring in elementary education. Also? Jake must have been jealous of Drew’s girlfriend, because he asked her, “Why do you follow him around so much?” Uh, backatcha?

cousin drew, cousin kara, cousin jake

My nephew, Jesse, is all grown up, and his new wife, Kaley, seems very sweet and confident and aware of what she wants. There was no bitchy stressed-out bride vibe coming from her at all. She was wonderful.

the happy couple

Besides drinking coffee from a can, I will leave you with the other clue that I wasn’t in Seattle anymore – a sign posted at the Wichita Airport’s baggage claim:

I'm not in seattle anymore

*Carry on, my wayward son…

I am in Kansas today, and boy is the terrain flat here. I can see for miles.

My nephew is getting married here on Saturday, so we skipped Thanksgiving. I spent the day on an airplane while Bryan and the kids ate pizza and beer with our friend, Jack. I can’t say that I’m disappointed, though, given my frustrating weight loss issues and such. I finally started to see the scale numbers drop so I’m glad I won’t have the frustration of both loving and despising the stuffing and yams I would have likely devoured.

I didn’t know what to do with myself on the trip out here, this being the first time I’ve flown solo in at least four years. No kids climbing all over me, or screaming, or demanding more food – and the mad dash I made to my connecting flight at the Denver airport (hi Beth!) from gate 8 to gate 56 would have done me in with two kids and all their paraphernalia in tow.

But currently it’s 2am local time and rumor has it I’m being put to work at 9am tomorrow decorating a church. So I think I will try to get past this time change and get some shut eye. More from the Heartland of America later.

*These are lyrics from a song by Kansas, but you are probably too young to know this. Or at least more hip than me.

What I Did This Summer

I just returned from five days and four nights of camping in the rain. It was a little overwhelming, but we just couldn’t stay away as it was the week of our favorite music festival on an island north of Seattle. For five days everything felt damp, even if it wasn’t actually wet – my pillow, my book, my skin, my shoes, my children… EVERYthing.

This afternoon as I unpacked my bag to do laundry I experienced post traumatic stress from the musty smell, and ended up washing everything even if I never wore it. All trace of damp memories needed to be eradicated.

During the one non-raining afternoon I was stung on the ankle by a wasp, and through this experience I discovered who my true friends are (or aren’t) as they laughed at my screaming and leg shaking. They sat mocking me from the craft tent, claiming they thought I was scared of a slug. Granted, these Orcas Island varieties of slugs are no less than five inches long and an inch thick, but they are not that scary.

For the record, I think I was stung by this. I remember thinking – in the delirium of my experience – that I had never seen a black wasp before, and that this was the biggest f*#@ing wasp I had ever seen in my life. My ankle is now inflamed, red, and itchy, and I’m trying to not scratch the skin raw.

How are you feeling NOW about your laughter? Yeah, YOU know who you are.

The rainy weather changed the vibe of the week for me. Usually we spend hours listening to music while the kids run around, but this year (our fifth) I felt more introverted and isolated, choosing instead to hide under a tarp most of the time and read a book or visit with a friend. Bryan kept asking me if I was having fun, and I didn’t know how to answer. I felt like I was supposed to be having fun, because we have always had fun at this festival, and Bryan is on this stupid kick about having a positive attitude. But camping is a lot of work, and camping in the rain is a hell of a lot of work, and sometimes it just doesn’t seem like a vacation to me.

In reality, I know I had fun. There was too much laughter and revelry at 2am to claim I did not have fun. But I think I was mourning that it felt different than all the other years. I like tradition, and this trip is a yearly tradition. There are certain things that I expect from this vacation every year, and when those things didn’t happen they way they always have I think it threw me off a little.

Anyway… yes, Bryan, I had fun. It was just different fun, and I’m okay with that.

I apologize that I did not warn you dear readers that I would be absent from this space, but I make it a point to never tell the Internet when my house will be dark and unoccupied and filled with all sorts of valuables for the taking.

We will now return to our regular, albeit spotty blogging routine.

Iowa: worth enduring the heat

free spiritWe spent three days in Northwestern Iowa visiting my sister and her family, who live on a small, extremely dreamy farm. They live in Dutch country, which is to say the young boys are tall, strapping, and very clean cut, the farms and in-town homes are quaint and well maintained, and the churches are all Dutch Reformed.

As in other visits to my friend’s farm in Ellensburg, WA, Ruthie spent the majority of her time barefoot and wearing a sundress or swimsuit as she and Thomas frolicked around the property. There was seemingly miles of well groomed lawn on which to do somersaults, as well as patches of tall grass in which to explore.

North grove of trees
On the North side of the property is the obligatory patch of trees to block the frigid winter winds, on the South side of the house stand three grand trees to shade the house from the summer sun, and all around the perimeter was a cut-lawn path of grass where my sister and her dogs walk for exercise. They are surrounded by corn fields that are farmed by someone else, but this time of year it provides for a lush green landscape view.

Just days before our arrrival one of the two sheep had birthed a lamb, and two of the cats had birthed a litter of kittens. What more could one ask for on a trip to a farm? We were all in a state of awe and wonder at the beauty, the newness of life, and the fairy-tale existence we city-folk like to think those country-cousins live.

Drew pitchingWe spent all of Monday evening in a town far away watching baseball. In Iowa, the school baseball season is in the early part of the summer (not in the spring during the school year), so hundreds of families gathered at a baseball complex to watch freshman, JV, and Varsity games of girls’ softball and boys’ baseball – with some parents (including my sister and brother-in-law) straining to see what the excitement was on one field while sitting in the stands of another field.

I felt very home grown middle America that day. All we needed was some apple pie.

It was very difficult to leave the farm with its cute red buildings and baaah-ing sheep, especially knowing it may be several years before we can return. But I’m thankful my children will have the memories of visiting Auntie Jody’s farm, and seeing real live sheep that they have so far only seen in books.

See all the photos here.

Really? Has NOBODY invented teleporting yet? How hard can it be?

I survived a three hour flight to Minnesota with the kids Friday night despite the fact that our Northwest Airlines flight was delayed TWO HOURS. Never did I think a flight would be delayed TWO HOURS – twenty minutes, maybe, but TWO HOURS did not cross my mind – so the kids and I were at the airport promptly, which is to say TWO HOURS prior to our scheduled departure.

What do YOU do in an airport with two small children for what has now become FOUR HOURS?

We rode the subway between terminals several times, we ate dinner, we went to the bathroom more times than a male dog and checked out various drinking fountains, and then BLAM – a kids play area appeared before me somewhere near the B Gates and we were in energy-burning heaven for over an hour.

Thank you SeaTac airport: you saved my life and the lives of all those unsuspecting passengers on flight 168.

The good news in all of this was that our now 7:45 departure time would put the majority of the flight after the kids’ regular bedtime, which is roughly 8:30 or 9 – and they did indeed sleep for over an hour.

The bad news in all of this is that my poor mother had to pick us up at the Minneapolis airport at 1am. By the time we were the last ones off the plane and took all the late-night janitorial detours through the airport to the baggage claim, installed the car seats, drove home, had a snack, and got everyone into bed, it was 2:30 in the morning here (after midnight for me).

Poor mom. She’s a night owl like me, but this was stretching it. What a trouper.

I nearly threw Ruthie off the balcony when she woke up at 6:30am Seattle time on Saturday morning. She completely bypassed me sleeping on the sofa bed outside her room and tried to make a run for grandma’s room, but I just HAD to stop her since grandma really WAS up until 2:30am. Ruthie was so devastated to be intercepted from her beloved Gamma that she threw a total fit of heaving sobs which woke her up anyway so I was feeling like a total shmuck.

(paranthetical observation: giving a spirited child what she wants disrupts others (waking up gamma), yet setting boundaries and toeing the line ALSO disrupts others (throwing fits that wake up gamma) – so what the hell is a mother to do???).

But my mom, the ever graceful Marge, simply crawled into bed with Ruthie and me and we all got what we wanted in the end: a little more sleep, and a whole lotta snuggle.

Farm Fresh Jen

IMG_6458.JPGI have returned from a very full and fun day away with Jenny and Andrew, visiting friends two hours away in Ellensburg.

Watching my daughter running around on a farm, barefoot and wearing a pretty summer dress, took my breath away. Watching my son’s excitement at touching a real, live horse for the first time took my breath away.

Realizing the colossal amount of lyrics to 80’s music known by Jenny took my breath away.

Have you ever been gone for just a little while and felt like you’d slipped into the time warp of Neverland or Oz, only to return and find everything just as it was when you left it?

It was just a day, yet I find myself wandering around the house, touching things, looking in the cupboards, wondering what has changed while I was away.

But nothing has changed: newspapers on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink, happy dog to greet me. Tomorrow will be a regular day to enjoy right here at home with new things to explore in our own back yard.

It was good to be gone, but it’s great to be home.

Northern Voice: The Moose I Almost Missed.

I have to admit that I wasn’t all that excited about coming to Northern Voice this weekend – but only because it’s been a busy month of traveling, and I was feeling overwhelmed. On the way to a party on Thursday night for friends who were in town I said to Bryan, ‘Would you be disappointed if the kids and I stayed home this weekend? I just don’t know that I have it in me.’

Bryan was great, and he talked me down from the ledge. He assured me that he wanted this to be a fun experience for me, and that he would do whatever it takes to make it work for me.

And man, did he deliver on that promise!

On Friday morning he was up early to pack for himself, let me sleep in, make me breakfast, and help me get the rest of the family going. I was so exhausted going into the weekend that I completely lost all my brain power and ability to make decisions as we approached each meal time, but he kicked into gear, found food like the cave man he is, and brought it to me.

Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

God, I love that man.

I was also skeptical about going to another blog/technical conference. I mean really, after 2 or 3 of these in a year is there REALLY anything new to say? I think I know so much. I think two years of blogging earns me a gold star on my sticker chart. But I don’t know jack, because there was definitely fresh information for me.

I learned something about myself in the process as well. I learned that I no longer want to hear what blogging is all about because I’m interested in what this new fangled web thingy is, but I want to hear what blogging is all about so I can teach OTHERS what blogging is all about. I wasn’t learning, as much as I was researching, and learning a new language, and gaining the tools to communicate my vision. Who knows, maybe next year I’ll be inspired to submit a session proposal! Regardless, I know now that there will likely always be something fresh to hear at a conference because my blogging experience will continue to evolve over time.

[Bryan is going to think that is so sexy.]

It was a full day, and the schedule worked out perfectly so Bryan and I could each attend the sessions we wanted while the other watched the kids. I had my big bag ‘o’ toys for them, a room had been set aside for kid activities, and there was a perfectly situated handicap ramp on which to run, roll, and throw balls down.

By the end of the day, without naps, the kids were drunk with exhaustion (but not with alcohol – that was just a play on words), but they were so amazingly good and fun and friendly throughout everything. Ruthie was a big hit as she ran down the hall in her dress-up heels like a true Charlie’s Angel, and Thomas drew chuckles for his ‘ladies man’ t-shirt.

I am still really tired, but this was a great way to spend a Saturday with my family – learning, loving, and playing. Thanks to the people at Northern Voice for a great time, and to my loving husband for keeping the train running.

I will post notes and thoughts on sessions this week as I have time.

On the road again / I just can’t wait to get on the road again

Because you can never pack, unpack, and repack a suitcase (or three) too many times in a two month period, we are on the road again. On the heals of our trip to Portland last weekend in which our children also went in separate directions to be cared for, I had three days to turn around this household for the next trip, and Bryan was in San Jose (can you blame me for cutting loose a little??).

We are in Vancouver, Canada, this weekend for the Northern Voice blog conference, and I am finding these events are much like family reunions in that we have the opportunity to connect offline with friendships that have been forming online. For sure I am expecting to see Ponzi, and Maryam, and Beth, and I hope to be surprised by a few more.

This is my first Northern Voice, but there have been Bloghers and Mindcamps, and weddings, and other social events in between. The tech community in the Northwest must be pretty tight because I see the same faces at many of these events, and they are encounters I look forward to.

Our drive up here this morning crossed many weather fronts, from rain to blinding snow to sun and clear skies. But we made it, and they let us in, and after we crossed the border Ruthie kept yelling, “I WANT TO GO TO CANADA!”

“We’re IN Canada, sweetheart.”

“BUT I WANT TO GO INSIDE!”

“There IS no inside, honey. Canada is a country, not a building. If you look out your window you’ll see Canadian grass.”

[now she is crying] “BUT I WANTED TO GO IN TO CANADA….”

And when we walked in to our suite at the Hampton Inn the kids ran around in circles hysterically, full of energy after the long drive. All the closet doors slide back and forth, the sugar packets for the complimentary coffee are at two-year-old eye level, and the clock radio has big white buttons on the top that change the station, so right at this moment I am listening to the sounds of the t.v., the radio, and slamming doors.

So here we are at a tech event with the Zuglets. Many of you have expressed your desire over the last few months to meet them, and now we are here, and all I have to say is, you asked for it.

Saturday Night Wine Down

Saturday night we saw Babel in a cute art house theater in North Portland (review to follow), and we stopped in to this wine bar for something to tide us over until dinner. We ordered a yummy French wine and a cheese plate, and listened to the colorful employees bickering in the kitchen. The bar tender kept apologizing and asking if we’d rather sit in the restaurant (we were at the bar), but we were just happy to be sitting in a local non-chain establishment … even IF the ‘atmosphere’ was not really what we expected!

Death to lattes. The Macchiato is my friend.

The Macchiato is my friend.

After spending the morning at Powell’s we spent the afternoon reading in a coffee shop. I’m not a big fan of sweet drinks, alcoholic or otherwise, and was not in the mood for your standard drip coffee. So I tried a macchiato, which is a shot (or two) of espresso with foam. Have you ever wanted to bathe in a cup of coffee? I wanted to lather it all over my body for the richness and foaminess it possessed – all without the yucky sweetness of flavoring or the stomach-churning dysfunction of milk.

I will never drink another latte again.

Finding Beauty in the Breakdown.

Our trip to the San Jose area couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve spent the last couple months reorganizing and reprioritizing my focus as a mother and household manager, trying to correct the part of my brain that sometimes finds it easier to focus on the latter and see the former as a distraction. I want to be present with my children. I want to enjoy them. My goal in spending ten days apart from the household duties of cleaning, laundry, and other such necessities was to develop good habits in spending time with my children.

I believe I did well in accomplishing what I set out to do. We played hide and seek. The tickle monster attacked. We went to parks and visited attractions. We left the hotel every day. We talked. And we didn’t watch t.v. Even in the midst of being away from the comforts of home, I only used the morning PBS programs to occupy Ruthie while I showered. We kept busy, and I remained focused on them until they were sleeping.

For me the pinnacle came on Monday when we visited Santa Cruz, about an hour from our hotel. We were nearly alone on a wide open beach, running around and digging in the sand with nothing but our fingers and some empty coffee cups. I stretched myself, and offered Ruthie some freedom from my control, and I watched her revel in a world with few boundaries. The beach was so empty, so expansive, and the ocean before us was so never-ending, that my need to control every situation, every moment, every move seemed insignificant. I realized how rigid I had become, how inflexible. But that morning I was able to let my children run, and I practiced trusting them, and I patiently corrected them when they wandered too far, and I became their biggest fan once again.

It was the silence, and the time, and the space provided by this trip that allowed me to grow as a parent in this way – to remember that my job is much more than just keeping them fed and clothed, but to also disciple and teach and model, and to sometimes play with them. I developed a taste for getting out, for exploring, for inspiring my children and giving them opportunities to run and jump and play – not that it couldn’t have happened in the absence of a vacation, amidst the everyday life I live, but it seems a trip to San Jose is how God chose to get through to me.

As we left the beach in Santa Cruz my kids immediately crashed into a coma, and I listened to the Garden State soundtrack. I love it for its mix. Many soundtracks have a schizophrenic feel to it, accommodating for love scenes and fight scenes and war scenes all within the same album. But the Garden State soundtrack has a vibe, and it’s a good vibe for a quiet ride home from the beach. When the song, Let Go, by Frou Frou began playing I immediately knew it was the soundtrack for the day at least, and maybe even for my overall struggle through anger and control.

You’ll know why when you hear it.

So, the video you are about to see is more than just a video scrapbook of a fun day. I had a vision for this project the moment I heard the song. It is a stone for me to carry, like the ones Much Afraid carried. It is a rock cairn to remember the path I have taken to get where I am now. It is an alter built to God, in praise of who he is, like the ones built by my spiritual forefathers in the desert.

I’m proud of this one. I hope you like it.