Mommy Bombeck

A New Era

2011-09-11T09:46:00.000-07:00

Ryan starts Kindergarten tomorrow. Gone are the mornings of sleeping in, watching cartoons, and eating cereal. Now we have to tackle breakfast, getting dressed, brushing teeth, and getting out the door and to school all before nine in the morning. For me this will be nothing short of a miracle. Having totally grown accustomed to my work schedule, it's not uncommon for me to go to bed at two am, get up with Ryan five hours later, pour the cereal, and go back to bed for a little bit. How I am supposed to actually get up and function, I have no idea. And drive too. Since we are in the "walking zone" there is no bus to pick him up in the morning.
Given that I can accomplish the huge feat of actually getting him to school....what then? Three hours every day of peace and silence. Three hours of opportunity. For the first time in five years there will be a consistent, daily block of time that is all mine. Completely empty time. To be filled however I want, with whatever I want. A new era. How strange. I think Kindergarten will be as much of an adjustment for me as it will be for Ryan.

Easy Artisan Bread

2011-02-26T09:24:00.000-08:00

I saw a post for this bread on one of my favorite blogs, Frugal Living NW. It looked so easy I had to try it. Here's how it went.
Easy Artisan Bread
yields 3 loaves

3 cups luke warm water
1.5 Tbsp active dry yeast
1.5 Tbsp coarse salt or Kosher salt, or 1 Tbsp regular salt
6.5 cups all purpose flour (I used half white flour, half wheat flour)

1. Dump all 4 ingredients into a large container. The instructions suggested a large ice cream container since it has a lid and you'll need to punch holes in the lid later. I just so happened to have a spare one of these hanging out in the cupboard, so voila! Using a wooden spoon mix it all together really well until the flour is all mixed in.

2. Put the lid on (with holes punched in for gas expansion) and let it sit in a warm spot for 2 hours. Pretty easy so far, right?

This is what it will look like at the end of the 2 hours. It will have expanded to fill the container and will look nice and bubbly.

3. Shape the dough into three loaves. Make sure your hands are well floured or else you will become one with the dough. Each loaf should be about the size of a grapefruit and nice and smooth.

At this point you can wrap the other two loaves and stick them in the fridge for 1 to 3 days or freeze them for later. I didn't have foil to wrap them so I wrapped them in parchment paper.

4. Using a serrated knife, slash the top a few times. Place the loaf on a piece of parchment paper on a baking sheet and let it "rest" for 40 minutes. For an added artisan look you can roll the bottom of the loaf in cornmeal.

Place a shallow pan (like a cake) pan in the oven and fill it with water to create steam. Bake in a 450 degree oven for 30 to 35 minutes until the outside is golden brown and it sounds hollow when you tap on it.

And there you have it. Homemade bread in four steps. If you want to see the post I read to get the instructions go here. http://www.frugallivingnw.com/frugal-homemaking/making-artisan-yeast-bread-from-scratch/

If you want more bread recipes like this one, check out the book at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0312362919?ie=UTF8&tag=frlinw-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0312362919

In the meantime, enjoy!

Which one you wanna pick?

2011-02-25T16:00:00.000-08:00

So for a while now we've been working on choices. I give Ryan two choices, both of which I can live with, and he picks the one he wants. This way, he does something I want him to do while at the same time giving him the sense that he has some control over the circumstance. For example, "Okay Ryan, you can brush your teeth and then pick your jammies, or you can pick your jammies and then brush your teeth. Which one do you want to pick?" This way he has a choice but in the end is still brushing and picking jammies.
I have also started on the idea of "chores." Before I go to work I tell Jason and Ryan that they have "chores" for the night. It goes something like this. "Okay guys I'm leaving now. Here are your chores for tonight. First, finish dinner. Second, put your dishes in the sink. Third, put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket." Then I'm off to work. Getting chores done before Mommy gets home seems to be good motivation for them to do stuff.
This afternoon Ryan presented me with a strange mix of these two concepts. Here it was.
"Okay Mommy. You have five chores. Number one, you work and I go to Dylan's and play. Number two, I go to Dylan's to do chores. Number three, I go to Dylan's and do some work. Number four, I go to Dylan's and do some more work. Number five, I go to Dylan's and do some more work again. Okay. Which one you wanna pick?

Sorry, lost my mind for a while

2010-12-18T19:28:00.000-08:00

Apparently, I have skipped an entire season. Sorry Fall. What can I say? Ryan started pre-school. Jason started working in Bend. I got a new job back in the lab at Providence. And time flew. Now it's the week before Christmas and a family sized bout of pneumonia has slowed us down to a crawl. Literally. So I thought I'd write, catch up a bit. Nah, at this point pictures will do a better job. Here we go.

Here are some shots of Ryan when we went to the beach last summer. He was posing on some driftwood for me. What a big boy!

Also last summer, he discovered cowboys.
And super hero's. More on that later.

And here is his very first day of preschool.

Ah, the beginning of the Spider-man obsession.

And as we got closer and closer to Halloween, Ryan found Iron Man, and then it was all over.

When Jason started working in Bend and I was working at Providence, Wednesday night became Ryan's night to stay over at Uncle Greg's house. Here is a shot of his bedroom. He is so proud of it.

During part of the long Thanksgiving weekend, Jason took Ryan over to Bend to stay the night at his hotel and play in the snow. They made snow angels, had chocolate chip cookies and hot cocoa, and Ryan was so excited to tell me, "I threw a smowball at Daddy's beans!"

And finally, the most recent picture of me. Lovely, isn't it? Here I am in the hospital, on oxygen and IV antibiotics. Happy to be breathing and taken care of by the wonderful nurses at Willamette Falls Hospital.

And that's about it. At this point, my biggest Christmas wish is that my family is healthy enough to enjoy the holidays ahead and thankful enough to appreciate all the fun days behind.

Ryan the pirate

2010-07-25T08:45:00.000-07:00

Ryan walks up, hands me the hanker-chief and tells me he wants to be a pirate. I put the hanker-chief on his head, absent minded. I am not paying attention. I look up to see him walking away. Totally naked. Except for the pirate scarf on his head.

My not so green thumb

2010-07-23T21:30:00.000-07:00

Okay, so it was not the best year to dive into the world of raised bed gardening. Let me also put it out there that I hate doing yard work. So I have no idea why I thought I would like gardening. Didn't think that one through very well. I like house plants. I always considered myself to be sort of a green thumb as far as they were concerned. As it turns out though, what I like about a garden is the idea of a garden. And that's where my affection ends. I don't like weeds, hard dirt, ants, snails, plants that don't grow, plants that die, sun that doesn't shine, rain that doesn't stop, weeds that masquerade as "herbs", flowers I mistake for lemon cucumber starts...the list is never ending.
I should begin by saying that when we looked at this house I was thrilled to see four raised garden beds in the back yard, basking in it's full sun glory. Our first house was a rental and had about two square feet in the front to plant a flower, which I did every year we lived there. Impatiens. It was super shady. Our next house was on a huge lot with a huge front yard and an even huger back yard. While we lived here I worked full time until our son was born. Totally overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place, I continued my previous routine of planting a couple small flowers right by the front door and calling it good. Then we moved to Washington. Our housing development, we discovered later was built by a rock quarry. This became evident the second I tried to plant some shasta daisies my uncle gave me. They died and that was the extent of digging in the dirt at that house. Then we moved again. This time to a nice sized lot with a nice sized front yard and a cute little back yard complete with raised beds. It seemed my dream of a garden was about to come true.
Since we moved here in the middle of the summer, I didn't plant anything last year. And then came the Fall when I got a new pair of pruning shears and all hell broke loose. I completely hacked five fuchsia bushes to the ground. Convinced I was doing a fantastic job, I clipped and snipped them into oblivion. When I stood back and looked at what I had done, I almost cried. I was barely able to prune back the two hydrangea's before I put the clippers away and vowed never to touch them again. It was a long, barren, fuchsia skeleton filled winter.
Spring came eventually though, and with it some life in the form of blooming lilac bushes. Then came the oh so wonderful daphne bush which made me happy every time I smelled it. The peonies started blooming and before I knew it, it there was lots to do. I had made a decision. I was going to plant a vegetable garden.
I knew I needed to turn up the soil and get it soft for planting. I read articles on the internet about raised bed gardening. I downloaded a pdf file that was full of tips of what to do when. I got and read a couple of books. Then I waited for the rain to stop. I waited for a very long time. When it finally did, I went out there with my little tools and, over the course of several days, turned the soil of three of the beds. I was so proud of myself. They looked pretty even without plants in them.
Next came a trip to the store to buy seeds. I had decided to start from seed because it was cheaper than buying plants. Bad move. First, I had no idea what I was doing. Second, I had no idea what I was doing! After waiting another few weeks for a relatively nice day, I planted marigold seeds in the bed I was going to put tomatoes in later, cilantro seeds, lemon cucumbers, carrots, and nasturtium. I started hot peppers inside in an egg carton. Then it started raining again. A lot. So I waited some more. I am still embarrassed at what happened next.
I never did see any cilantro or marigolds come up. They must have died in the cold wet weather. The nasturtiums germinated well. The lemon cucumbers took off like gang busters. At least I thought they were lemon cucumbers. They were in the spot where I planted the lemon cucumbers at least. There were so many of them I wasn't sure what I would do with them all, so I posted free lemon cucumber starts on freecycle. I had several complete strangers come out in the pouring rain to dig up little starts and take them home to their own gardens. It wasn't until several of the "lemon cucumbers" sprouted up in the other beds and in between the beds that I realized they weren't lemon cucumbers at all, but the little orange flowers I had seen the year before in that spot. I still don't know what they are called, but they are resilient little guys, I'll tell you that. I was so angry at those damn flowers I pulled every last one of them out of the ground. Until a couple of more weeks went by and more sprouted in their place. Then I gave up and let them have it. I never did ever grow a single lemon cucumber.
I did, however, manage to grow a few carrots. Which is where I discovered the gigantic ant nests. Millions and millions of little black ants. Hundreds and hundreds of little white ant larvae. Makes my skin crawl just to think about them. I was so freaked I ran into the house, got the box of Borax, and dumped almost the whole thing on the ant nests. There were three of them. Unfortunately for the carrots, Jason looked up Borax and ants and the whole thing on the internet after he came home from work that night. I suppose I don't blame him for being worried when he saw the three huge piles of white powder mixed in with the carrots he would soon be eating. As it turns out that's not the way you are supposed to do it. Something about mixing the Borax with water or some other liquid and putting little bowls out for the ants to crawl into and eat it. Something about Borax causing cancer after lab rats ingested it. And that was the end of the carrots.
I can't remember exactly when but I know it was sometime after Mother's day when I bought two tomato plants and stuck them in the ground. I was going to plant basil seeds in that same bed, but since the marigolds and cilantro never came up, I caved and just bought a plant. It was completely obliterated by snails in two days and now only the little plastic marker remains to remind me how much I hate those snails. As I was inspecting the ground trying to find any remaining shred of basil evidence, I realized what I thought were weeds nearby were actually mint plants shooting up. I had completely forgotten that I had planted a mint last year. It must have gone to seed and those seeds must have been dormant in the soil or something. Half of that bed is full of mint now.
Around that same time, I planted the hot peppers I had grown in the egg carton. Then we had a heat wave and all but one died. It's two inches tall now. It's the end of July. It's not going to happen.
About ten days ago, I found the packet of sunflower seeds I had forgotten about in a drawer in the kitchen. I all but threw them on the ground and left them to fend for themselves. They are a foot high today. Eaten by snails yes, but holding their own so far.
I haven't decided what I will do next year. The beds themselves are in pretty bad shape. One of the sides of the second bed is literally crumbling away. I, apparently, am like the opposite of a gardener. The plants I try to kill won't die. The plants I forget about are taking over one of the beds. The plants I nurture and put effort into either never sprout or die almost instantly. The only seed I planted that actually turned into anything remotely resembling anything were the nasturtium flowers. Which my mom says you can eat, but since they are in the same bed as the Borax, we'll pass. At this point I am seriously considering digging the whole entire thing up and planting grass. Or letting Jason plant the grass, since I'm sure he'll want the grass to actually grow.
The only saving grace of this whole gardening experience are those five fuchsia bushes. They came back. Well, four of them did anyway. And they look beautiful. They are full and blooming and lovely. See? My thumb is a very light shade of green after all.

Questions and answers

2010-06-13T21:15:00.000-07:00

I observed the following conversation between my husband and my son tonight.
Ryan, "Hey Daddy, why are our buns on the back?"
Jason, "Well, uh, because that's where they are honey."
Ryan, "Why aren't our buns on our front?"
Jason, "Because our peeps are on the front. How would we go peep if our buns were on the front?"
Ryan, "Well, if took our peep off, we would have room for our buns."
Jason is totally stopped in his tracks....."Um, well that would hurt."

Sometimes the explanations are as funny as the questions.

After our rest

2010-05-25T20:38:00.000-07:00

My dad is notorious in our family for saying super funny stuff when he is tired. Beyond tired really, into the silly zone. I think a tiny bit of this has been passed down to Ryan, because I swear some of the greatest stuff comes out of his mouth right before he falls asleep. Today at nap time was yet again, another blog worthy moment.
We are laying down ready for nap when Ryan rolls over, and the conversation goes like this.

Ryan "Hey, I have an idea."
Me "What's that honey?"
Ryan "After our rest we could go to Fred Meyer."
Me "What do we need at Fred Meyer honey?"
Ryan "Well, we could go to Fred Meyer and look at the clothes, and get some steak, and some ham, and some sugar, and some food for Weedie. Did we run out of Weedie food?"
Me (trying not to laugh) "No, I just got some food for Weedie."
Ryan "Well, then we can get some food for Sammydo."

And then he rolls back over.

Warm tats

2010-05-25T20:22:00.000-07:00

I am working at the computer in the office. I am wearing my jammy pants and a t-shirt. Ryan comes in and hands me a tank top he found in the clean laundry pile. "Here, Mommy. Go ahead and put this on." I decide to play along. I put the tank top over my t-shirt and look to see his approval. He smiles hugely, pats my boob and says, "see, now your tats will stay nice and warm."

Ryan's nap time story

2010-05-24T21:04:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when we are all snuggled down and ready to take a rest we will tell stories. If I am telling the story they always start with, "Once upon a time there was a little boy named Ryan..." and then I make stuff up from there. Lately Ryan has been telling me stories. His start like this, "Once upon a time there was a great Mommy..." No kidding. It is so cute. So here is Ryan's story from today. I will try to get it as verbatim as I can remember.

"Once upon a time there was a great Mommy. And she was a super hero. And she would fly around and around and around. And she would get bad guys. She was a great super hero. And she would get them with her laser arm. The end."

And less than two minutes later he was totally asleep. It was awesome.

Apparently my faculties are no match for the new facilities

2010-05-22T05:41:00.000-07:00

Is it me or have public bathrooms become sort of mind boggling? Between automatic sensing faucet control, auto soap and paper towel sensors, and toilets that flush themselves, I seriously cannot keep up. I find myself doing a new sort of body sign language in the bathroom now. Either the auto flusher flushes while I am still actually using the toilet, which scares the crap out of me (no pun intended), or I end up standing on one leg, sort of high kicking the toilet sensor with the other foot. Then the gesturing continues at the sink. I glide my hands under the faucet over and over to get enough water, under the soap dispenser, again under the water, and if, miraculously, all that goes well, find myself waving hello to a large black box mounted on the wall in the hopes that it will dispense the two square inches it thinks will be sufficient to dry my hands.
But here's where it really gets bad. No two public bathrooms are alike. Some have auto toilet flushers, some don't. Some have handles to flush the toilet, some have those little black buttons it is impossible to depress with your shoe. Some have sensors that turn on the water, some still have (gasp) handles which allow water to flow freely at the users discretion. Some bathrooms have manual soap pumps, some don't.
And as if all this variety isn't bad enough, the diversity in paper towel dispensers is downright silly. You've got the hand crank, the pull out and another will follow, the little finger holed side turney knob, the automatic dispensers, the trifold single sheets...the list goes on and on. I actually once dried my hands in a high powered suction contraption made by the Dyson vacuum cleaner company. I held my hands in this little hand slot, which of course sensed them automatically, and this super loud, moderately scary suction began which literally sucked every ounce of moisture from my hands in like less than 20 seconds. Bizarre.
So if you see me in a public bathroom gesturing with arms and legs, bending at the waist to look at the faucet, waving at various inanimate objects over and over again, staring blankly at a faucet which clearly has an old fashioned handle and wondering why it won't turn on by itself...don't worry. It's just me trying to wash my hands.

Top ten worst things about being a perfectionist

2010-04-24T15:18:00.001-07:00

10.
9.
8.
7.
6.
5.
4.
3.
2.
1.

Comparison vs. Contentedness

2010-04-23T09:48:00.000-07:00

Maybe its just me. Maybe its my out of whack brain chemistry, a product of my childhood, a bad habit allowed to run free for too many years, I'm not sure. Do other people do it? Does she do it? Who knows? But there I go again, comparing myself to others.
I think there is a natural tendency to judge ourselves, to evaluate how we are doing in life. How are things going? Are we accomplishing our goals? How do we need to adjust to our current situation? Comparing who we are to who we want to be, to who God made us to be. How else do we grow? I think this kind of comparison is good to do. But the other kind, the kind where we compare ourselves to other people, that's where we can start to go off track.
She has a better sense of style. She is skinnier. She is more spiritual. She has nicer hair. She is a better decorator. Her kids are more well behaved. Her kids go to bed at a normal hour. She is this and that and the other thing...better than I am. Nothing can destroy the possibility of being content with what you have/who you are faster than comparing yourself to someone else in this way. And sometimes we don't even realize we are doing it. We just have this vague sense that we are inadequate. And this is definitely not taking any thought captive. This is the opposite. This is letting our thoughts drag us through the mud.
From 2Cor. chapter 10:5 "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."
Okay, so what exactly is the knowledge of God? What does God know about me (besides everything)? Wait. I think that's the point, actually. He KNOWS everything about me and still calls me His workmanship according to Eph 2:10. Whoa. So I need to demolish the argument that I am inadequate. And how do I do that exactly? By Phil 4:8 that's how. "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy- THINK ABOUT SUCH THINGS." (my emphasis) How will I have time to compare my self to other people and consequently feel crappy about myself if I am thinking about such things?
So, the fact that I have bare white walls, wear my hair in a pony tail everyday, and don't own a pair of high heeled shoes IS FINE. It's not that I am okay in spite of these things. It's that I'm okay because of these things. Because He made me who I am. I am His workmanship. And if His workmanship has bare white walls and wears a pony tail everyday and flip flops instead of cutesy girlie high heels...I can be content with that.

Couldn't they have given him a different name?

2010-04-22T06:28:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago we borrowed the movies Toy Story and Toy Story 2 from a friend. I can't even begin to guess how many times we have watched them. This was around Easter time, so instead of a traditional Easter basket with candy, we got Ryan a Buzz Lightyear toy. Apparently, however, Buzz wasn't enough. He also wanted Buzz's companion, Woody. We waited a couple weeks, enduring the asking that turned to begging, which turned to negotiation, which turned to delusion. "But Mommy! Today is my Birthday! Can we get Woody for my Birthday?" Yeah right, like that's gonna work dude. But in the end, much to my husband's dismay, I caved. It was Walmart that did me in. We were there to buy dog food, and we walked out with a Woody.
Enter me and my mind in the gutter, and the constant giggling that was the rest of the afternoon. Ryan..."Mommy, tell Daddy I got a Woody!" "Buzz, see my new Woody?" The best though was when we were on the phone with Gramma Mo. Having not seen either movie, she had no idea who Woody was. "Gramma Mo! Guess what? I got a Woody!" Stunned silence on the other end of the line. Little giggle. Me, glad I'm not the only one, "Mo, Woody is a cowboy character from the movie Toy Story. Ryan got the Woody doll today at Walmart." Mo, "Oh, okay (giggle, giggle) I was wondering..." Sheesh, couldn't they have given him a different name?

I wanna be Stephenie Meyer

2010-04-15T09:33:00.000-07:00

I want to wake up from a dream so great, so real, so captivating, that I drop everything (except for the kids breakfast) and write it down. I want to be so consumed with it that I continue writing just so I can know what happens to the people in the story. I want to get to know them, picture what they look like, and immerse myself in their world. Then I want to publish that story and become a bu-zillionaire. Right. Like that's ever gonna happen.
Instead, what I do is find myself awake at 3:47 am coming up with blog titles in my head. I actually started writing one this morning at said unholy hour. It was brilliant. It was witty and engaging. I have absolutely no idea what it was about now. O well. Maybe I'll put one of those little journals on the nightstand so I can jot stuff down in my sleep. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll have a Stephenie Meyer dream and a cascade of brilliance will flow over from my unconsciousness.
Yeah. Maybe not. I guess I'll settle for that little journal.

Is it me or...

2010-04-13T07:59:00.000-07:00

Are the toilet paper rolls getting narrower?
Is it always rainy when I want to go outside, and sunny when I want to nap?
Are Jim and Pam like the greatest TV couple of all time?
Is having a dog like having a baby, a preschooler, and a teenager all rolled into one? Always cleaning up poop, always putting toys away, and always loading up a food bowl...
Do headaches seem to strike at the worst possible times?
Have Facebook games lost their appeal?
Is there absolutely no point to caffeine free pop?
Does my shirt actually say "Wipe your nose and/or face and/or hands on me?"
Did the movie Food Inc. make anyone else want to become a vegetarian?
Is anyone else extremely grateful for the drive through pharmacy?
Does anyone else wish they would make a drive through post office?
Does Sam always seem to bark right as I am falling into unconsciousness?
Does that giant tub of yogurt always seem to go bad before I can finish it?
Is Friends the best TV show ever?
Did my b**t get bigger, or did these pants get shorter?
Does the phrase "solitary confinement" actually sound pretty awesome sometimes?

Spring Cleaning

2010-04-13T06:56:00.000-07:00

I don't know if it is a real phenomenon, or if it's just because I am reading about other people doing it, but the spring cleaning bug has hit me hard. Instead of doing regular things like dishes and laundry, I find myself doing things like moving furniture and scrubbing baseboards. Just the other day I used a too strong solution of Pine Sol to scrub said baseboards and burned off at least two layers of skin on my hands. No joke. I even emailed the Mrs. Meyers customer service to inquire about their Rhubarb scented Spring Cleaning Kit they sold last year and when would it be available this year? It won't by the way, just in case you were looking forward to it too. I have washed windows, bleached curtains, purged the magazine stack...I even toyed with the idea of removing every scrap of paper, finger painting pictures, and magnets off of the refrigerator. I guess this entry will serve as a warning. If you come over and see dishes spilling out of the sink and laundry in the hallway, and then notice I am missing some furniture and a few layers of skin, you'll know whats going on.

Doin' the deals

2010-04-10T18:00:00.000-07:00

So for the last several weeks I have been following a few different blogs on frugal living and homemaking. I have really enjoyed reading how other women approach different aspects of being a homemaker. Sheesh, what an old fashioned word. It turns out the forgotten art of homemaking is alive and well and anything and everything you might want to know about the new hip homemaker is a just few clicks away. One piece of this that is of particular interest to me is the whole world of couponing.
I used to subscribe and pay for a service which would track store sales and coupons and match them up to generate a weekly "list." But thanks to www.frugallivingnw.com, www.moneysavingmom.com, www.thriftynorthwestmom.com, and www.thriftyandthriving.com I have been able to do some amazing deals the last two weeks. And these awesome ladies do all the tracking for me. And I don't have to pay them. I just follow their blogs and voila, sweet deals on groceries.
Two weeks ago I actually went to a coupon class offered by frugallivingnw.com author Angela. Not only was the class super informative, but she made it fun and doing the deals like a game which helped me be not so intimidated by the information overload of it all. She had great ideas on organizing too, which as you know is right up my alley. She defined the goal of couponing to be to get brand name items either free or significantly cheaper than their generic counterparts. Also, couponing is about stockpiling up on items when they are either free or very inexpensive rather than buying them when you need them at full price.

So here's what I did last week.
I went to Walgreen's and Fred Meyer. At Walgreen's I bought a box of Post Shredded Wheat cereal, an Airwick iMotion Starter Kit, a Reeses peanut butter cup candy, and a pack of Wrigley gum. After store sales and coupons, I spent $0.81.
At Fred Meyer I bought two cans of Cambell's cream of mushroom soup, a box of envelopes, a bag of Halls cough drops, and a 5 pound bag of flour. I spent $3.08.
The grand total for last week was $3.89.

This week I was a bit more adventurous and went to three stores. First I hit up Walgreen's for a box of the new U Kotex panty liners and three 2-packs of the new Pilot Frixion gel pens. After store sales, coupons, and a rebate from Pilot I actually made $3.93. No kidding. They actually paid me to take the stuff home.
Next was Fred Meyer. Right now they are having a deal where if you buy ten of the participating items you can get a free movie ticket, 15 free mp3 downloads, or free ringtones. Knowing Jason is planning a "guys night out," I went for the movie ticket. I bought one box of fruit snacks, 4 bottles of Sobe Life water, 1 box of Snuggle dryer sheets, 2 bags of Kraft shredded cheese, and 2 tubs of Smart Balance butter spread. After store sales and coupons, I spent $11.18 and got one free movie ticket. Lets say a movie ticket is worth about $9, I figure those groceries actually cost me around $2.18.
Last was Safeway. I bought a 46 oz. V8 Frusion, two gallons of milk, a package of Johnsonville brats, one Colgate toothpaste, a bag of fish crackers, one Knorr chicken and rice side kit, and a package of crab. After store sales and coupons I spent $8.53.
The grand total this week for all the stuff in the photo above (minus the crackers and one Sobe which my boys are enjoying while fishing at the park) and the free movie ticket was $15.78.

You might say its a lot of work for not that much in return. For us though, living on one income, we are always trying to make our dollars stretch as far as we can. And for a girl who gave up her lab coat for legos and laundry baskets, this has become a super fun way I can do something to support my husband in providing for our family. So thanks ladies, I'm having a blast doin' the deals!

Just like his Grandpa

2010-04-08T09:22:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl my dad tricked me into giving him back rubs by inventing a game called Earthquake Time. He would lay on the floor on his tummy and I would walk up and down his back waiting for the "earthquake." Suddenly, he would wiggle and yell, "Earthquake time, earthquake time!!!!" and I would try, unsuccessfully, to ride out the earthquake. I thought this was great fun of course, and we would play "the game" over and over again. Good one Dad. As an adult Earthquake time is long gone, but the deed is done. Whenever I see my dad he flops a foot in my lap. He doesn't even need to speak anymore, I am so well trained. A hand flung in my direction, a shoulder shrugged up and down and there I am, a well trained daughter.
In my dad's defense I do have to add a bit to the story here. Now that I get the game, we do swaps. Mo always laughs at us because we're so predictable. We're always sitting on the couch across from each other, feet in laps. And in reality, it's not very one sided anymore. I am just as much as a hand flinger or shoulder shrugger as my dad.
So now that Ryan's getting bigger, I decided to follow suit and teach Ryan to do the same. I figure my time has come and it's my turn to get back rubs by the slave labor of my child. But I missed a crucial point. I forgot to be tricky. I didn't make it a game. I assumed, wrongly it turns out, that if I gave Ryan back rubs, foot rubs, hand rubs, head rubs etc. that he would give them to me too. Nope. Wrong.
Instead of having this deal come full circle I find myself in the same place. Except now its a smaller foot, a smaller back, a smaller hand flung at me.
The other day I was sort of petting Ryan's hair and I stopped. He looked at me and said, "Mommy! Finish my hair rub."
At night when we are getting ready for bed he will fling a foot at me. "Give me a foot rub. No not like that, like this. Wait, you're not done. Okay, now do this one." Sheesh. He is just like his Grandpa.

Ryan one-liners

2010-03-06T08:27:00.000-08:00

Looking up at an airplane flying in the sky..."I want to go sleep on that airplane. It's soooooo interesting!"
Pulling into the parking lot at the pizza place..."There's something screwy in this parking lot."
Looking at my armpit as I stretch my shoulders..."Oh no! What happened? There's pokies on there too!"
Replying to my request to clean up his legos..."I can't. I'm not good at it. You can Mommy, you're good at cleaning up" (big smile on his face)
Sitting on the potty..."Okay. I'm gonna tell you a story. You and me and Daddy and Sammydo and Grandpa Apple and Nanny and Baby Noah Thi and Weedie and Pumba and Daddy and me and you (whispers) are going to go up in a rocket ship in space this night."
Pointing to a zit on my chin..."Who did that to you?!"
Driving in the car..."Mommy, it was really hot in the Jurassic period."
Getting ready for a nap..."I so do love you Mommy."

Ryan words

2010-03-04T16:27:00.000-08:00

When Ryan was a little younger, he couldn't pronounce "sp" words. He made an "f" sound instead. Special was fecial, Spider-man was Fider-man, and spoon was foon. These, like so many others, passed quickly and are gone. Like the time when he was a baby and stuck his tongue out the left side of his mouth for like five days. That was it. Then it was over. Luckily, we had the presence of mind to snap a few shots of this short lived cuteness. Anyway, now he can say special, Spider-man, and spoon just fine. And the cuteness of that little stage is over.
When he was first learning to talk, he had these little made up words for things. Sometime around one and a half he was drinking a bottle before bed, and he stopped pointed to the bottle and said, "This...nana." From that point on anything to drink was nana. I have no idea why. It just was. Onnie was for orange. Sudu was cereal. Hubba was helicopter. Okeem was airplane. Mosko was motorcycle. Simmie was excuse me. But all those words have gone too. Replaced by the grown up words spoken by a grown up boy.
He's three and a half now and there are only a precious few of these little "Ryan words" left. Around the time of onnie the orange, came also zoot the granola bar. To this day granola bars are still zoots. Granola bars have been zoots for so long that they are zoots to us too! I wonder how long they will stay zoots. Secretly, I hope forever.
Several months ago he latched onto the word "snuggle." Only its a Ryan word. Its "smuggle." We smuggle in the rocking chair. We smuggle in bed. We smuggle and play the fish game. (He totally loves Happy Aquarium on Facebook) We smuggle ALL THE TIME. Again, I wonder how long it will last. Again, I secretly hope forever.
I know as he grows these "Ryan words" will all eventually go the way of Fider-man, foon, and fecial. I am proud of him and how fast he is learning to master language. I beam at compliments from other parents and teachers about how verbal he is. But, I have to admit, there is a tiny part of me that will always want to smuggle in the rocking chair. And maybe eat a zoot together.

Cologne and Ben Gay

2010-02-28T15:16:00.000-08:00

A friend and I recently went to a department store to look for mens cologne. In my entire marriage (going on ten years!) I have never bought my husband cologne. In fact, I can't actually remember the last time I bought cologne or perfume. Apparently, the cologne counter is a world of its own. Talk about overwhelming. It all smells SO good. For me though, after a few minutes, everything starts to smell the same. Not so for my friend, who by the way shall remain nameless so as not to embarrass her for all eternity. My friend drifted through the displays, smelling, eyes rolled back in her head, sort of in a trance. Don't get me wrong, I like cologne as well as the next girl, but my friend was actually sighing from one yummy bottle to another. "Are you okay?" I ask, concerned. "You gotta get me outta here" she whispers to me. She explains how her husband has to work early and would not be too happy to be awakened by her "all hot and bothered" (her words) by a trip to the cologne counter. Laughing, we purchase my gift and giggle all the way home.
The next day I get a text message from my friend. "Problem solved. I got home and my husband smelled like Ben Gay. Total turn off!"

The things I've learned since becoming a SAHM

2010-02-22T16:35:00.000-08:00

I learned SAHM means stay at home mom, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Before this journey began I was a totally different person. And I don't just mean emotionally and physically, though those particular topics could be blogs in and of themselves (read the destruction of self and bladder control all rolled into one,) I mean intellectually. I swear I used to be a smart person. I went to college. I had a job. I wore a lab coat for crying out loud! But since this new "job" started, I have slowly morphed into someone I am not sure I recognize anymore, intellectually speaking. So, I decided to come up with a list of things I have LEARNED over the last three and a half years to prove to myself that a) I still have the ability to learn, and 2) I actually HAVE learned. So here goes.
1. I've learned how to bathe, feed, change, and otherwise take care of a baby.
2. I've learned all about colic.
3. I've learned how bad it hurts to step on a lego.
4. I've learned how to make home made play-doh.
5. I've learned several Disney movies by heart.
6. I've learned if I don't shower every day, I feel like a slob.
7. I've learned that eating in the car is a big mistake.
8. I've learned that bad things can happen with a Sharpie marker. (sorry Sam)
9. I've learned how to crochet toys.
10. I've learned poison control's phone number.
11. I've learned compassion for the other mothers at the grocery store who have grumpy kids.
12. I've learned (although I rarely actually practice) doing my dishes every night makes the morning better.
13. I've learned to look for misplaced items in VERY strange places.
14. I've learned to let some of the littler things go...ie the pink slime growing in the toilet.
15. I've learned I actually do have a creative side. Mmm....beads :)

Now here is a list of things I am still TRYING to grasp.
1. I'm learning how to float instead of swim. (thanks Nan)
2. I'm learning how to remember I am, in fact, a woman and not just a mother.
3. I'm learning how to calm down.
4. I'm learning how to appreciate the little things.
5. I'm learning the words "organized, clean, and simple" don't necessarily go with the SAHM territory.

I may not be looking into a microscope every day, wearing my lab coat and talking to doctors. I may not be running complex machines, reporting important results, and talking about things like CBC's, TSH's, ANA's, and HCG's. I may not do any of that for a really long time. So long actually that I forget it all. (gasp!) But, I'll tell you, this is harder and more rewarding, and more interesting, and more challenging, and more fun than any of that.

Ryan the sponge

2010-02-21T20:11:00.000-08:00

Ryan's language skills and understanding of the world around him are growing at what seems to be an exponential rate. He is continually learning new concepts and ideas and experiencing the world around him in new and exciting ways as his knowledge of it grows. Sometimes, watching him, we are in awe and feel so blessed to be the parents of this little sponge of a miracle. Sometimes we are convicted and reminded to be always striving to be better people ourselves so that we can be good role models for him. And sometimes we just crack up laughing because what comes out of his mouth is just so darn funny.
We are in awe when, driving in the car, completely out of the blue he tells us that "God made me and you, and Daddy." We are blessed when he spontaneously begins to pray by himself. We melt when he prays for us. On the other hand, we totally crack up when he asks us (since Jesus lives in his heart) if Jesus "likes" whatever food he happens to be eating. "Maybe Jesus likes chicken?" Or when he opens his mouth as far as it will go and commands, "Mommy, talk to Jesus!" Its so fun to watch him process ideas and concepts as he learns.
Then again, sometimes its not so much learning as it is repeating without learning. Like the other night when I was talking to Jason and used a less than appropriate word in front of Ryan. Don't freak out. I said the word "pissed." Of course, immediately, Ryan squeals "pissed, pissed." Great. Nice job Tiff. Way to go on the whole role model thing.
Other times its not so immediate. He will repeat words or phrased we have used before, but its totally obvious he doesn't understand what he is saying at all. For example, the other day he was having a hard time with Sam and he yells, "Sam! You're killing my attitudes!" Huh? Earlier this evening, we were hanging out together and talking about all the nicknames we have called him. He said he didn't want to be called nicknames anymore, he just wants us to call him Ryan. I say, "Can I call you Greepy?" "No, just call me Ryan. Greepy is gross." Confused I ask, "Greepy is gross?" "Yes," he continues "Greepy is gross to my feelings." We are in hysterics over this.
I am sure as he grows there will be more of these little one liners. I am sure we will laugh a ton, probably cry a little, and hopefully learn with him along the way. I am reminded of a song that says "I wanna be just like You, cause he wants to be just like me..." And ultimately that is our goal. Help us to be just like You, because he wants to be just like us.

Beach Weekend

2010-02-18T09:58:00.000-08:00

So Jason surprised us with a trip to the beach for Valentine's Day. He found a hotel that was "dog friendly" so we could take Sam with us. It was awesome! The hotel was super nice, right on the beach, and across from Mo's, which by the way does a mean grilled salmon. With no little tourist trap shops close by to lure me in, we spent most of our four days on the beach playing, throwing the ball for Sam, looking for shells, agates, and the ever elusive "glass floats" that are supposedly hidden all around the 7+ miles of Lincoln City beaches. We never did find a float which leads me to believe they are a big hoax to get people to visit during the winter months. Okay, maybe not. It could be that I just didn't happen to luck out and find one, but the other explanation makes me feel better.
Right off the bat on our first walk with Sam down to the beach Ryan had us cracking up. Sam was so excited and ready to get out of the van, he was really pulling on the leash. Ryan yells, in his very serious, very cute sounding three year old voice, "SAM! HELL! SAM, HELL! HELL SAM!!!"
We also spent a couple of hours exploring the Oregon Coast Aquarium in Newport. It is very cool with lots of exhibits and a huge touch tank where you can play with "Nemo's house", aka sea anemones. I put in a couple of pictures from our aquarium visit. If I can ever figure out how to get pictures off my phone, I will add some of us on the beach too.

My air

2010-02-03T17:33:00.000-08:00

As I was getting Ryan ready for a nap today he displayed honesty as only a child can do. We were snuggling together, having a couple of quiet moments before napping. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He wrinkled his nose at me and said, "Mommy, your air is stinky." Hmm. Apparently I have bad breath. Nice.

Warning. TMI for sure, but I can't help it.

2010-01-16T12:50:00.001-08:00

Okay, so I'll apologize to Ryan now for writing this one, but I just can't help myself. First, an explanation. Like all good nicknames do, the word we use for Ryan's private parts just sort of evolved. We use the word "peep." We use this word for what you do in the potty and for the "unit" itself. I have no idea how we came up with this, like I said, it just evolved. "Do you need to go peep in the potty?" In the bath tub, "make sure you wash your peep." Anyway, there it is. TMI though it may be.
Here's the good part though. This morning he comes up to me, no pants on, and tells me that he got a scratch. He climbs up on the bed and lays down to show me. His testicles are all red. "Mommy, I was taking my pants off, and I got a scratch on my peep tank!"
I almost "peeped" my pants I was laughing so hard.

Pokies

2010-01-01T18:52:00.000-08:00

So when Ryan got his stitches he called them pokies. They were poky. Little black knots with little black ends poking out. You know the kind right? Black, flexible like thread, but thicker and super heavy duty. Well the pokies are long gone and we are all happy about that. But, man this kid has a brain like a sponge. So last night we were snuggling in the rocking chair and I had my legs crossed with his feet tucked in the middle under them. I was wearing some capri length yoga pants and so sitting like that, my calves were exposed. With his little feet and toes gently moving back and forth across my leg, he stiffens suddenly. He turns to me and asks, "Mommy, why do you have pokies on your legs?" Needless to say, I shaved my legs this morning.

Year End Update

2009-12-31T09:17:00.000-08:00

So it's been quite a while since I last wrote. A lot has happened since October! My sister came to visit for three weeks with her little muffin of a kiddo and we had a blast playing, going to the zoo, going to OMSI, and basically having a great time.
In November Jason got his tonsils taken out. That was a rough three weeks. During that time I got bronchitis, which eventually became walking pneumonia. I am just now getting over that. Cough, cough.
Also during this time Ryan got bitten in the face by a dog. Urgent care, stitches, swelling, ointment, more swelling, more ointment. It was not fun. He has a couple of scars, but is otherwise unscathed. Thank God.
Just a few short weeks after the dog bite came another ER visit for Ryan after he swallowed a button battery. Call the poison control center (for the second time in three years), rush to the ER, xray, waiting room. Ta-da! Look at that! What a shiny, lovely battery right there in your stomach honey! Following the battery swallowing came two weeks of "looking" for it at the other end. I won't go into details. Suffice it to say, it was a smelly ordeal. Since we never "found" it, we went to the doctor a couple of days ago for another xray, and, again Thank God, the battery is gone. "He musta slipped it by ya!" The doctor says with a sly grin. Nice. At least we don't have to look for it anymore.
And before we knew it, it was Christmas and we were jetting off to Gig Harbor and Anacortes to spend time with the Grandparents. We logged a lot of miles this Christmas, but it was well worth it. We had a great time visiting and playing together, and were happily tuckered out by the time we got home.
And today is New Year's Eve. With all the excitement of the last couple of months, I think we will spend the last day of the year in our pajamas!

Cake

2009-10-12T08:04:00.000-07:00

Nap time yesterday. We were tucking in, taking sips of water, saying prayers, and generally getting settled down. Ryan was stalling a little bit. He started gesturing with his hands and explaining to me that "when we get done with our rest, we can eat this cake." I go along with it. "Oh, honey that cake looks great. Did you make it for us?" "Yes, I did. It's got chocolate, peanuts, macaroni, onions, strawberries, and juice!" I pause as I picture such a cake. "Wow honey. That sounds great!" I have no idea how he came up with this combination, but I just go with it.

Jesus continued...

2009-10-08T09:08:00.001-07:00

Ok, I couldn't help myself. I am a picker. I have always been a picker. It's hereditary. I get it from...one of my parents who shall remain nameless so as not to embarrass. At least I have stopped biting my nails. My cuticles, on the other hand, another story. But this post is not about me. Well, not directly. Just get that I am a picker.
You might remember we've been having lots of discussions with Ryan about how Jesus heals us and how He lives in our hearts. We have talked about how Jesus is healing Ryan's "bubbles." Ryan tells us every day about how "Jesus makes my fee better." So, enter me. The picker. You have to understand, Ryan has these blisters everywhere. They are not soft like water blisters. They are hard and getting harder as they heal. I was curious. I wanted to know if they were gonna burst grody virus juice everywhere or if they were gonna just return from whence they came, so to speak. So, I grabbed Ryan's finger in one hand, and a piece of paper towel in another hand (ready for the grody virus juice) and I picked the blister off. No juice. Thank goodness. Just a red spot. Ok, I can handle this. Ryan, on the other hand is totally squirming around "Mommy, let go." I let go. Ryan inspects his finger. Solemn faced, he looks at me. "Mommy, Jesus is not gonna be happy about this." Oops.

Where Jesus Lives

2009-10-07T09:19:00.000-07:00

Ryan recently contracted the virus that causes Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease. It is a common childhood illness that causes multiple canker sores to develop in the mouth, on the gums, tongue, soft pallet, and down the throat. It also causes blisters on the hands and feet, and in Ryan's case, up his legs, arms, and all over his buns. He had a fever of 103 for two and a half days. He barely ate anything for five days. It is by far the worst acute illness he has had in his three years of life. We are currently on day seven of isolation. Needless to say, much time has been spent in prayer on his behalf lately.
A couple of nights ago as I was putting him to bed, we were praying about "his bubbles" as he calls them. Having just returned from Women's Retreat the previous weekend and having enjoyed some powerful worship time, I decided to sing worship songs over him. "I will sing praise, I will sing praise, no weapon formed against me shall remain. I will rejoice, I will declare, God is my victory and He is here...." Ryan is curious about this. "God is here?" "Yes honey, He is. Honey, do you know where Jesus lives?" I ask. Ryan thinks for a second. "Hmm?" I go on. "He lives in our hearts. He lives in your heart, and He lives in my heart." I pat our chests. Ryan pats his chest. "Jesus lives in my heart," he repeats. I am loving this and thinking that I have imparted a profound wisdom to my little boy here. God is good and this is such a sweet God moment.
The following morning we are snuggling in the rocking chair like we do every morning. We are quiet, and cozy and wrapped in a blanket. Ryan looks up at me. "Mom, Jesus makes my bubbles feel better." "I am so glad, honey." Suddenly, Ryan turns and begins pulling at the blanket. He unwraps us and grabs a hold of my tank top. He pulls open my top and sticks his head down my shirt. "Jeeeesssuuuusss! Jeeesuuuuuuus! Are you in there? Jeesuuuuss!" Not exactly what I was trying to teach him last night, but o well.

Being a mom means...

2009-10-01T08:03:00.000-07:00

Giving up all the strawberries in your Red Robin strawberry lemonade.
Never going to the bathroom alone again.
Having to blow on someone else's food while you're dying to eat yours.
Researching and appreciating the finer points of stain removers.
Getting over your squeamishness of other people's bodily functions.
Learning the true meaning of the word repetition.
Being the recipient of the best good morning snuggles on the planet.
Never sleeping again.
Morphing craft time from knitting and beading to finger paint and sidewalk chalk.
Needing the phone number for poison control for the first time in your life.
Trying to explain why balloons don't stay up forever.
Never being able to have your plate of food belong to only you again.
Loving someone more than you ever thought possible.

I swear I don't make this stuff up

2009-09-11T19:12:00.000-07:00

We have already done the say prayers, take a sip of water, snuggle for a minute and kiss goodnight routine. We have left, and we are just sitting down on the couch for some of our own time when Ryan begins calling for me. I go in to see what's up, and he wants me to lay down with him. Not uncommon. So I walk over and kneel by his bed so we can snuggle some more. But I am tired. My back is hurting. So I pile up a couple of blankets and a pillow that are on the floor next to his bed and lay down. It only takes a second for him to lean his little body over the side and say, "I miss you down there, Mommy." He rolls off the bed, onto my chest, and then onto the floor next to me. I fluff up the blankets and pull his pillow down for him to lay on. It is dark. We are quiet. Just about the time I start thinking he is actually going to fall asleep right here on the floor, he pipes up, "Maybe I'm thinking.....tomorrow we can play princess. You can be the princess and I can be the prince." He is the cutest thing I have ever seen. "That's a great idea honey." We snuggle some more and after a little while, I scoop him up and put him back in his bed. Then I kiss my little prince goodnight, again.

Special

2009-09-10T09:11:00.000-07:00

My parents divorced when I was very young. Being the oldest, I sort of became the "other adult" in the family, as do many first born children of divorced parents. As such, I grew up very fast. All through my childhood, teen years and into my early twenties people constantly told me how mature I was. I was mature beyond my years. I was smart. I was advanced. I was special. I think secretly I reveled in my uniqueness. I had an advantage over my peers that made me stand out and excel in school and later in the workplace. I can't tell you how many job reviews I have had where my boss has praised me for my maturity, intelligence, poise, and wisdom.
Then I hit my thirties and that all changed. It is almost like my physical age caught up with my intellectual age. Like the two time lines, once vastly different, are tracking exactly parallel to each other now. In fact, in all honesty, I think my physical age is actually beginning to surpass my intellectual age. Crap. How did this happen? I am no longer viewed as mature beyond my years. I don't stand out from my peers. I am not praised anymore for my maturity, intelligence, poise, and wisdom. I have spent the last few years struggling to reconcile this new me with my memories of the old me. In truth, I still don't have all the answers. Here is what I do know. I know that being a mom is the most important thing I have ever done, and that "mommy brain" is a price I am willing to pay. I know that I am still special to the Lord even if I don't feel special to the world. And I know that no matter what phase of life I am in, I will always be special to two boys who are very special to me. And that is enough for me. And I am totally okay with it.

Addendum:
Ok, I can't stand it. If you read the above post and feel sorry for me, please don't. I did not write it so a bunch of people would respond with notes about how great I am. I am not fishing for compliments or an ego boost here. My ego is just fine. I am not complaining. I am not depressed. Trust me. If I was, I never would have written this post.
Here's why I wrote it. One, I wrote it because it was on my mind, and has been for a while. Two, I wrote it because I truly (finally) do feel okay about it. Three, and most importantly, I have heard this same kind of story from others and thought (and this is the point which proves how fine my ego really is) that my experience and thoughts about this might be of help to someone feeling the same way.
The point of the story is to be happy with who you are not because of what other people think of you or say about you, but because of who you are to the One who created you. Because of who you are to your children, your husband, your wife. These are the most important relationships, and for me, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. So please don't feel compelled to tell me how cool I am. Unless you just genuinely can't help yourself. And if that's the case, I'll just smile and say "thanks."

Explosion in the spare room

2009-09-09T16:51:00.000-07:00

I unpacked the spare room closet a couple of days ago. An explosion happened. I don't know how it happened. All I did was unpack three boxes labeled "crafts, beading, and sewing." Oh wait. Beading. That's what happened. I haven't done any beading since we moved. Since long before that actually. It was considered "non essential" and so it was one of the first things packed up. So there I was, surrounded by plastic tubs full of beads, beading tools, wire, string, bead books, and basically all things bead. To say I got distracted would be an understatement. Re-directed would be a better word. That's okay. I'm totally okay with it. Nan won't be here for a month so I have some time to clean it all up and get it ready for her and Noah. A month is plenty long enough. I think.

Rain coat and toothpaste

2009-09-05T11:35:00.001-07:00

Its raining today. Ryan is running around the house with his rain coat on. With the hood up. Its very important to have the hood up, apparently. Jason went into the bathroom to finish getting ready, and made the discovery that "running around" is not all Ryan has been doing in his rain coat. I have no idea. To us, it is a mess. To a three year old boy, it is a super fun Saturday morning game.

Ugh...laundry

2009-08-31T19:25:00.000-07:00

I am sitting in the hallway outside my laundry room surrounded by what can only be described as a sea of dirty clothes. I am sorting. And sorting. And sorting. I admit, it has been a few days since I have done laundry. Not many, just a few. A minute ago I started a load in the washer and I can hear it going through its different phases in the room behind me. As I continue to sort, and the washing machine continues through its cycle, I think to myself that the washer might beat me to the punch here and finish washing that load before I finish all the sorting. I call over to Jason, exasperated, "You know, there is something wrong in the world when the washing machine washes a whole load faster than I can sort all the rest of this laundry!" Without missing one single beat and totally nonchalantly he replies, "Is there something wrong with the washer or is there something wrong with you?" "Ha! You just earned yourself a date with my blog for that one!" And I go back to sorting.

Sentences you never thought you'd say

2009-08-28T10:10:00.001-07:00

Ryan came in from the back yard and told me that he peed on the dog. Do I even want to ask why? "Honey, don't pee on the dog. He doesn't pee on you," I explain. This is all the motherly wisdom I can summon this early in the morning.

Spitting

2009-08-27T17:27:00.000-07:00

Recently Ryan has discovered how to do zerbert things on various parts of my body. My arms, my legs, my face. This leaves me covered in zerbert slime. Lovely. Shortly after the "zerbert on body parts" realization, came the "zerbert in the air" realization. This leaves the air, the couch, the floor, and anything else in its path, sprayed in zerbert slime. Again, lovely. Let's just say the spraying is not one of my favorite things. There is a lot of "Ryan! Do not spit! It's gross!" going on in my house. The difficult part is not laughing with him, because when he gives you a zerbert his laugh is absolutely awesome! I must hear more of that laugh. I love it. Apparently, I love it enough to be constantly wiping slime off my arms! When the spit sprays, however, the love ends. I just can't deal with it. It's so grody. Enter this morning. I am sitting in the rocking chair drinking my coffee. Ryan walks over, climbs up, and snuggles in. Just as I am thinking how sweet a moment it is, he suddenly sneezes a huge sneeze and sprays sneeze spit all over my lap. Before I can say anything, he looks up at me all innocent. "It's okay, Mommy. That was just a bless you spit." He is so pleased with himself for explaining this to me. He snuggles back in and I think the moment is still sweet, even if I am covered in spit.

Sleeping in the tent

2009-08-24T07:47:00.000-07:00

Last night we decided to put up the tent that Ryan's Grandpa Apple and Grandma Mo got him for his birthday. We were watching two extra kids for the evening and so we had quite the full house. We played outside in the back yard. We played in the tent. We watched movies. We had dinner. We had snacks. We screamed, we yelled, we giggled. When it was all said and done, Jason and I were exhausted. But in a good way.
Ryan was totally into the idea of "camping out" in the tent. So, we hauled it down the hall and into his bedroom. Jason lined up blankets on the floor and got his pillows in there, just so. Ryan crawled in and I got him under the covers. I crawled in next to him and we did our regular night time snuggles and kisses. We said prayers. After prayers Ryan said, as he sometimes does, "Can Daddy lay down me?" I said, "Sure Honey, Daddy can lay down with you." So Jason and I made the switch and I went off to get ready for bed. A little while later after the house was shut down, the lights were off, the dog was in bed, and I was ready to head that way myself I heard the boys talking quietly as I walked by Ryan's bedroom door. I decided to give them a bit more time and so I headed into the office to get on the computer. As often happens, I lost track of time on the computer. Email, Facebook, random news stories I don't actually care about. Suddenly a strange sound interrupted my sleepy, internet induced haze. At first I couldn't quite place it. Then it hit me. Snoring. I hadn't even heard Jason go to bed. I turned off the computer and headed to the bedroom. Jason wasn't there. He wasn't in the bathroom either. I crept down the hallway and peeked into Ryan's room. There they were, fast asleep. In the tent. Jason snoring away and Ryan snuggled up to him, both of them out like a light. I couldn't bear to wake Jason, so I crept back into my room, crawled in bed, and fell asleep to the sound of my sleeping campers down the hall.

Day two with no "b" (pacifier)

2009-08-23T08:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning we made a bold move. While Jason held them, Ryan used the big scissors to cut the rubber part off of his b's. We had him do it (don't freak out, he is not allowed to touch the big scissors normally) because we wanted him to take ownership of it. Not to mention, we didn't want to invite the "You cut my b!!!" cries we feared would come if we did the deed. We told him that only babies use b's and since he is such a big boy, he doesn't need one anymore. He likes being a big boy and this logic worked well. Right up until we got in the car. A familiar "where's my b?" situation. The following conversation ensued.
Ryan "Mommy, where's my b?"
Me "Remember honey? You cut your b's off. We don't have anymore b's."
Ryan "Maybe we can go to Walmart?"
Me "Why do you want to go to Walmart, honey?"
Ryan "Maybe we can go to Walmart and get a new b? Would that be great Mommy?"
He is so cute I don't know what to say. I tell him again how b's are for little babies, and how he is a big boy and doesn't need a b, and as my heart melts, I think about how hard it is for mommies to give up the b's too.

My Mother's Day present

2009-08-20T08:13:00.000-07:00

Last Mother's Day Jason got me an outdoor fire pit. I hadn't asked for one so it was a total surprise. Due to the chaotic nature of late spring and early summer, the fire pit remained packed away in its box all these months. We moved and never once used it in Lacey. So this last weekend while our parents were visiting, there it was in the garage, beckoning me to set it free! Marshmallows were calling to me. Jason and his dad got some wood and marshmallows from the store. They unpacked the fire pit and within minutes we had a campfire in the back yard. I spread out a blanket and we put chairs in a circle. Some us played musical chairs as the "smoke follows beauty" rule was in full effect. We roasted marshmallows on old wire hangers. Revell make a smore with a piece of dark chocolate I found in the pantry and some of Ryans graham crackers. We, and by "we" I mean "I", ate marshmallows until we couldn't eat marshmallows anymore. We marinated ourselves in campfire smoke. Finally, we trickled one by one into the house as the night got darker and the stars got brighter. We put Ryan to bed. When it was all said and done, I went out one last time. I laid down on the blanket and looked up at the stars. With Sam lying next to me keeping me warm, I finally reconciled my twenty-something camping self with my thirty-something, non-camping self. Who needs to camp when you can have a campfire in your backyard? Not me. And I'm totally okay with that.
We did the whole thing again the next night, except with actual marshmallow roasting forks we got at the store. It is an awesome Mother's Day present. Thanks honey!

I'm a princess...apparently

2009-08-20T07:53:00.000-07:00

The other day it was so hot, I didn't know what to wear. If you know me, you know that I am not generally a dress up kind of girl. Not that I have anything against it, I am just more of a wear what's most comfortable type. As such, I mostly wear jeans, capris, yoga pants, khaki type pants etc. My wardrobe contains just a few skirts and dresses. Enter the day it was 109 degrees. That kind of heat is like walking into a heating blanket the minute you step out of your house. I had an errand that I had to run, despite the sweltering thick of the early evening. I was hot and I was irritated that I couldn't find anything comfortable. I finally settled on a totally out of the ordinary choice. I came out into the living room wearing a tank top (gold standard for me in the summer) and a long, airy, flowing skirt. I was feeling uneasy since this particular type of skirt I know is not the best choice for my body type. Circle skirt plus my hips equals giant every day of the week. Nevertheless, I was so hot, I didn't care. Neither did Ryan, apparently. He came running up to me, smiling, and started twirling around flinging my skirt up at the edges. "Mommy!" he exclaimed. "You're a princess!" My heart melted. I should wear more skirts.

Guilt is a funny thing

2009-08-13T16:43:00.001-07:00

So I am sitting at my computer surfing around, checking my email, looking at Facebook. It's 4 in the afternoon. I haven't showered or brushed my teeth. I am still in my pajamas. So is Ryan. I have been doing laundry, but my goal of cleaning both bathrooms is still that, just a goal. And I am feeling guilty. Guilty that the house is a mess. Guilty that I am a mess. I see a friend of mine from Olympia has responded to a post of mine on Facebook. In her post she suggests to me that I "friend her sister" and that I should check out the blog that the two of them do together, http://domesticatesophisticate.blogspot.com. So I mosey on over and start reading their blog. It's all about how you can still be cute and stylish and be a stay at home mom. There's even a little FAQ on the left about how not to be frumpy. Remember, I am reading this IN MY PAJAMAS! At 4 in the AFTERNOON!!! I feel like a schmuck. The author talks about how getting dressed and putting on make up and doing her hair is a priority for her. She does it for herself, for her husband, for her son. She cares for them and she cares for herself for them. I AM IN MY PAJAMAS. Immediately I sprint to the shower. I brush my teeth. I put on non pajama-y clothes. I want to go shopping. I want to wear lipstick and earrings. My son comes in and does a zerbert/fart thing on my arm. Okay, well, I may not be cute and stylish, and I may have zerbert slime all over my arm, but at least I am clean.

Warning...this is a gross one

2009-08-09T07:13:00.000-07:00

We came home last night from a great family outing. We went into downtown Portland to OMSI. We saw an IMAX movie called "Bugs" which was on that gigantic screen and pretty cool. We went upstairs to the kids play area and played in the sand pit. We got all wet playing in the water exhibit. We looked at frogs, spiders, rats, stick bugs, and turtles. We stopped on the way home at Flying Pie Pizzeria and had dinner together. It was a great day.
Then we got home. To our disgust we discovered that Sam, who had been in his kennel for the few hours we were gone, had an "accident." There is no way to describe the smell in the house. Poor Sam, covered in poop, was laying in his kennel looking pathetic. There was poop all over the kennel. There was poop all over the carpet. It was disgusting.
Immediately we put Ryan in his room with a Curious George show to watch on the little dvd player, put Sam outside, took the kennel outside, and turned on the hose. While Jason hosed down the kennel and scrubbed it out, I went to work on the carpet with the steam cleaner. We opened all the windows and turned on the fans. Jason gave Sam a bath. By ten o'clock it was all cleaned up and the smell was fading. We emptied a bottle of Febreze in the house and left the windows open all night.
Thankfully, this morning, other than the kennel being in a different spot, you'd never know what we were doing late last night.

Mixed Metaphors

2009-08-01T13:13:00.001-07:00

In an attempt to record for posterity my families funny tendency for mixing metaphors, I will blog them. Here goes.
Explaining to my friend Kelly that a circumstance is not new to me I say, "This is not the first time I've been around this wagon..."
Here are a couple from my Dad, "We were really taking it in the bath." Decipher: We were taking it in the shorts.... or We were taking a bath...

"There's a few ways to play that wrinkle." Decipher: I have no idea..... but somehow he made sense.
In a discussion with Jason I say, "Well, let's not hatch the chickens before they lay..." Once again, not sure what exactly I meant to say here, but it made sense at the time.
And of course there's the classic "You're barking up a dead horse." But, I think my Dad made that one up on purpose just to be silly. Stay tuned. The more tired we are the funnier they get.

I'm a total homebody

2009-07-31T18:45:00.000-07:00

A quick update. We are working feverishly to get the house in order, the fence up, the sprinkler system all repaired and running smoothly...all in 100 plus heat. Now granted, we have a lot going on. But still, it turns out, I am a total homebody. Here we are, back home, surrounded by a ton of friends, and what am I doing? Staying home. Working on the house. Cleaning. Blah, blah, blah. If it weren't for Jason making plans for us, we'd probably stay home every night and look at each other. (Ok, well, maybe not...)
So, I went out of my comfort zone today and invited some friends over. And they are here now. Gonna go be social. Cool.

Here is an excerpt from an article on the web about the Emmy nominations

2009-07-17T09:23:00.000-07:00

" "The Sarah Silverman Program," and edgy HBO series "Big Love," about polygamous families, and AMC's "Breaking Bad," about a meth-making schoolteacher, broke into the best drama series ranks.

The dividing line falls neatly between the adventurous shows fielded by niche cable networks and the largely mainstream, predictable offerings from broadcasters.

"It couldn't be on any broadcast network," said "Breaking Bad" star Bryan Cranston, a best-actor nominee. "Ten, 15 years ago you'd say that was a downfall. Now it's one of the positive points of television. If you can be a show that's on cable instead of broadcast, more than likely, you have a much greater chance of producing quality television." "

I'm sorry. Since when does a polygamous family and a meth-making school teacher qualify as "quality television"?
Apparently programs need to be "edgy" and "adventurous" to be considered quality television. Apparently the definition of "edgy" and "adventurous" is "sinful" and "illegal". If you're not, you're mainstream and predictable. How boring.

Now, admittedly, I haven't seen any of these shows since we don't have those channels. I am only commenting on the concept that if it is inappropriate for broadcast tv, it is more likely to be a lower quality show. I bet House, Lost, 30 Rock, and The Office would disagree as well.

Almost there

2009-07-03T07:55:00.000-07:00

This morning marks change. As if we haven't had enough of that in the last couple of months. Jason gets home from Oregon today, for good. He has next week off for the big move. I can't believe we're moving AGAIN. I mean, I didn't think this house was necessarily long term by any means. I just imagined we'd be moving North or West instead of South. And although I am really excited to be going "home," I am realizing these last couple of days that I will be sad to leave Washington. We've been here exactly one year, eight months, and twenty one days (thank you Mo and the date calculator web site.) Not much time by any stretch of the imagination. Barely enough time to unpack the garage all the way!
In the short time we lived in Washington we really did do a lot of things. First and foremost, we strengthened and deepened our relationship with our parents. Ryan has gotten to know his grandparents very well and has built relationship with them in ways he wouldn't have had we not come here.
Second, since we had very few friends here, Jason and I really learned to rely on each other in a new and different way. We became better friends. In marriage, especially with kids, it is so easy to get distracted by the day to day, the bills, the kids, the house, jobs, and all the little details of raising a family. Sometimes you forget to have fun with each other. This last year and a half we had so much fun as a couple and as a family. Whether it was Point Defiance Zoo, NW Trek, the beach at Tolmie State Park, the little park by our house, Hand's On Children's Museum, Seattle Center, or just in our back yard we learned how to play again and that has been awesome.
Another bonus of moving was me getting out of my sheltered shell. I had never lived anywhere other than in Clackamas County. Ok, Gladstone, Canby, Milwaukie, sure they're different cities, but really, not too different. Moving to Washington forced me out of my comfort zone and opened my eyes to new places, new people, and somewhat a new side of myself. I never knew I was a person who could not only experience all that "newness,", but a person who could actually enjoyed it as well.
Financially the move has been great for us. The Lord got us out of the Canby house just as the market was crashing, and got us into this house and Jason into his job at Dex in just the right market for him to shine and excel the way he has. The experience and sucess he had in Olympia made a huge impact on him getting the job in the Portland market. We are both very excited to see what the Lord has in store for us in this area.
As for me, I have been clinging to two truths for the last several months. The first is,

Hebrews 10:23
²³ Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep his promise.

And the second is,

Isaiah 54:11:12

¹¹ “O storm-battered city,
troubled and desolate!
I will rebuild you with precious jewels
and make your foundations from lapis lazuli.

¹² I will make your towers of sparkling rubies,
your gates of shining gems,
and your walls of precious stones.

Although I have sometimes felt like a storm battered city with all the change and chaos that have been the last two years, I trust in the Lord and I know He is faithful to keep His promises. He is rebuilding us with precious jewels and making our foundations from lapis lazuli. We are almost there...

Sometimes you really should listen to your kids

2009-07-02T08:18:00.000-07:00

This morning as I am reading the news online, Ryan walks into the bedroom and has taken his jammy pants off. I ask him why he took his pants off, but he is too into his cars to answer. So I reach over and do the "look for poop" move by pulling his diaper back and peeking into his buns to check. No sign of poop, so I say, "Lets take off your pee pee diaper, okay?" He says, "No, Mommy!" Of course, I don't listen. He even pulls away from me a little bit, but does that sway me? No. I pull the sticky tabs off each side and fling the pee pee diaper from his little body and say in triumph, "That feels better, huh?" He responds, "Mommy! You dropped my poop on the floor!" And lo and behold, there on my bedroom carpet is a giant ball of poop. "Mommy you're so silly!" Man, I should have listened to him!

These days you gotta be smarter than your smartphone

2009-06-29T10:03:00.000-07:00

And apparently I am not. So we got new phones. The first set was the new Blackberry Pearl Flip. We didn't like the keyboard so we decided to go for the whole shebang and get the Blackberry Curve. At first we liked them. They have a full qwerty keyboard with ONE letter per key. They are Internet capable, have a nice camera, good call quality etc. However, after a couple days playing around with them we noticed a couple things we weren't so hot about. First, the battery life sucks. We had to plug them in every night! I guess if you're used to this it's no big deal, but we were used to plugging in our phones every few days, and to have the battery start to drain after a single call was disappointing. Next, and here's the biggie, we could barely figure out how to make a phone call, let alone texting and taking photos. Don't even get me started on trying to figure out how to change the ring tone. These phones are like a little computer you have never heard of before. They are so complicated, they actually offer a CLASS so you can learn how to use them. I have not felt this stupid in a VERY long time. I consider myself a relatively intelligent person, not a genius, but certainly able to keep up with most. I found myself saying, "Remember when you could just pick up the phone and call someone by dialing numbers? Remember when texting just involved typing?" Now I am scrolling, highlighting, selecting, answering little prompt questions....getting lost in the layer after layer of menus trying to find the stupid "profile" button so I can turn the darn thing off vibrate...but I digress.
So, after the last three days of blundering around and feeling like a total idiot, I give up. I don't need Internet access from my phone. I don't need yet another way to check my email. I don't "tweet." I don't want fifty different ways to contact every person I know. I just want to make a call now and then. So, once again, I am off to the post office to send the smart phones back in return for...a dumber phone? Maybe. Or at least one that doesn't have me wishing for the days of rotary dials and cords again.

Good Job Honey!

2009-06-24T11:04:00.000-07:00

Ryan: "Mom, can you put my pants on?"
Me: "Why are your pants off honey?"
Nothing.
Me: "Honey, did you go potty?"
Ryan: "Yes!" Big smile on his face.
Me: "Good job honey. Where did you potty?" Knowing full well I did not hear him in the bathroom.
Ryan: "Outside!" Even bigger smile.
Me: "On the deck outside or in the grass?" Please be on the grass...please be on the grass....
Ryan: "On the grass."
Me: "Good Job Honey!" Sweet. Now I don't have to go clean the deck.

To pack, or not to pack. That is the question...

2009-06-24T08:28:00.000-07:00

Man, another day closer to the big move back to Canby and I cannot seem to get together enough motivation to vacuum, let alone pack another box. I am at that point where every room is half done so it looks like I have made quite a bit of progress, however, the "miscellaneous" stuff is still hanging around and in reality would take FOREVER if I left it to the last minute. So maybe I will just play around on the blog. I am working for posterity. I think this is what my dad calls "creative avoidance." O well. At least I am being creative at something.

Question of the day

2009-06-23T10:52:00.000-07:00

Mommy, "Honey, did you pee down the heater vent?"
Ryan, "Yes!"

Great. At least we're moving.

Went to my parents house last weekend

2009-06-23T10:40:00.000-07:00

Ahhhh! The rest, the food, the movie on the big screen downstairs, the sleeping in, and oh yeah, the photo lesson. Although I technically went there for the photo lesson, the other stuff was so great I think I might have to make a regular retreat out of it. (like how I invite myself Dad n' Mo?)

It was a great weekend for rest and very productive too. I went to Ana Cross Stitch who is carrying my stitch markers, met the ladies there and updated my inventory. Dad gave me the short and sweet for taking great photos of my product. Mo gave me a tripod. We ordered a light box to make a little table top photo studio. I am so official. I can't wait for it to get here.

All the while Jason, husband extraordinaire, was home taking care of Ryan and Sam. I think my favorite line of the weekend came from Jason as I was driving home. It went something like this:

"So you're on your way home?"

"Yeah"

"Ya know how I always say I haven't done anything around the house, but I really have and I surprise you?"

"Yeah...."

"Well, just to warn you. This time I REALLY haven't done anything!"

Hee hee. I love it when he gets a taste of my daily life. I become SO COOL in his eyes!

Originally posted on webs.com on January 28, 2009

You know it was bound to happen eventually

2009-06-23T10:39:00.000-07:00

While I am cooking dinner tonight I look over at Ryan standing in the kitchen next to Sam's water dish. (can you already see where this is going?) He is enthusiastically and happily swishing water around in his mouth. Not seeing his sippy cup anywhere, I ask him, "Honey, did you drink out of Sam's water bowl?" And, of course, his reply, a vigorous head nod, still swishing. And as fast as I was in turning to get a towel and lean over for him to spit out the water, he swallowed and smiled at me. What do you do? Luckily for me I am pretty much over the "germaphobia" I suffered from in college, and so I just kept cooking dinner. Probably won't be the last time...

Originally posted on webs.com on January 21, 2009

Funny Friday

2009-06-23T10:36:00.000-07:00

Right now all three of us are wearing Santa hats because Ryan wants us to. Also, the pointy end with the ball on the end HAS to be facing back, apparantly. He is so funny. This is also an indictment of me since it is clearly not Christmas time anymore and all my decorations are still piled in the front room waiting for inspiration to be put away.

Another funny thing for today, well starting yesterday actually. I can't remember what I said, but Ryan thought it was funny and he said, "Thank you funny Mommy." And he has been saying it ever since. All day today when I get something for him, hand him something, or do something he wanted he says, "Thank you funny Mommy." Also thrown in there a couple times were, "thank you my funny."

He just cracks me up. I wonder how long this will last? As all cute things they do, I am sure it will pass soon and except for this blog, be forgotten. Another Mommy Bombeck for posterity.

Originally posted on webs.com on January 16, 2009

Kids take things literally

2009-06-23T10:35:00.000-07:00

On Saturday I went over to a girlfriends house to do one of my favorite things...organize! We spent the day laughing, working, cleaning and in general bringing order to chaos. I loved it. She even had a label maker! If only we'd had color coded rubbermaid tubs...

At lunch time we were eating burgers that her sweet husband got for us and my friend was reminding her kiddos to gather up their library books for return. Her youngest explained that he couldn't find his book. My friend said that if he didn't find the book they would have to pay for the book and so he'd better look harder. I think someone at the table maybe mentioned that you get in trouble if you don't return library books. Then my moment to shine...I chime in, "Yeah and they send the LBI's after you, the library bureau of investigators, and if you don't hand over the book, they send you to library jail." (Ok, so I'm an idiot, I know! But I thought it was funny) Her son didn't respond much and the conversation drifted to other things.

Later on in the afternoon as we were finishing up, he comes into the bedroom with a very concerned look on his face. "What's up?" my friend asks. Her son barely gets out "I can't find it Mom! I've looked everywhere! I DON'T WANT TO GO TO JAIL!!!" And bursts into tears!

Needless to say, I felt like a total schmuck. I must remember this for later on. Kids take things so literally!

Originally posted on webs.com on January 11, 2009

If you can't laugh at yourself...Or Chicken Adobo

2009-06-23T10:32:00.000-07:00

So tonight I am all proud of myself because I am making a new recipe. (Trying desperately to get in the groove of cooking at least 4 nights a week) I am making Chicken Adobo, which I have never heard of and have never eaten. It's basically chicken cooked in a sauce of garlic, soy sauce, apple cider vinegar, a bay leaf and some pepper. I am super smug as Jason walks in the door and says, "Wow that smells good. What is it?" I reply casually like I've cooked it a thousand times and it's old hat, "Chicken Adobo." He says, "Huh, I didn't know you knew any Philipino recipes. An old Philipino friend of mine used to make that all the time. Cool." Stopped short in my basting I think to myself "That's weird," because this whole time I was thinking this was a mexican dish. Then it hits me.

Originally posted on webs.com on January 9, 2009

My first blog. Ever

2009-06-23T10:29:00.000-07:00

Mo says I have a knack for telling funny family stories and that I should write them down. She calls me "Mommy Bombeck" like Erma Bombeck (sp?). Since I don't know Erma or her writing I just trust Mo when she tells me that she was super funny.

So when I found this website and saw that I could post pictures and blog stuff I thought this might be a good way to get down my Mommy Bombeck stories. Of course I don't have any off the top of my head now. Probably because my head is full of my bed calling me for a nap, so maybe another time. It is enough to say for now that, soon, the good, the bad, and the ugly will be typed for all to read. Maybe it will be theraputic. Maybe it will bore people. I don't care. I just like doing something other than dishes, laundry and diapers for a few minutes of my day.

Originally posted on webs.com on January 9, 2009