I'm So Happy I'm Drooling!

This single sentence from Adam pretty much sums up our trip to the lake. It came about as the four of us we're sitting on the floor for a wild game of Go Fish! when Jamie decided to suddenly roll around on top of all the cards shouting "Applesauce! Applesauce!" for no apparent reason until we were all laughing uncontrollably, at least one of us to the point of drooling. And this was before we broke out the game of Pass The Pigs. You ain't seen nothin' till someone hits a double leaning jowler!

And so it went for the four days we were at the lake. Silliness, laughing, swimming, fishing, sugar cereal and no real schedule. Well, that's not exactly true. We kept Jamie on her naps and both the kids were in bed by 8:00pm just like at home which I think was the real key to our successful vacation. 'Cause I don't care how many Mike's Hard Lemonade's are available, no one has fun with kids that melt into a weepy pile of Ritz snack crackers and snot at the mention of the word, "No".

One of the few things that we wanted to make sure and do while we were there was take the Wallowa Lake Tram up to the top of Mt. Howard. Damonn was not looking forward to this. It is a 15-minute ride rising 3700ft to a summit of 8200ft and he is not a big fan of heights. But he carried on like a trooper only noticeably gasping near the end of the ride as we crossed a ravine and the distance to the ground became much more staggering. There is actually a restaurant at the top but we only had time for a quick walk around the summit to feed the squirrels and do some more gasping at the in-cred-i-ble views. They say you can see Oregon, Washington and Idaho from up there, but it all looks the same from 8000ft. I really could have stayed up there all day just staring into the valley and watching the hawks glide on the air currents. It felt like standing at the top of the world being free from everything. . . . which was enhanced further by the fact that I exerted no physical energy getting there. But alas, some of the friends that shared the cabin with us were getting light headed from the altitude and the tram was about to make the last trip of the day so we climbed back into the little metal car and descended back down to the valley and the safety of solid ground.

We spent the rest of our time fishing on the lake, riding bumper boats, battling for air hockey bragging rights, playing Frisbee and eating. Not even the rain on the third day could hinder our spirits. (We are Oregonians, after all) We just pulled out the craft kits we brought along for just such an occasion and chowed on microwave smores. The only drawback to such a happy, relaxing vacation is the pressure to live up to it next year! Oh, to have such a worry.

One Man's Old Is Another Man's Vintage. . .

Adam: Is that a Volkswagen Bus in front us of, Momma?

Me: No, that's just a regular van.

Adam: (as we get closer) Oh yeah, 'cause a Volkswagen Bus always has those old curtains in the windows.

Oh, How I Missed the Internet. . .

We're back, exhausted but smiling. I planned to Twitter throughout the trip but there was no AT&T wireless coverage so I was stuck without the internet or a phone. How did I make it without checking the CNN Politcal Ticker?? Gasp! We had a great time but now comes the unpacking and the mountain of laundry. Details of the trip to come in the next few days. . . . .

See Ya Later Alligator. . . .

We're leaving for vacation . . . . . finally. the bags are packed, the kids are loaded (almost) and after one last stop for coffee we're headed to Wallowa Lake in Eastern Oregon. Never been there but I've heard it's beautiful. Talk to ya next week!

Another Person I'd Like To Kick in the Teeth

On the phone today with our pediatrician's office:

Me: I’m checking back because I called a couple of days ago to see if my son needed anymore shots before he starts Kindergarten this year and I haven’t heard back from anyone.

Woman: Mmmm. . . Let me check. Nope, he’s all up to date.

Me: Really? I thought at his check-up last year they said he would need two more shots before he starts school this year.

Woman: Yes, he’ll need two more at his 5-year check-up.

Me: So he does need two more shots before he starts school?

Woman: Yes. He will get them at his 5-year check up.

Me: Yes, but his birthday and his check-up aren’t until a week after school starts so can we come in early just to get the shots?

Woman: No, we can’t give them until he’s five.

Me: He’s five in like, two weeks.

Woman: We can’t give them to him until he’s five.

Me: But the school district requires that he have them before he starts so what should I do?

Woman: (Silence)

Me: You guys won’t give me the shots and the school won’t let him start without them so WHAT DO YOU SUGGEST I DO?

Woman: I’ll send the question back to the nurse, but I really don’t know how to help you.

I so don't need this shit right now.

Life. . . On Repeat

Where did the lazy days of summer that I was just posting about float off to? I don't know, but the month of August revved it's engine and has taken off without me. I was going to write a little something about the current chaotic stress I'm feeling right now, but then remembered I already did. . . . . two years ago. Click HERE to read the original post and feel free to replace any of the "things to do" in that post with one of these:

Dental Visits. Vaccinations. School Supplies. Sprained Toes. Birthday Gifts. Vacation Plans. Computer Crashes. Insurance Benefits. Conference Calls. Shoe Shopping. Vet Bills.

Same bullshit, different day. Actually, same chaos, different bullshit.

Have a good weekend everyone!

Comments Please

It has been brought to my attention by some readers of this site that they, and perhaps others, are not commenting as much as they'd like because they don't have a Blogger/Google account with which to log in. In the case that this might be true, I wanted to make sure that everyone is aware that they do not need an account to leave a comment.

After clicking on the word Comments at the end of any post, simply choose either the button for Name/URL and type in any name or web address you like, or choose Anonymous to remain completely incognito.

Because even though I may live to regret my request for more comments (not all comments will be nice comments), I would love to get your feedback on the topics of this site. So please, use your voice, man!

The Emerson Address

The Rick Emerson Radio Program
(as mentioned in this Things I Love post)

6/6/6 brought you Horns Across the Hawthorne.

7/7/7 brought you Vanilla Ice, live on stage.

And now, 8/8/8 brings you the greatest event in the history of human evolution… (so says their website)

The Emerson Address.

On Friday, August 8th, 2008, at 2pm, we need every radio, every speaker, and every webstream in existence to be tuned to AM 970, and The Rick Emerson Show will broadcast a live, specially-prepared message to the entire city of Portland…and beyond.No matter where you are…no matter what it takes…at 2pm on Friday, August 8th, find every single radio you can…turn them up, and help us beam our message to every single person in the state…and the world.

One day…one message…and every radio on Earth.The Emerson Address…happening at 2pm on 8/8/8.

Be ready to listen!

I'm Blushing. . . .

Someone referenced my Valentine's Day post at BlogHer.com. It's like when that cute boy says hello to you in the hall. . . . . then reads a poem from your diary in front of everyone.

See the article HERE.

Have You Ever Seen Cuter Metatarsals?

Last night we found ourselves traveling down one of those unexpected detours of life. One minute the kids are playing joyfully in the water feature at the park and the next minute another mom is asking if the crying blonde girl is mine. Yes - the fact that she was not actually in my line of sight when the accident occured is something I would be asked to admit several times over the next few hours to every doctor, every nurse and someone with the odd title of "registrar". Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but they all seemed to be asking for the same details over and over. What time did this happen? What was she doing when this happened? Where were you when it happened? Have you ever felt like abusing your child before today? Okay, the last one wasn't actually asked, but I knew what they were getting at. I mean, I understand why they need to ask these questions and I love that there is a saftey net for children in trouble, but it doesn't help me to not imagine all of them meeting in the break room later to compare notes on my story. 3:30? She told me 3:00. Call the authorities!

Actually the ER staff was great. They were very gentle and pleasant with Jamie and didn't even seem to mind her absolute hysterics during the X-ray procedure. Of course the technician will be telling friends and family the story of the little blonde two-year old who, in the middle of her mother tying to coax (wrestle) her onto the bed for X-rays, pulled free, looked her mother straight in the eye and proceeded to slap the very person who brought her into this world across the face. Yep, that's one for the dinner parties.

Other than this blatant act of maternal humiliation, Jamie was in surprisingly good spirits - until you tried to get her to stand. At which point she would pull up her foot and start calling for help in the most heart-breaking manner. Something along the lines of a wounded lamb with a pink bow and curls. But after three hours of singing nursery rhymes, too much poking and prodding from the doctor and the results of the X-rays, she was diagnosed with a sprain rather than any broken bones. So they wrapped her up in an ace bandage, gave her a couple stickers and sent us on our way with the adorable x-ray you see above. Today, Jamie still won't stand, but is at home with her doting father who is more than happy to wait on her hand and - foot.

Oh, and for those of you that noticed the latest twitter. . . . The triage nursed didn't want to send us back out into the waiting room to wait for a room so she asked if we needed to have a TV in our room. I said no so she escorted us to the end of the hall, into a small room and then ever so casually said, "I'll just prop this door open with a chair so it doesn't lock you inside." I looked around and noticed that the blinds for the window were on the outside and all the equipment in the room had the ability to be locked behind a metal gate. "You're putting us in the psych ward?" "It's a safe room", she clarified. "A psych room", I countered. "No, a SAFE room", she said again with a smile, arranging the chair in the door. How is it she knows us so well?

Serendipity. . .

Sometimes I find myself trying so hard to create family moments that the event becomes something no one really even wants to participate in. Dr. Seuss birthday parties, “special” picnics in the park and family art projects come to mind. Other times I find myself smack dab in the middle of an incredible family connection without the least bit of forethought. The energy so vibrant you’d almost expect to get a static shock from it.

And so it was last night. The kids were fresh from baths and snuggling into our bed for a little TV. I slipped Curios George, a movie we had just recently found again while cleaning out a closet, into the DVD player and just as I was about to hit play to start the actual movie, Adam yelled, “Stop! I want to hear all of this song.” I was surprised because as far I knew he had never heard this song before, but he was adamant about listening to it. Just then Damonn walked in the room and said, “Hey I remember this song.” And before I knew it our whole family was singing and dancing to the Curious George theme song, Jack Johnson’s, Upside Down.

I want to turn the whole thing upside down
I'll find the things they say just can't be found
I'll share this love I find with everyone
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's songs
I don't want this feeling to go away

As I watched my family dancing, each one a different dance, time slowed and I could feel the lyrics, the music and the moment being etched into my memory. Jamie’s golden curls bouncing in every direction around her head as she jumped and screeched in sheer delight. Adam fumbling to learn the words of a song he instantly loved draped in the hooded towel he’s had since birth. Damonn awkwardly moving his body to the offbeat of the music, dancing the way only he does. These are the moments you look forward to when you dream of having children, when you dream of making a family. And slowly, for some of us very slowly, we learn they can’t be created or planned. They will simply happen and you only have to be ready to live them.

Keeping Me Between The Lines. . . .

A recent email exchange between me and Damonn:

Me: I think I'd like to get a couple of chickens to keep in our backyard.

Damonn: I feel like my life is full at this point without adding chickens to our backyard. Perhaps you should concentrate on Snowflake and Linus (our two bettas). Particularly since just last night the cleaning of two fish bowls was more responsiblity than you wanted to handle.

Things I Love. . .

It took me several tries to write this post. Not because I couldn’t find the words to describe these heavenly morsels but because every time I started to think about them I would go into some kind of salivary daydream broken only by the drool dripping onto my hands still poised over my keyboard in mid-sentence. This trance is similar to what happens when I open a bag of these crispy devils. I become lost in their savory goodness and the next thing I know my hand is hitting the bottom of the empty bag, fingers digging furiously for those tiny, tiny crumbs way down in the corners. Thank god my head won’t fit in the bag. My only reprieve in this bender of carbs and grease is when I stop to gulp a refreshing beverage that is necessary to curb the onslaught of sodium attacking my tongue. In fact that is my word of advice to you upon trying this bewitching blend flavors: make sure that you do NOT have any potable liquid near you. Don’t even sit near the fish tank. It is your only salvation against following the same path of shame and gluttony that has befallen me. And if you don't believe me. . . take it from the bag itself. . . . .

WHEN MUSTARD MET HONEY
Dijon mustard is sophisticated and a bit snooty. Honey is sweet and wild. Sparks fly when they meet… it’s love at first sight. Honey mellows and softens mustard’s sharp edge. Yes, we know, we’re talking about potato chips here. But take a bite of these sweet, savory lovelies and you just might get obsessed. We are.

BUY THEM NOW AT MOST GROCERIES STORES!

Sunny Days Are Here Again. . . .

I love this picture. It depicts what summer should be. Barefeet and watermelon, skinned knees and sprinklers in your underwear. And it reminds me of what summer has felt like for our family this year as well. We've seen parades and been in parades, had picnics in parks and in our own backyard. We've eaten ice cream, elephant ears and fruit kabobs. We've run through sprinkers (all four of us, but only two in our underwear) and wrestled in the grass until we laughed ourselves silly. We've gathered friends for BBQ's and family for reunions and welcomed more babies than I ever thought possible. But even with this plethora of activities, this has somehow been one of our most relaxed summers in years. Maybe beause the kids are getting older? Maybe because we aren't scheduled to the hilt? Maybe it's just my outlook on life at the moment. But whatever it is, it has allowed even the busy days of summer to stay pleasant, enjoyable and most of all, fun. And the best part? It's only half over.

Circles In My Head

You know when you have so many things to do that you don't know where to start and you just kinda keep turning in circles looking for the end, or is it the beginning, of the ridiculously unending daisy-chain of a to-do list that lays before you? This has been both figuratively and literally true for the last two weeks. Some busy good, some busy bad, some just busy. And I have several things I want to write about, but I'm just not finding the time. So bear with me because I really want to tell you about our fabulous 4th of July. And Adam's 5-month quest for Kindergarten admittance. And all of Jamie's intriguing, hilarious and futilely frustrating new personality quirks. I really do. And I will. So if I can just get that load of laundry started before the kids go to bed then I can . . . . . . and then. . . . and then. . . . .

In the meantime, check out our new family photo in the upper right corner. No one's crying, everyone has a shirt on and you can't even see the schmutz on Jamie's face.

A Handsome Young Gent. . . .

Announcing the grand entrance of . . . . .

Blake Hamilton

July 11, 3:13pm

7lbs, 11oz.

The first son of our good friends Joel and Adele, this fine young lad came bounding into the world in just seven minutes on July 11th (7/11), weighing 7lbs, 11oz. Keep this kid away from the craps table!

Baby Blake is the sixth (sorry, not the seventh) and final delivery in our family/friends baby bonanza. And after months of waiting, he also makes Lily a very lucky (and proud) big sister! All our congrats on your beautiful boy.

Exceeding Expectations. . . .

Adam: Are you happy Momma?

Me: Oh yes, Adam. I'm so happy that I get to do fun things with you and Daddy and Jamie this weekend.

Adam: No, no, no. Are you so happy that Jamie got in trouble this time and it wasn't me??

A Million Times Better Than Listening to a Piccolo Pete. . .

I first heard this song a few years back on CMT. I immediately downloaded it and spent the next several weeks toe-tapping my way through the chorus. Months later, a crashed hard drive ate my copy of Shooter Jennings', 4th of July (from his Put the O Back in Country album) and it somehow faded from my memory as well. It wasn't until Rick Emerson mentioned it on his website a few months ago saying how it was one of those songs you just wish you had written yourself, that I remembered this infectious concoction of country and southern rock and immediately added it back to my collection. Not only is 4th of July a perfect song for today, but is an anthem for every crazy road trip with friends, every bittersweet teenage crush and every lazy, going-nowhere-fast afternoon that summer brings.

Unfortunately they wouldn't let me embed the song here so you'll have to click on the link below to watch the video. Just try not tapping your toes, it's impossible.

LISTEN HERE!

Life, Liberty and Happiness to all!

Happy 4th of July!

Do You Twitter?

Take a look to the left and you'll notice something new. My recent Twitter posts. What's Twitter? I'm so glad you asked. According to Wikipedia, Twitter is " a free social networking and micro-blogging service that allows users to send "updates" (or "tweets"; text-based posts, up to 140 characters long) to the Twitter web site, via the Twitter web site, text messaging or instant messaging."

In short, it allows me to post small immediate updates to the blog via IM, text or email when I don't have time to log on and write a full entry or I just have to let you know what is going on right now. Like when Jamie screams, "Beeg Fuck! Beeg Back Fuck!" across the daycare parking lot in front of at least three parents. Yes Jamie, that's a big black truck. Humiliation like this just has to be shared. Immediately.

You can see the last three updates from this page or click on "What was I doing earlier?" to see a complete history. And if you don't happen to have your own life you can even subscribe to get my latest updates as text messages on your phone. How intrusively 21st century is that?

My Little Cannibal. . . .

"Adam, do you need your fingernails trimmed?"

"No, they're already short because I chewed them off."

"I wish you would stop that."

"I can't stop."

"I know, it can be really hard to stop biting your nails."

"Well, I can't stop because skin is meat and I like meat. "

Things I Love

In the fall of 1999 a new drama depicting the inner workings of the White House and the staffers that make it run debuted on NBC. The previews looked interesting and I recognized a couple of faces (Martin Sheen and Rob Lowe) so I decided to give it a try. I remember being pleasantly surprised enough by the first episode that I was present for the second. By the third episode of The West Wing Damonn and I were hooked. For the next four years* Wednesday nights at 8:00 were reserved for POTUS (President of the United States), our newly minted nickname for our newly designated favorite show. We watched in silence, hanging on every word, using only commercials (in our pre-Tivo days) for discussion and commentary. As the seasons passed, Josh, Sam, Leo, C.J. and Toby became as familiar to us as the people at our own jobs and President Josiah Bartlet came to personify my ideal president. He became my POTUS.

Nearly ten years later, I am again drawn in by the wit, humor, passion and patriotism of this same cast of characters and mesmerized once again by the masterful writing of Aaron Sorkin – without whom, The West Wing surely suffers. And I just recently became aware that Mr. Sorkin is also the wordsmith of two more of my favorites, The American President and A Few Good Men. Not to mention Sports Night and Malice. Is there anything this guy writes that isn’t brilliant?

All seven seasons are now available on DVD, the second of which I just finished yesterday. The final episode of this second season, The Two Cathedrals, might just be the best hour television has ever seen. I have included two segments of it below along with another one of my favorites from Season 1. All of them are good examples of the writing, acting, and direction that make The West Wing one of the Things I Love the most.

As segment from The Season 2 Finale. After the death of a long-time friend, President Bartlet confronts God in his own house.




The final minutes of the Season 2 finale. President Bartlet walks to a press confrence moments after announcing an administration scandal. Dire Straight's "Brother In Arms" is the perfect song choice to portray the loyalty of his staff as they head onto the battlefield of re-election and scandal.



One of my favorite moments of Season 1. The Religious Right get shown the door by President Bartlet.


*The West Wing aired for seven seasons (1999-2006) but we only watched for four. The start of the fifth season coincided with the novelty and relentless schedule of a new baby (Adam) and the fact the Aaron Sorkin was no longer writing for the show. Somehow those Wednesday nights became less and less of a priority.

Happy Birthday Mr. President. . . .

In my email this morning I found this. Apparently they missed the memo about my switch to the Democratic Party. But I'm glad they did because although I won't be shelling out the $62+ plus for our dear president, I do have a few words I'd like to pass along.

And one question. . . . how exactly will Mrs. Bush be "presenting" an ecard? Maybe that's code for saying he doesn't know how to use Outlook.


Dear Tiffany ,

In a few short days, President Bush will celebrate his 62nd birthday. Don't miss out on your opportunity to wish the President a Happy Birthday by signing the RNC's eCard today.

As this is the last birthday the President will observe in the White House, our Party wants to make this an extra special occasion. Mrs. Bush will be presenting our President with this birthday greeting from steadfast supporters like you, Tiffany . To be included in this unique celebration, please click here.

And if you can, please consider commemorating President Bush's 62nd birthday with a gift our entire Party can share. Your secure online gift of $62 or whatever you can afford -- $1,000, $500, $100 or even $25 -- is essential to electing John McCain and Republicans up and down the ticket.

It will take the collective commitment of every Republican to retain the White House and regain our majorities in the U.S. House and Senate. Your special donation will help fund the vital campaign services our candidates need to run strong campaigns and win.

Please add your name to the RNC's virtual Birthday eCard for President Bush today. Thank you for your continued generous support of our Party and our cause.

Sincerely,



Robert M. "Mike" Duncan
Chairman, Republican National Committee

P.S. Tiffany , this is your last chance to join the First Lady in making this an extra special birthday celebration for our President. Please take a moment right now to sign the President's Birthday eCard. Thank you.

Can You Say FREEDOM?!?

I am going to WASHINGTON, D.C.!! Let me repeat that. I AM GOING TO WASHINGTON, D.C. You know, that city on the east coast that is the home to the real, actual Declaration Of Independence? I will be there galavanting freely among the memorials sans kids and responsibility for three whole days. Damonn is attending an AARP convention for work there in September so I will be shacking up with him by night and skipping down Pennsylvania Ave by day. Honestly, I would be happy to be visiting a Motel 6 in Yuma, AZ if it meant three days to myself, but for an American history junkie like myself (I bought myself the DVD box set The Presidents for my birthday) to have access to the nation's most treasured memorials and artifacts is like coming home to the mother ship. Dead Presidents, here I come!!

And Baby Makes Four. . . .

. . . . . for my good friend Misha and her husband Luke. May I introduce. . . . .

William Davis

June 18th, 9:50am
6lbs, 14oz

Baby Will also makes Norah a big sister and it looks like she is already taking to the role like a champ! And if you take a look, you'll notice that Will's birthday is the same as my new niece Katelyn (below). Yep, we were blessed with two beautiful babes on one day! Five down, one to go of the six friends/family we know having babies within six months!

Announcing To The World. . . .

Katelyn Robin

Born June 18th, 5:15am
8lbs, 9oz

Arriving in a whirlwind four-hour delivery, Katelyn is the newest addition to our growing group of cousins and the first baby for my brother Jason and his wife Lindi. Congratulations to you both, she's a beauty!

If You Were To Peek In Our Living Room Window. . .

You'd see us getting down with our bad selves on almost any night of the week. You gotta love Adam's Napolean Dynamite-esque dance moves. . . . .

Here Comes The Sun. . . .

. . . . . Doo-do-di-doo. . . . .

So after crybabying about the weather a couple posts back the sun decided to go a make me eat my words and be sunny all weekend. Which is fine with me. I'm happy to slurp up anything I said, mushy vowels and all, if he'll just hang around for a few more days. You know, just so we can say we officially had a summer. Whoah - hold on, there I go talkin' trash about that big ol' ball of luscious UV again. I'm sorry, I take it back. Please don't go.

Yes, this past weekend was fabulous. I dare say, perfect. Sunny, 75, a couple of puffy clouds just to keep that brilliant blue sky from being, I don't know, boring. And by all accounts from Damonn, he had great Father's Day as well. We played in the park at least three times, once meeting his brother and his lovely girlfriend (his brother's not Damonn's) to play frisbe and eat lunch. We also made it to the aforementioned Tigard Balloon Festival which turned out to be one of the best yet. Because of the great weather they were able to get six balloons heated up and glowing. They don't actually take off (they do that in the mornings), but keep them heated and tethered so you can go right up and check them out. Oh, and while we're on the subject of hot air balloons, let me just say I won't be taking that ride across the French countryside. THOSE BASKETS ARE WAY TINIER THAN THEY LOOK IN PICTURES!

But the best part of the weekend was Sunday evening when I came down with a funny rash on my arms. It actually took me a second to realize. . . . .I had a sunburn. How cool is that?

Please Stand By. . . .

Posts on Father's Day and more are forthcoming but in the meantime please read this. It is from Dooce.com but is written by guest writer, Jim Griffioen of Sweet Juniper. He has managed a group of words that contain more hilarity and truth than I've seen in a month. He had me at "polychromatic pubes" and by the time I got to the phrase "only the faint sound of a unicorn braying hints that someone inside might be struggling to empty her colon", I was willing to bear his third child. You just don't get writing like this on CNN.com

http://www.dooce.com/2008/06/13/rite-passage

Winter Blues. . . .

I must apologize for my recent lack of, and lack-luster posting. I have no other excuse except that my life, as of late, is a direct reflection of these posts: boring and tedious. Please feel comfort in the fact that I am not ignoring this site (or you) and that if my life was at all eventful and I was, say, touring France by hot air balloon, changing the world by teaching pygmy children to knit or was involved in even a minimal battle with a chronic case of toe jam, you would know about it. But alas, I seem to be in some kind of parental parade down Groundhog’s Day Lane.


And Groundhog’s Day (the movie) it is. Each day my family presses our noses against rain-streaked windows looking for the slightest ray of sunshine, hoping that this will be the day we can don our new summer sandals. Sandals that have grown dusty in our entryway while waiting to tramp through bright green lawns steaming in the new spring sun. Sandals that are also waiting to Velcro themselves to my children’s very impolite feet which are climbing the walls with the bitter boredom of an extended winter.

In less rambunctious moments, Adam and Jamie, stand at the sliding glass window, Frisbee in hand in a perfect portrayal of the first page of Cat in the Hat. “Too wet to go out, And too cold to play ball. So we sat in the house. We did nothing at all.” I know, I know you’re asking the same question Adam asked me the first time we read this book, “Why don’t they just play with their toys?” Well there does come a time during winter, say around May 17th, that Play-doh and Hot wheels lose their designated appeal and become merely something to catapult at your sibling. I know how they feel. I have stacks of books I could be reading and movies from Blockbuster line our kitchen counter, but each time I see them I roll my eyes in disgust that they cannot somehow transform themselves into an actual, real-life adventure.

But even as I write this, the sun has begun to peek from the clouds and the forecast today does call for actual sun. It even teases a delightful Father’s Day weekend. Could it be possible that our annual visit to the local Tigard (Hot Air) Balloon Festival won’t have to include rain boots and heavy coats? Who knows, maybe that balloon ride over France might even work out.

A Rose By Any Other Name. . . .

I picked these from our backyard which is now bursting with new rose buds on a daily basis. Just in time for Portland's annual Rose Festival.

Things I Love. . .

Onions? Yep, onions. This bag of frozen chopped onion and a bottle of olive oil is the start to almost any good meal. And because it’s already chopped it means no more crying and no more onion odor lingering on cutting boards and fingers. And its frozen, which means the right amount of onion is always ready and waiting in my freezer with no leftovers stinking up the place.

A bag of these babies is not always easy to find. In fact I have yet to see them under any of the usual frozen veggie name brands but Albertson’s does carry them under their store brand. And they’re worth the search because in my kitchen they rank right up there with my kitchen shears and bottled garlic as a sanity saver. Bon Appétit!

Only In Portland. . . .

There's more than one reason Oregon is green. Sure, one is the amount of rainfall that we get here, but the other is the amount of Hybrids on our roads. Especially in Portland. Eleven out of every 1,000 households in Portland own a hybrid car - the highest in the country as of 12/06*. In fact, according to an article in Willamette Week from 2002, Portland drivers owned 500 of the first 20,000 Honda and Toyota hybrids sold in the US. And that was back when being "green" wasn't even cool. But Portland isn't the only city making Oregon green. Bend and Eugene also ranked in the top 15 cities buying the most hybrids.

So I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise to see this parking sign this past weekend, except that hybrids are so common around here, we forget that they're actually something special.

Click HERE to get more info on getting a hybrid of your own!



*According to a report on Hybridcars.com

Mid-Life Crisis

Watching these guys on stage is like watching your dad - and sadly, now our husbands - relive their high school glory days. You just know its going to end up with Advil and Aspercreme. It's over guys. It was great, but its over. Accept it and move on.





And if you're interested, here's their new song, Summertime. Just as sad, you just don't know all the words. The peek-a-boo belly shot that Donnie gives us halfway through is especially naughty!

Never Forgotten

"The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.” - Douglas McArthur.

Thank you to all who have served our nation.

Lost In Translaton. . . .

I'm not usually a pirate. I don't steal music or make illegal copies of movies, but we did order a set of 25 Disney movies from Ebay that have been quite obviously copied illegally by one Asian country or another. And its not because we don't want to pay the $22.99 for each movie, its because we can't pay the $22.99 for each movie. They're only available about every 15 years. And since I'm not sure Adam and Jamie will be that interested in Fox and the Hound when they're age twenty, Disney can just bite me on this one.

But along with this special "international" version of Disney movies comes a few surprises. Like, the subtitles. Suprisingly they aren't in Chinese. What they are is a hillarious attempt at English slang which ends up being more entertaining than the movie - at least for the adults. Sometimes the mistakes are understandable. Sometimes they simply make up their own dialogue to go along with what they think is happening in the movie. Other times. . . . well, check out the stills below captured from the timeless and endearing tale of Disney's Lady and the Tramp.

I Got UR Back, Dad. . .

Me: There’s a spot right there.

Damonn: (Silence)

Me: Or. . . there’s another one.

Damonn: (Silence)

Me: Seriously? Why are you still driving? Why do you always have to drive ten minutes, passing three spots before you finally find a spot to land? You seriously need to work on this issue.

Adam: (mumbling from the back seat)

Me/Damonn: What??

Adam: (mumbling louder) What difference does it make?

Damonn: What difference does what make?

Adam: (rolling eyes with the attitude ten years his senior) Which spot he parks in.

Damonn: You sooo just got worked.

Me: (Silence)

The Rising . . . .

To clarify things a bit about the last post and Barack Obama visiting Roseburg, that picture came from News Review website, not my camera. I wasn’t actually there.

But I was here. . . . . . . !!!!!

My sister, my 5-month old niece and I made it inside in the last few minutes before Sen. Obama began to speak. We could only see his head because of some damn blue canopy up front and we were denied the precious shade of a tree by a mere three feet, but I would do it again today if I could – only I’d go earlier. 72,000 people made it his largest rally by almost double and if he goes on to be the next President of the United States, as I hope he does, we can say we were there as his supporters in a history-making rally.

Besides the sheer number of people coming out in support of Obama – the Oregonian reported that one in 50 people in Oregon were at Tom McCall Waterfront Park – what I noticed most was that even within such a large crowd and with the temp reaching the high 80’s, everyone was still, well, nice. I recall one man, not an Obama volunteer, just a guy in the crowd, filling up cups of water from the provided faucets and handing them out to people in the crowd. He wasn’t looking for a handout, wasn’t selling anything, he just thought you might like a cup of cold water on a hot day. In another incident, Kim and I were struggling to get her Cadillac of a stroller through the crowd and down some stairs, and a young guy ran up, grabbed the front of the stroller and helped us get where we were going. And with just a single request from an Obama volunteer on a bullhorn, people from the crowd started helping them load up fencing and barricades after the rally. I can’t say for sure what this means. Maybe people were just happy we weren’t standing in the rain for once. What I hope it means is that they feel the way I do. That we’re tired of politicians fighting with each other over technicalities of special interests, tired of them promoting our differences rather than commonalties, tired of campaigns and policy based on fear and fiction. And that we’re ready. Ready to accept the obligation of serving our communities in exchange for a college tuition credit so everyone can afford an education. That those of us in an upper income bracket are ready to pay a bit more in taxes as long as they’re going towards putting not only books, but art and music and science back into the classrooms rather than to fund an endless war. Ready to make the changes in our homes and our habits to promote greener living and alternative energy. That we’re ready to be a part of bringing our country up rather than sitting idly on our hands while we watch it fall apart. And that maybe, the first step is something as simple as answering the call, both literally and figuratively, to break down the barricades.

This Just In. . . .

Here it is. . . . photographic proof. A democratic candidate campaigning in Roseburg* during a primary presidential election. . . . and people even showed up -1600 of them! Man, the devil is wearing ice skates today. Of course, I'm not sure if all these people showed up to see a presidential hopeful or just to witness a real, live black man.

Click HERE for the story. And HERE to watch the speech!

* For those of you not in the know, Roseburg, OR is my very conservative, very republican hometown.

Things I Love . . .

Although time just doesn't allow me to listen as much as I'd like, Rick Emerson and the crew at AM970 in Portland really are fantastic. They aren't the typical "drive time" radio personalities with funny voices and try-too-hard skits or the in-your-face political fanactics, in fact they pretty much destest those. What they are is hard to explain, but if you are between 25 and 45, have at least a vague knowledge of the pop culture of your youth and today (and enjoy making fun of it), wouldn't be offended by a segment titled "Penis Watch" and don't care about the difference between a primary and a caucus well, then Rick Emerson may be right up your alley.

Listen live Monday thru Friday 11:00am - 3:00pm on AM970

OR

Get a recap of the previous days show at 10:00am weekdays

OR

Download the podcasts of previous shows by clicking HERE.

The Power of We

As you may have noticed, a few weeks ago I posted an Obama 08 icon on the side bar. I’m not usually one to get that involved in politics. I mean, I’ve always voted and can probably name the presidents and vice presidents of the last thirty years, but I don’t put campaign bumper stickers on my car and the only sign I’ve ever planted in my lawn was one in support of the troops which was there both before and after doing so became a political statement. I’ve never been to a political rally, never given money to a campaign, and never gone knocking door to door drumming up support for any particular candidate. And so I it is surprising to me that I find myself publicly endorsing a particular candidate. And a democratic candidate at that.

I’ve thought for awhile for a way to express why I feel so passionately about Barack Obama and his ideas, but could never put the words to paper. I’ve come to realize in the last couple of weeks exactly why I believe in him so much. It is all about one word. We. His message is about is a sense of commitment, of inspiration, of leadership, of collaboration. Not about what he will do for us, not about what this country should be giving us, but about what should be in reach when you, yourself stand up to grab it. This is a sentiment I believe in whole-heartedly.

I’ve read his plan for the presidency and his book The Audacity of Hope. I’ve listened to his speeches and watched the debates and I believe he can lead the people of this country towards greater things. And if you are tempted to dismiss my opinion as another under-forty, latte-sipping, urban-dwelling (newly minted), blogging liberal, well, then take it from these guys instead. . . . .

The Boys Of Bend (OR)
http://my.barackobama.com/page/community/post/greghauenstein/gGBdmk


OREGON VOTES COUNT MAY 20TH

Flatulence Defined. . . .

. . . . . According to Adam
Fart: (noun) a wet toot.

Proud Mama. . .

Adam read this book last night! We picked it up at the library and he had read half of it by the time we got home. I've heard him sound out various words before but never just pick up a book and read it - it was really a little freaky. And between the booming beats of my proud heart I was totally thinking how the days of Damonn and I spelling unsavory words are quickly coming to an end. D-A-M-N!

Priceless. . .

Was creating a brand new song about poop or having a used Kleenex snowball fight part of your Mother’s Day celebration? I didn’t think so. I’m so much cooler than you.

Mom's The Word

I spent several days looking for a poem or a song to say what I wanted. Then I saw this. Leave it to the marketing team for a jewelry store to portray everything it is to be, and to have a mother in a mere 30 second commercial using only one word. Grab the kleenex. . . .

Happy Mother's Day to everyone!

Click here to see the video on You Tube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAaHTypIZhE

Things I Love. . . .

This week I'm showcasing the fabulous, the fantastic, the irreplaceable Zip It Drain Cleaner! What is so wonderful about this mere piece of plastic, you ask? Well folks, this is no mere piece of plastic. If you look closely at the picture you will see the upward facing plastic barbs down both sides of the Zip It. Now it is these patented barbs that are the key to the amazing functionality of the Zip It. You simply insert the Zip It into your gunky, clogged, slow-running drain and then pull to remove the grotesque amounts of hair, dirt and shampoo sludge that is keeping your drain from its full potential. What this simple tool removes from your drain will make you vomit and cheer for joy. . . It is THAT good. Seriously folks, fire those expensive plumbers, throw away those harsh chemicals, the Zip It Drain Cleaner is the only tool you need. Don’t believe me? See for your self by following the link below to watch a How To video. Never again will you wade in ankle-deep murkiness or throw money away on an unnecessary plumber. The Zip It Drain Cleaner will save the day!

Watch The Video!

Learning Curve. . .

Burning your tongue on your morning coffee should be considered just cause for heading back to bed. Then again, it happens to me so often that it may be more of a sign that I'm an idiot than it is a precursor to a bad day.

Bridging Science and Religion. . .

Adam: What happens if the weatherman is sick?

Me: What do you mean?

Adam: If the weatherman is sick how does the weather happen?

Me: Oh, well the weatherman doesn't actually make the weather happen. He is a scientist that looks at maps and pictures and then tells us what the weather will be like.

Adam: No, the weatherman sends a code to God and then God pushes a button to make the weather happen. So what happens if the weatherman is sick?

Me: I guess God would just have to handle things on his own for a day.

Step One. . .

This quote by Gandhi was part of Dalai Mama's latest blog at Wondertime. It supports my belief that if children grow up healthy and fed and loved, it is much less probable that hate will take root in their hearts.

"If we are to reach real peace in this world and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with children; and if they will grow up in their natural innocence, we won't have to struggle, we won't have to pass fruitless idle resolutions, but we shall go from love to love and peace to peace until at last all the corners of the world are covered with that peace and love for which consciously or unconsciously the whole world is hungering." - Gandhi, quoted in the book Above All, Be Kind.

Sunshine On My Shoulders. . . .

Finally, the persistant rain - and the unusually piercing cold - stopped long enough for us to venture outside this past weekend. We bared our arms in short-sleeve shirts and dug out the sunglasses from the "Summer" box at the top of the bedroom closet and set out for the Portland Saturday Market. It's embarrasing to admit, but I've lived here ten years and this was our first visit. We waded through the crowds checking out the variety of wares (and people) and gorged ourselves on a plethora of fair food including the sweet goodness of fresh kettle corn. Adam was amazed by the street performer especially the one juggling knives. . . . "Oh my gosh, that is sooo dangerous!"

It's afternoons like this that get you through another long set of rainy days that lie ahead. Well, this and the costco travel magazine.

Sleep Monster. . .

We recently moved Jamie into her “big girl bed” and at first she seemed to take to it rather well. She might get up a couple of times right after we leave her room and occasionally would cry for a few minutes, but compared to the year-long hurricane of frustration we experienced with Adam, she was a breeze. Was. Jamie has now changed tactics and is taking more of a “Gitmo” approach to parental frustration. . . . sleep deprivation.

As I said, she goes to sleep relatively easily and her peaceful face and deep breathing lures one into believing all is settled for a night of restful bliss. That is, until somewhere around 1:00am when something silent and looming draws you from your deepest sleep. There is no obvious reason for your awakening; no crying, no scrambling on to the bed, but there is something. Something is in the room with you. And as you become fully conscious to the point of opening your eyes you see it; standing there face to face with you in the dark, its eyes mere inches from yours glinting green from the reflection of the digital alarm clock. And as you fight to slow your startled heart, it speaks a single monotone word. “Hello?” You close your eyes in a feeble attempt to make it disappear, but there is no use. It is already patting your face with a clammy hand requesting, “Up”. So you drag your lifeless limbs from the comforts of your bed and lead it back to its own domain to sit and wait door side, head bobbing into uncontrollable sleep until its god-awful wailing turns into simple stirring and you can be sure that it’s safe to return to bed. . . . at least for a couple more hours.

This has gone on for days now, sometimes several times a night; sometimes at the five o’clock hour when you are miserably aware there is no possibility of her – or you - returning to sleep. It is at this hour that you then must play with her until the rest of the family rises and there is another adult with which to project your foul and sleep-deprived attitude upon.

I know all the new mothers I’m friends with are reading this and shaking their heads at how pathetically out of shape I am at this all night thing, but to all of you I say, SUCK IT! . . . . and go get me a Starbucks double-shot. I've done my time and now I want to go to sleep.

Things I Love. . .

I could pretend that I’m trying to pass on some kind of great wisdom or fabulousness ala Oprah, but honestly, I just figured showcasing things I’ve found, love and/or can’t do without would be good filler when I don’t have anything else to write about. And who knows, maybe you’ll find something you’ll end up loving as well. Just don’t expect to look under your chair and find said item tied up with a big red bow.

So here it is: the first installment of The Things I Love. . . .

I found this tea while rummaging in the break room at my office for something besides the usual offering of black sludge to stop the caffiene-deficient-induced cramps that were reducing my brain to the size of a small walnut. I was so pleasantly surprised that it has become a regular beverage of mine when the morning allows no time for a stop at Starbucks. It is sweet and spicy in just the right capacity which can be heightened even more by a splash of creamer. But I usually forgo that luxury not because of the added calories but because the only creamer available at work is the kind in the little individual plastic cups and there is something scary about creamer that can be kept at room temperature without curdling right there on the counter. But I digress.

This tea can usually be found in any regular grocery store, but if not can be ordered online at www.stashtea.com. Enjoy!

Getting The Most for our Pre-K Buck. . .

This morning while still snuggling in bed with Adam. . .

“So what did you learn for Kids Around The World Week yesterday at school?”

“We learned about Germany.”

“Oh, cool. What did you learn about Germany?”

“We learned that Germany used to be bad because they had a leader that was wrong so the Americans had to go and do a battle with them and the Americans won because they were stronger and now Germany is good.”

“Oh.”

Little Signs You're Doing Something Right. . .

Our recent spot of fabulous weather encouraged me to delve into the summer leftovers of kid’s clothes this weekend to see what still fits or what can be handed down. I love doing this. Between the hand-me-downs we get and our off-season clearance sale purchases, it's part rummage sale, part nostalgia – two of my great weaknesses.

As I dug through the large Rubbermaid tubs labeled “Big Clothes” I came across a T-shirt with “FOR SALE, My Sister” printed in a large, garage sale-type sign across the chest. Someone bought this for Adam when Jamie was born and being that it was a size 4/5, I had held onto it waiting for it to fit. It was still a tad on the large side but held it up to show Adam, reading to him what it said.

He just stared at me for a second and then said, “Why would a shirt say that?”

Obviously he didn’t understand so I tried to explain the joke. “You know how sometimes Jamie is really bugging you and you just want her to go away and leave you alone? Well, this is just a silly way of saying that. Its just pretend that you’d like to sell her so she can’t bug you anymore.”

He stared at me again, blinking, and then said, “Well, even when she’s bugging me I still love her.”

Of course. It’s moments like these that make up for all the times they crap in their pants.

Now With Less Commitment. . .

For those of you that may have been holding back comments because my blog required you to have a Google account to post, I say to you . . . . . "Be Free!" You can now comment annonymously until your heart's content. Please.

Archival Purge #2

Another little gem from the archives of my hard drive. This one a short piece I wrote for an online writing contest about the feelings of an inanimate object. Needless to say, I didn't win.


My dearest love,

Where did I go wrong? When did you stop needing me? When did you stop loving me? I once had all the answers, but now my heart is filled only with questions as to why we’ve parted ways. I thought I was everything to you. Was I not?
When you needed a plumber at 2am did I not have a name at the ready? When you couldn’t reach that last box of double-fudge brownies on the top shelf, did I not lay down at your feet? Did I not allow your endless, infantile doodling to tattoo my cover? And who, who, took the hit each time an insect dared to travel your walls? It was me. Every time, it was me. I’m the one that found your new gynecologist; I’m the one that knew who to call to when the car wouldn’t start and I’m the one that knows the number to your favorite Chinese take-out by heart, but apparently none of this matters anymore.

I’ve heard the whispers, the rumors. You’ve found some one new. Someone that isn’t so thick around the middle, that’s a little more portable. Yeah, I know I’m looking a little worn; a little tattered around the edges, but who wouldn’t after years of undying servitude? You gave me these creases, this wrinkled spine and now you’ve moved on. On to someone sleek and shiny who can give you answers at the push of a button. Well let me ask you this, you heartless wench, where will you be when the power goes out? Who will save you when your online sweetheart takes a dive? Don’t look at me. Your fingers have done the walking for the last time. I’ve done my duty and now I’m out of here. There was a time I would have burned my own pages just to warm your hands, but those days are gone. I will no longer allow myself to be used like an old phone book. I have more dignity than that.
Good luck in finding whatever it is you’re searching for out there. You’ll never find another love like mine. Never.

No longer your slave,

Dex

A Little Beauty!

Number three on our list of seven babies to be born within six months, but the first for my good friend Donelle and her husband Dan. May I introduce to you. . . .

Avery Isabelle

April 2nd, 2008
6lbs, 11oz 19.5in

Running With The Devil. . . .

While cleaning out folders on my hard drive today, I ran across a quote I had saved. It comes from the book Jesus and the Lost Goddess by Timothy Freke and Peter Gandy. When I opened it today it made me pause and think the way I remember it did the day I found it floating somewhere on the internet. About the abandoment and shame, the hate and torture, the bigotry and war that has come from organized religion throughout history. Each side fighting for moral superiority as if being right somehow ensures a place in the afterlife. Perhaps, as this quote eludes, the joke is on us. . . . .

“Religion is the Devil’s greatest achievement. In the guise of religion he has pulled off his most audacious coup. He has flagrantly masqueraded as God. He has had us bow down and worship him. He has had us commit every type of evil in the name of holiness. He has passed off his bigotry as God’s opinions. He has had us segregate humanity into the ‘ins’ and the ‘outs’, believers and non-believers, the saved and the damned. He has convinced us that God likes us but not them. And convinced them that God likes them but not us. An then, in a stroke of dark brilliance, he warns his faithful flock of sheep: ‘Be sure you do not heed to anyone but me, for the Devil is a wily wolf and he will surely trick you.’ “

Why?

New Kids on the Block reuniting

Story Highlights
Boy band New Kids on the Block one of biggest acts of late '80s, early '90s
Boston-based group's hits included "Hangin' Tough"
Group has new material; Donnie Wahlberg "had no interest [in] nostalgia tour"
BOSTON, Massachusetts (AP) -- They may be pushing 40, but the New Kids are returning to the block.
The boy band New Kids on the Block, which sold 70 million albums in the 1980s and early '90s, has reunited and plans to release a new album and go on tour. The reunion comes 20 years after the release of the group's multiplatinum album, "Hangin' Tough."
"The fan response to this has been incredible," band member Donnie Wahlberg told the Boston Herald.
Wahlberg said he was persuaded to get back together with his former bandmates -- Joey McIntyre, brothers Jordan and Jonathan Knight and Danny Wood -- when they decided to record new music. Wahlberg said he wrote 80 percent of the new material with McIntyre and Jordan Knight.
"I had no interest going out on a nostalgia tour and singing the same material," said Wahlberg, 38.
But he added: "We absolutely will do the old songs for sure."
Producer Maurice Starr formed the group in Boston in the 1980s, hoping to recreate the success he had with another teen group from Boston, New Edition.
At the height of their popularity, New Kids sold out world tours, marketed millions of dollars in merchandise and spawned a Saturday morning cartoon.
The group disbanded in 1994. Wahlberg has acted on television and in movies, while Jordan Knight, McIntyre and Wood released solo albums. Jonathan Knight became a real estate developer.

Copyright 2008 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.


Find this article at: http://www.cnn.com/2008/SHOWBIZ/Music/04/03/people.newkids.ap/index.html

Numbers

An article that touched me. . . .

The Real Meaning of 4,000 Dead - TIME