The Night Before

To the Bruno's we go. With family spread between Utah, Colorado, Qatar, California, Bolivia, and 197th-ish Ave, it's a blessing to have familial friends close-by. This is a place where you don't have to ring the bell. The door is always open. This is a place that we always feel comfortable, warm, welcome.The pies don't hurt, either (btw, this hostess had a baby, like, a couple days ago).

After a fine dinner, a program:We practiced weeks for this number. Actually, it was a dry run and the audience appears charitably patient.

Moonlight Sonata-cum-Carol of the Bells. (Before a shocking performance of "Rudolph").

Naughty or Nice?

We returned home to write some Letters to Santa:

And await a frosty Christmas Morn':

Decembering

Zoo Lights
Frigid weather met its match that night in the hardiness of two boys enraptured by the magic of the upcoming Christmas season.

Polar Express
See here for pictures. I echo the reviewer's sentiments.

Preschool

is adjourned for two weeks. Whew. The last day before break, I taught the kids how to play hangman. We used the sight-words the kids were learning. Jolynn, who happened to be there, suggested next time we play "Guillotine" so the kids have a broader world-view of execution methods. Hangman. Guillotine. Firing Squad. Keeping it straight-forward here in the world of preschool co-op.

Anniversary
Number V.

He walked in the door with flowers ... and pulled out a poem at dinner. Good friends took care of T&S overnight so we could give this anniversary a proper nod. We had a great time downtown on Friday and Saturday. There was a Lincoln exhibit at the library (Did you know Abraham Lincoln was offered the governorship of Oregon?), where we also skimmed through The History of Gingerbread, Dating Fabrics, the Federal Patent Office records, and Skipped to the Loo. Indulged at two excellent restaurants: one French and the other Lebanese. We wandered around, enjoyed each others company and determined that this marriage is a keeper.

Here's the poem he wrote. The poem itself was configured in the shape of the Roman numeral "V" and contains a handful of wordsmithing on the number five.

celebrate a chevron
a quintuplet of love
filling out the fingers
of this bubbulous glove
that steams in the tub

today, i'll be brion
a Yahtzee of stars
a Scrabble-played K
a risque of cards
flush 5 running hearts

in a Vanagon - Vroom! Vroom!
four wheels and a spare
two blue and two pink
and the pink one you wear
with familial fine flare

drive into the weekend
as days turn to years
we turn up the volume
like a street of mute mirrors
cascades solar cheers

a fire of delight
a high five of fuels
quintessence together
the penthouse of schools
burns bright as it spools

December 18, 2009.

(I cried, too.)

Sydney

This girl keeps us hopping. There are the frustrating, emotional moments - like I know I put my mom through. But there are also the delightful, silly moments.

Sydney, almost two, has taken up some habits she shunned as an infant: e.g. binkies and bottles. Sydney, almost two, loves mimicking her older brother. Her Wonder Woman wristbands are her version of bandages that I put on Talmage to cover his desitin-lathed chapped skin. Talmage took his off after a few minutes. Sydney kept hers on for four days. I love you, Sydney.


The messy moments and all.

Crash Landing

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!

Kristi??? Remember your front door fiasco? The kids are making snow all over the house out of packing peanuts from the ornament box while I'm destroying the wall in Sydney's room. A curtain rod hanging fiasco in process.

They said installing wall anchors is easy. Just "tap, tap, tap" them in, the ACE guy said. More wisely, Heather said, "Drop your hammer. Step away from the wall."

On Which She Expounds on What Factors into Securing a Christmas Tree

This year marks our sixth Christmas together, fifth wedding anniversary, fourth year in this house, third child on the way, second [insert something original], and first Christmas tree.

What?! You've been together for six Christmases and this is your first tree? To which I answer: "Yes." But then start to wonder why. Analyzing this from different angles, I offer several explanations.

Economical: Think of all the money we've saved not buying Christmas trees

Historical: We were away from home for all but one of those Christmases so, technically, didn't need a tree.

Psychological: I grew up with Charlie Brown Christmas trees. I don't think my dad ever paid more than $5 for a tree. When we'd go pick one out we'd thread pass by all the luscious, full, tall, beautiful, "pick me!"-trees, until we reached the very back of the Christmas tree lot where the scrawny, short trees drooped in humility. Maybe dad was teaching us a lesson about the true meaning of Christmas.

Geography: When we lived in Egypt, for lack of even a Charlie Brown tree, we kids colored, cut out, and taped the tree to the wall. When I was 19, alone in Australia in the Back of Beyond during Christmas, evergreens were also decidedly unavailable. Ditto for Christmases in Taiwan. So, yeah, Big Trees are not imprinted on my brain.

What happens when all of those factors conspire to reinterpret the status quo?

The economics: We heard of B&K Tree Farm from friends. Just up the road, this farm lets you cut down your own Blue Spruce for $15, any height. Plus free hot chocolate and candy canes.

The history: We're staying put for the holidays. Both kids are old enough to get a kick out of a tree.

The psychology: Now, here they are: Blue Spruces for a dime a dozen. We tried to find one that wasn't totally perfect. Like, the one we did choose has some brown patches. Yeah. We did that on purpose.

The geography: Oregon produces more Christmas tree than any other state.

For Karren and I in the front, it was a merry drive. The kids in back had an okay time, too ... when they weren't beating each other up (note to self: kids can get in each other's space bubbles, even when restrained in car seats). We dashed up Hwy26 to Banks,

tromped o'er the fields of ... dead weeds and mud, and laughed, and surveyed ... and then we found The One.

The One (the guy and the tree)

Note to those who mock a measuring tape: You can cut them shorter but you can't cut them longer. We left the measuring tape there for others to use who understand this sage advice.


Tradition in the making.

Naked Nellies and the Telly

Who needs a 50 inch flatscreen?

Thanksgiving

We will be sad when Uncle Richard makes his millions in real estate development and decides to leave Meridian. We sure appreciate the convenient pit stop on our Utah trips. Be it 2 a.m. or what'er, their doors are always open. By which I mean, unlocked.

This was the only picture we took during Thanksgiving weekend at grandma and grandpa Barker's. It was around 10:30 p.m. The kids were still raring to go. I guess that captures the essence of our time there: why sleep when there's a party going on? The kids got lots of attention, Brie and Talmage hit it off; there was game-playing, football-watching, relaxing, the Ogden Christmas parade, and, of course, great food.

Games

The kids love playing with their daddy.


This second video is of an oft-requested game the kids call, "Grab Legs".

Fifty Things

Have you heard of that book? It advocates that the way to cleanliness and order is begun by first, eliminating 50 things from your home and life. I realize that I am not a terribly organized individual. I aspire to order and organization, though. Also, anticipating the arrival of our youngest family member creates the need to carve her a space of her own.

We started the day with the intention of starting to make the girls' room a real bedroom instead of the catch-all storage room. To do that we needed to get rid of the craft/junk/storage/pile table in there. But to do that we needed to find a space to put the "craft"/etc items. It's a slippery slope when you start messing with established chaos and disorganization.

The chain effect of emptying the girls' room found us tackling cupboards, desks, drawers, closets, shelves, and storage bins throughout the house. Things I once thought untouchable and sacred fell from their lofty pedestals without nary a hint of sentimentality (well, maybe a touch). I'm sure we surpassed 50 things. Ironically, the house is now messier than when we started. But the insides are cleaner. Lean and clean. My own insides feel cleaner, too.

Preschool Co-op

Today ends my first week of teaching preschool. We are using the Mother Goose Time curriculum. I was nervous about doing a co-op rather than a certified preschool program because I don't have any real experience teaching little kids. But MGT turned out costing only $50 for the curriculum for the entire school year compared to upwards of $4,000 for the Children's Museum program. I'm uncertain that a three-year-old gets much more out of a spendy program than a home-school one. For example, the important socializing and quality thereof that occurs during preschool is likely independent of geography or tuition levels.

Each parent has all seven kids for six weeks at a time, Tuesdays and Thursdays, 9-11:30 a.m. My turn has come and after scripting out the structure of the morning, I found the time goes pretty quickly (and sometimes, effectively). The kids have free play time, of course ... but then it's hard core academics. They do stuff like:Devouring turkey dinner

and decorating turkey sugar cookies.

Today, Talmage and Joseph said they were thankful for the "Rocketship Place". Hailey said she was thankful for butterflies. And I am thankful for Augusta, my parent helper.

Popcorn Pals

Syd, Lila, Sonya, Talmage, Jed

Rising to the Occassion

Syd ran a fever the past couple of days. She swiped away the thermometer any time I tried to stick it in her armpit. Once I was able to keep it in there long enough to get a reading of 102.9 before she twisted away, crying, "Don't want it!" She was pretty miserable.

One of the days she was sick, I had to make bread. Talmage asked for a portion of dough of his own to knead. It must have been quite sticky, since it apparently required just a little more flour. This pic is a nod to a child's resilience: even when feeling utterly lousy, they are still up for fun.

A Smashing Party

We saw the KA and M&M cousins last weekend at the annual Apple Smashing Party. Even though driving to Quincy, WA is not the most cost-effective way to obtain "free" apples and the best-tasting apple cider in the country, sometimes distance doesn't matter when it comes to cool experiences. This year was the same format as last year. Thanks, too, to the Yakima cuz's, for putting us up for the night.

Apple gleaning

Turning the press

Washing the apples.

For Every Thing There is a Season

Things change in our lives: jobs, hair color, underwear, weight (unless you are Honey Jo or Briton) ... and callings. I was released last Sunday from my RS calling. Bearing in mind that the characters I served with are still pulling the plow, I have to admit (as they will, I'm sure, when they are released) that life is pretty good right now. Some highlights from the past week:

* I had my first patient with H1N1. Nope. I have not had the vaccination myself. (this is interesting, rather than "good", I suppose).
* Fall afternoon walks with the kids. Once we ran into the Jacobson's:* Made some of these turkeys for the Apple Fest tomorrow:
* Transformed the house into a preschool classroom. It's my turn to teach our seven 3-year-olds in a home-school co-op Talmage attends.
* Watched these monkeys. For snack today they had a strawberry/mango/nonfat yogurt smoothie and cheese/apples. For lunch the kids had cupcakes.
* Folded mounds of laundry.
* Started morning scripture study with my companion
* Went to get the H1N1 vaccination 10 minutes before doors closed at a public clinic and were shooed away. They said 3,000 people came and had started lining up an hour before the clinic started.
* I didn't go to my last prenatal checkup. My doctor wasn't too thrilled.
* Organized the wasteland of the art cupboard for $10 (thanks, Ikea).

Looking over this list, it doesn't seem like that productive of a week. Some of you do more than this in a morning. But that's the beauty of it all. Just kickin' it here in Hillsboro.

Kid updates:
***They both have runny noses.
***Talmage spelled "mom" on his own using wooden alphabet letters. He couldn't find an "o", so he used an upside down "e" as a substitute. He likes to play the game, "What does '____' start with?"
***Syd sings her ABC's and can name many of the letters by sight. She counts to 10. We give credit to Talmage and Starfall (and by extension, Erin, who told us about starfall.com) for jump-starting Sydney's introduction to academia.
***The baby is kicking a lot. I like it when she moves around. It's like she's swapping "howdy's" with me and reminding me she's on her way.

What's Grosser than Gross?

The bathroom sink hasn't been draining lately. This is not the first time. By experience, I know what unplugging the drain will entail and it takes a few days to work up the courage to attack the task.

Today was the day. I unscrewed the u-pipe and poked a toothbrush up the straight pipe. Slabs of black sludge dislodged and ker-plopped into the bowl. The u-pipe also harbored similar sludge. The black was contrasted with a fair amount of off-white pussy-looking globules that looked like a cross between aged phlegm and larvae sacks. And then there are the knotted strands of long hair ...

What's the grossest housecleaning chore you've ever done?

Ice cream, anyone?

A Tight Squeeze

It's time to play "hide and go seek" when Syd hopefully suggests, "Counting!" as she folds herself up into tight spaces. This is her favorite hiding spot.

Creepy Crawlers

Hallow to All-Hallowed's Eve! This year's proved enjoyable as ever with a full day of evilness. We spent the morning summoning the spirits through song and chants....

[that's our man in between the orange hats...]

This was his 3rd or 4th trip through S's music class. He's been singing the songs at home throughout the month in his gleeful anticipation of the thing called Halloween.

The church ward hosted a "Trunk'or'Treat" party that afternoon equating to a carnival of the costumed consuming copious amounts of cornbread and chili con et sans carne, with catwalk competition, kooky crafts, cakewalk, kook alley, etc. Our kids were wide-eyed looking at all the costumes --T kept repeating, "What's that chicken doing in the church?" The festivities culminated in the parking lot. Talk about distillation of the holiday. Candy commerce streamlined for both sides of the exchange. You fill your bucket going car to car in a manner of minutes. T did his part.

Back home, we made preparations for the real sortie:

We hit the neighborhood and the group split up quickly into the fast 3-yr boys and the slower 2-yr old girls. I had a REALLY fun night with Syd. She picked up the game quickly and would march right up to the door, clutching her basket (she never let go of it the whole night), and knock. She was great at saying "trick'or'treat" on my cue, and with her adorable looks and those of her two friends (a chicken and Dorothy from Oz) they managed to rake in plenty of sugary treasure. I had to fill my fleece pockets to keep her basket manageable!

[Syd, the intrepid lady bug]

We finished with a gathering at our place for scones, more chili, and more candy. The kids stayed up playing with friends past 10pm. Such an fun day.

[Except for this guy. I'd complain too if I had a slug sliming up my forehead]

(Credits: Syd's ladybug costume homespun by R's mom, T's spider costume from D&J, frontdoor claw inspired by "my-angle.blogspot.com")

Hi Lo! Hi Herbie La!

No u-neeguh Herbie.

What?


Well, we went east in September and far east in October. Here are the snaps and the videos.

(Recommended: "Dancing in the Park", "Beijing Opera - Part 1", "Yangshuo Market", and "Cormorant Fishing")

O Canada

A five-minute photo-video skirmish about our trip to Montreal, Quebec City, New Brunswick, P.E.I., and Novia Scotia:

Itinerary (for our really brave-at-heart readers):

Sept 1: Albany, NY

Sept 2-3: Montreal
St. Joseph's Oratory, Stroll through Mont Royal, Jardin Botanique and Insectarium (a hit with the kids), funicular ride up Olympic Stadium tower.

Notre-Dame and her Light Show. Dinner at Bonaparte. They kindly hid our stroller behind a silk curtain and hid us in the back room. We whispered the entire meal. That kind of restaurant.

Sept 3-7: Quebec City.
Lower Town, Musee Civilsation, and a free Cirque du Soleil performance under the freeway overpasses. It was FREE!

Montmorency Waterfalls, my first taste of putine (Q: What's unhealthier than french fries? A: Gravy, cheese, and french fries), fireworks over the St. Lawrence.

Church (in Quebecois; I understood almost as much as Briton), Upper Town, Expensive Ice Cream on Famous Ramparts near Chateau for Demanding Wife, Image on the Mill (this will sort of give you an idea. Sort of.), Talking travel and politics with very friendly lady on bus home.

The next day, the kids and I went to the aquarium while Briton spent the morning retrieving the backpack (avec car keys) we'd left on the city bus the night before.

One of several long, scenic morning runs for Briton: this time along the St. Lawrence River.

Sept 7-9: New Brunswick
Playgrounds, Longest covered bridge in the world, hiking and exploring Fundy National Park, walking amongst touristy Hopewell Rocks, where you can observe the 40-foot tide-change.

Drive to Anne of Green Gables Land.

Sept 9-11: Prince Edward Island
Lover's Lane, the Haunted Wood, Green Gables. I was deep into Book Three by now. It was difficult for me to remember Anne was fiction. Even the presence of tacky, parasitic tourist traps could not mar my experience in Avonlea, I mean, Cavendesh. Briton not only cordially obliged me by honoring his pre-PEI pledge to not make fun of Anne of Green Gables the entire time, but went above and beyond the call of duty by taking the time to read the first book cover to cover. A true kindred spirit ;).

Immaculately-mowed, expansive lawns. Lots of them.

Gorgeous sunset stroll in Greenwich over Bowley Pond's floating boardwalk.

Sept 11-13: Novia Scotia
Ferry to Novia Scotia. Drive to Cheticamp - thus to get an early start at Cape Breton. Skyline Hike. Waterfalls. Praising the gas mileage of the Prius when the "empty" gas gauge lit up and we couldn't find an open gas station for 40 miles.

Church in New Glasgow (in English). Toured through That Old Dutchman's cheese factory and talked to That Old Dutchman himself. He makes Gouda the old-fashioned way and has a wry sense of humor.

Back to New Brunswick. Spent the night in the Hampton Inn. They had an indoor waterslide - the twisting, enclosed tube kind. I dutifully took each kid down, which terrorized each, in turn.

Sept 13-15: Saint John and St. Andrews-by-the-Sea, New Brunswick
The Saint John Market is like an indoor, year-round Farmer's market. St. Andrews-by-the-Sea is as romantic looking as its name implies. Even their city water tanks are beautiful. On to Portland. Maine.

Sept 16: Travel Home.
Briton flew out of Albany with Sydney. I explored the Portland, Maine Children's Museum with Talmage until our afternoon flight. Why did B&I fly separately out of different states? It's a long story.

How did the kids do? Both kids traveled exceptionally well. But we were all glad to sleep in our own beds again. And not have to drive anywhere far away for a week (next Post: Trillium Lake).

[Too bad the video is kinda small here on the blog; lots of photos posted here]

One More Down, Two to Go

Every day after work Briton comes home and rips off a link. When they're gone, it's 8 weeks of sabbaticalized vacation. He's been waiting for this for over seven years. He's even more excited than he looks in this picture.

(The chain on the right is the countdown for our trip to Eastern Canada with the kids. Thanks, guys, for letting your man-eating guard dog stay at our house while we're gone).

When a "Baa-Baa" is a Nose

"DO NOT ENTER,"

said the stomach.

We've been sick here, in turn, the past several days. Three days ago, the T-ball, who wouldn't turn down broccoli, wouldn't eat breakfast. Around 11 he managed some applesauce and toast (and milk - that was from me, the smart mom). Around 11:30 he wandered over to me and began hurling all stomach contents, including curdled milk. Nothing sadder than a sick kid. Thankfully, he was back to health the next day.

But the next day, Briton came home from work looking peaked. "I think I got what Talmage had." We went to the library for our date, where he excused himself to the bathroom for a long while. He continued to rid himself of his esophogeal and stomach lining once we returned home.

Yesterday, I had a 12-hour work shift. I got up feeling the typical nausea, but managed to eat a bowl of shredded wheat - which usually helps. Before I got in the truck, I found myself fertilizing the groundcover with said shredded wheat. All of it. The big clue that this was not pregnancy-related was that I didn't feel like eating the rest of the day. Returning from an episode around 2:30 p.m., another nurse said, "You look shell-shocked." Not to be disrespectful of my patients with end-stage liver disease, but I figured if I was throwing up more than they were, I probably shouldn't be taking care of them. I've never left work due to sickness before. It was a good call, though. I left a package on the sidewalk of OHSU on the way to the truck and had to stop again on the way home. Once home it was a free-for-all (how many different ways can you think of to allude to "throwing up"?).

Now it is Sunday. I think we're out of the woods. Syd seems to be holding up pretty well and, fingers crossed, has been spared this monster.

Tri-ing It Out

Sexy Di and Sexy I participated in our first sprint triathlon on August 1st. I've been wanting to do a triathlon for several years now, but decided to wait until I was first-trimester sick to carry out this plan. We followed a strict exercise regimen, which, for me, included a three-week "taper" (i.e. no exercise at all). Yeah. So, I was pretty nervous about the race considering my lack of preparation. I used a Sharpie to write a "baby on board" sign on the front of my shirt - right there over my belly. I thought it would make people feel in awe of me, and also, grant some leniency for looking so chubby in a swimsuit. The only problem, as I found out, was that

a) I didn't wear the shirt when I was wearing the swimsuit, and
b) probably 30% of the women there were also pregnant (it was an "all-women's" triathlon with over 1,000 participants). And they weren't making excuses.
c) participants came in all shapes and sizes and were just there for a good time. There was nothing to be self-conscious about.

As they say, Malesh.

The triathlon experience was awesome. I have found my new favorite race. The lake water was not cold and choppy like I imagined it would be (even though the pre-race lit specified it would be a balmy 70 degrees). It's fun to rise out of the lake water, when you get back to shore, like an evolving amoeba and then squish-squish across the timing pad that goes *beeeeeep* as you run down the shoot towards the bike transition area. Spectators line both sides of the chute, cheering all the racers. At that point I had long ago tossed my body image to the wind and let my chubby thighs flop around with freedom and pride.

A friend had informed me, the night before, that "no, you do not have a private changing booth in the transition area." Apparently, people wear the same clothes throughout the race. Just a little FYI there for all of you who are considering a triathlon in your future. I felt compelled to put on shorts and a t-shirt anyway - but threw it on over my wet swimsuit. The bike portion was super great. There are all these rules about keeping so much distance between your bike and other bikes, passing on the right and under a certain amount of time. A monitor rides the course looking for people breaking these rules so he can DQ them. It's serious stuff. Mostly, though, I enjoyed a scenic ride along the river. I spied Heather on the course (she was way ahead of me, burning past someone on the return portion. Uphill) - we let out mutual whoop-whoops of joy.

Then it was time for the run. Oh, my. It might be more accurate to say, "the hobble." My three-week taper did not prepare me for this part of the race. But it was only a 5K, so I hobbled/walked the last bit, drawing on my inner qi for the last sprint down the chute. I pounded across the timing pad to hear the *beeeeeeeeeep* and was done. A volunteer clips the timing chip off your ankle, another tosses the finishers medal around your neck, and someone else points you to the lunch line. We had a great time and are now committed fans of the triathlon. Looking forward to doing an Olympic distance next year. After the baby.

Dead as a Door Nail

Tillamook County Fair

We'd heard a lot about the corn dogs out west, so we packed up our wagon Saturday and pushed out to Tillamook for their big county fair. I tripped over the entry fee on the way in (ouch!) and had to wander around inside to find an ATM in order to get my family in (remember to take cash to the fair, and lots of it!). Lots of sights and sounds...

The most exciting event was the DEMOLITION DERBY! Bumper cars, the real deal. Old clunkers, with no mufflers, flooring it in reverse, trying to cream any other car they can find. It is INTENSE to watch --live metal carnage, LOUD engines roaring, tires popping, smoke pouring out of hoods. The local fire department was right there on the premises, and the big red engine would let out a blarring honk when they figured enough damage was done. The few surviving cars would "limp" off, while the big John Deeres would come on and pull away the dead. Then, back in the "pits" we could see the sparks flying off the grinders and the blue flames of welders working as the teams tried to resuscitate their poor war machines for the next heat... amazing. Just ask T!

In the end we never ate a corn dog (Robin had a corn zucchini thing which was very good), but we sure drank some sweet summertime.

We've got the glasses

Which speak volumes about our grilled cheese sandwiches.