I moved!

Hey, I made a new home for hello grey day this weekend. Don't worry, you can come too! Hop on over to:

hellogreyday.wordpress.com

I won't be posting here anymore, so really, it's going to get pretty boring.
Come over where the party is!

Getting Cozy

It has been freezing cold here the last few weeks, and all I've wanted to do is pull my socks up to my knees, drink tea, and make our house cozy and warm.

Nesting really kicks into overdrive right before the holidays. It's pretty primal really. All of a sudden I've got the all consuming desire to do odd house projects, re-paint everything in our house that's white, and fill the cracks around windows and doors.
I want to stockpile food, and make hearty meals in our giant red pot. I want to buy all the candles, and set our house ablaze.
I want to put wreaths* on all the vertical surfaces, and lamb skin rugs on all the horizontals.
(Most importantly on our dining room chairs, because though we LOVE having metal chairs, they get arfully chilly on the cheeks come Winter.)

So now we have this house. Bright whites, fire everywhere, animal pelts, fresh greenery, hearty food. I was taking it all in, when it hit home...
We've got a serious Scandinavian thing going on here.
And one look down at my wooden shoes, and back up to my braided hair says, yes, I've got a very Scandinavian thing going on here.
I think there are some Swedish relatives on one of my mom's family tree branches cheering me on, and probably spilling glogg all over the lower German branches in the process.  
But seriously, it's getting out of hand. I almost bought one of those yule goats they sell at IKEA this time of year. Which I feel like I have no business buying. I don't even really want a yule goat.
I think you must first know why there is such a thing as a goat made of straw, in order to justify buying one...but still,  my eyes light up at the sight of them.
And in the quiet of the night, Keflavík, my spirit airport calls.

Should we gather the means to go yonder, I'd love to visit Stockholm. (I've been learning my please and thank you's (Tack!), just in case. It has never hurt to be prepared with polite phrases.)
But you check out this episode of Jamie Oliver's trip to Stockholm. I think it might make you want to put on your clogs and go too. Those mushrooms on the beach! You had me at eating mushrooms on the beach, Sweden.

Anyways, Thanksgiving is next week and Christmas is just around the corner. Both of which I'm looking forward to with a glad and peaceful heart. Our little pep talk a couple of weeks ago did a world of good.
And now thanks to a little elbow grease and a few extra wreaths and fuzzy woolens, I feel like Home is all set for a snug winter.
Next up, buy a turkey!

Also few fun posts about parenting in Norway and Denmark from Cup of Joe:
An American Parenting in Norway
How babies sleep in Denmark


 *Box wood wreaths are on sale now at Trader Joe's!

Vikings and Valkyries

Cue the Music!
So this year for Halloween we went Norse. Specifically we were Vikings and Valkyries.

We read this book over the Summer, and Greta was quite taken with Edda, the littlest Valkyrie. So when I was mulling over ideas for this years family costume, Vikings and Valkyries seemed like fun for Kent and I, with the added bonus that Greta would be 100% on board, yeeeeet not a Disney princess! Woooo parenting win! Besides, I had just found the most adorable Oliver sized flail at Target that day...it was settled.
I asked my friend Leanna if she was going to host a Halloween party. Because at this point we had a great costume idea, a baby flail, and no where to go.
I needed to save my party planning energy for December (see previous post) but I knew Leanna had a spark for putting on events, so I went ahead and made the match. Party, meet Leanna. Leanna, party. I offered to co-host, and the rest is history. The party was a hit!
Costumes were made, but like serious costumes were made. Leanna and her family came as How to Train your Dragon characters, and they were as authentic as you can get without the use of a hand loom and animal bone. Our friends Zach and Greta made giant paper mache bear heads, and there was a spot on Lego movie family as well.
Our costumes crossed the gamut in construction materials. Paper, paste, sheet metal, rivets, leather, fur, cloth, feathers, plastic, wood and mucho gold paint.
My dad lent a hand (and a pop rivet gun) when it came down to the heavy duty pieces.
For the armor, we made a pattern out of poster board, and then cut it out of sheet metal with tin snips.  I found the perfect metal pipe flange in the vent aisle at Home Depot, that we opened up for the Romanesque detailing at the bottom of the breast piece. Then we secured the two pieces with rivets, punched a few holes and wove in some leather straps, and darned if wearing armor doesn't feel awesome.
Greta was excited all month long. She drew pictures and told anyone who would listen at church about her Valkyrie costume.
On Halloween day, we suited up while listening to Wagner (of course) and sang Flight of the Valkyries in the car on the way to school, just to prepare the world for what was coming. I loved watching her explain to Spiderman what a Valkyrie was in the school line. The little boys face changed from skepticism to respect. Heck yeah, you respect the class Valkyrie.
Here we are from Greta's concept to, construction, to finish.
And look we won best group costume!

2014 Holiday Game Plan (and pep talk).

Last week I had an eye squinting headache for 5 straights days. This week it's been replaced with a rising panic, it starts in my midsection (my "powerhouse" for you gym rats) , and I spend most of the days energy trying to squash it back down, before it reaches my throat and strangles me.
December is coming. And I am not ready.

I need to be at the top of my game to do December. Usually I rest 9 months out of the year, limber up in October, Strategize all of November, to do December.
What's December? (You must be new to this space, welcome!)
December launches with the Christmas Concert- the biggest party we throw all year.
It's the kickoff to the season, it's over the top, and can only be recovered from the next day by doing absolutely nothing in day old up-do, playing video games and eating leftover ham.
Don't worry I train for this. Because this is just the pin being pulled out of the grenade, the rest of December is one. straight. party.
We've got birthdays flying at you. Big ones. Ones you buy gifts and plan parties for. I've got two very important Gretas with the same December 20th birthday. These girls need gifts, spoiling, and a day without the overhang of Christmas. Dad's turning 60 on Christmas day. Kent and I celebrate our anniversary on the 17th (8 years woop!). These are non negotiable, non Christmas related Big Deals. Things I will weep over if not thoroughly celebrated. And they just so happen to land in the middle of the cluster-bust of Christmas. Christmas which is a one month party/mad dash all on it's own.

And October is when I get my mess together. I do a few exercises. I'll stretch my gift buying muscles with a few early Christmas purchases, plan the Thanksgiving menu, come up with the years gift wrapping scheme, and various other little exercises to get my head in the game.
This is when I stare down the barrel at December and dare it to do it's worst, because I'm a woman with a plan. I get things done son.
Then, when I'm loose,  I usher in the game plan. Last year ( 2013 ) The Holiday Game Plan produced the best December yet on the festive enjoyment/ festive panic ratio.  Although easily done when compared to 2012, which was a trail of tears. 
But I spent crazy lady amounts of energy in November 2013 to keep that smile on in December. And do you want to know the saddest part? I still cried in the parking lot of World Market on Christmas Eve. (Stocking stuffers, man. They sneak up on you every time!)

So this is where the plan changes.
If you plan, work, plan, work, and still cry on Christmas Eve because you're overwhelmed.... and that that was the best year so far? You're doing it wrong.
As I told Greta this morning when she was trying to put a lid on upside down and backwards, don't try harder, work smarter.
Gift choosing, buying, wrapping, sending, is really 80% of the work that goes into November and December. So this is where The Holiday Game Plan gets a new focus.

Mainly, I'm letting go of The Perfect Gift.
I love giving the Perfect Gift. Don't you? To find that special something that shows each individual that you know them, that you care about them, and are therefore able to surprise them with something they never knew they always wanted -at the right price point. It's one of my favorite challenges*.
But I think it's trying to kill me.
Problem is, I'm pretty sure I miss that Perfect Gift mark 9 gifts out of 10. So instead of a life giving high, I'll end up with crushing guilt, (was it enough?) doubt, (should I have got the other?) shame, (can they tell I had no idea what to get them?) all sweetly wrapped up in a bow. And I probably dragged the kids across town to get it, or ignored them completely to Amazon it, when we could have been watching Elf. No wonder I'm stressed right?

Not this year. Not this year. Not this year. (Bang your fists and chant that with me, it's a lot of fun.)

This year we have resolved to keep it simple. Like, I can tell you right now what most of you are getting from us. And it's great, and it's all the same thing.
And guess what? We don't want your perfect gift either.  Watch the movie, drink the cocoa, stare at the tree with the twinkly lights, we will do fine with a popcorn ball. (It's the one kind of ball we do now how to handle around here. Also cheese balls.)

My hope is that this will make the difference. As crazy as I sound, December really is my favorite month of the year. Maybe that's why I'm so clearly desperate to enjoy it.
I'm glad we had this talk.
Let's do this.

*Perfect for birthdays!

Catching up with October

Hey!
So October has done a pretty good job of coming and going right?
Time for a mash-up post to recap.
Fall is in full swing. The kids and I kick leaves as we walk Greta to her class line. Boots are back out, and Oliver has already outgrown his new ones.
Oliver and I do our errands while Greta is in school. We have a good time together, he and I. The key with this guy is a steady stream of snacks, and plenty of conversation. I consider us very similar in this way.
He's also turning into quite the little care giver. He's got a pet seal named Hazel, that he likes to carry around and pretend talks in a high squeeky voice. The care and feeding of Hazel is sweet to watch, as he changes her diaper, rolls her in a blanket, and feeds her toys for food.
You go ahead boy, learn to nurture, and smash gender stereotypes while you're at it. (Maybe next one you could work on is that "boys are messy". Let's work on proving that one wrong because seriously your toys are in my bed, my shoes, my everywhere.)

Greta is either writing books*, spending an hour in the bathroom, or sitting on my lap. She is serious about being as proximate as possible, at all possible times. Which besides the jabbing of sharp little knees and elbows, I find comforting. The world is kind of the worst right now, so if she would like to hitch a ride in my pocket indefinitely, a large part of me is cool with that.

This weekend was good for our family. We just sat around and worked on Halloween costumes, did laundry, and took it easy. Days have been busy, and emotionally overwhelming these last few weeks, so this feels like the first true weekend in a while.
Kent went on a 5 day bachelor party trip to the Outer Banks week before last, to celebrate his friend Aaron getting married. The relationship he has with Aaron (who was our best man) and his friends from college is so awesome. They sharpen each other like iron sharpens iron, and it was my joy to send him off to be a part of that time together.
But I think I'm still mustering up energy from my reserves that were depleted during his absence. Man, home is just not home without Kent. His being gone taught me some good lessons for sure. Like you think you're this nice person and doing ok as a mom. And then you watch your own kids (that you love more than life) without a break for a couple days and find out that no, actually, you are the worst version of yourself after 5:00.

But I think we are getting back to normal around here. We pushed the reset button this weekend,
so here we go, fresh new week.
I will return with the 2014 Halloween Costume reveal, and my Holiday Game Plan.

*She has been a prolific non-fiction author and illustrator. She likes to write honest books about butterflies, monsters, creatures, love, etc. and refers to it as "non-viction". We go through a LOT of paper.

One year with Diabetes

In a couple of days, we will mark exactly one year since Kent found out he has Type 1 diabetes.
The blindsided shock that we experienced has worn off. I don't find myself thinking that any day now the doctors are going to realize they made a mistake diagnosis, that Kent's pancreas will just up and right itself, and that we will all collectively sigh with relief.
While I can never fully speak for Kent, as he processes the reality of it in a way I'll just never know about, I can share a few observations. Simply from the point of view of someone who loves all of him, and in doing so finds so much of what's his is mine.

I think what has struck me most heavily this year is how all encompassing Type 1 diabetes is.
What happened to Kent's body is on one hand, totally science. It's a pancreas, blood, an immune system, collectively dropping the ball and getting itself an autoimmune disease. And without permission, these pieces just went ahead and started doing their own broken down thing without him.
It's a body thing.
And wouldn't it be great if there was a way to separate what your body is failing to do from the rest of you? That would be nice. But Type 1 has affected mind, body, and spirit.
Kent's relationship to food is not the same, for sure. Eating is often attached to guilt, distrust, and stress. There are so many decisions, so much mental exhaustion at the end of the day, when truthfully, cruelly, there never really is that day's end.
Can I just let you be impressed for a minute.
Because he has really taken the bull by the horns with this disease. "Good enough for a diabetic" is not good enough for him. He works constantly, managing and tweaking his insulin injections, injecting part now, part later, depending on the carb and fat content of each piece of food he eats, depending on how much walking he has done or will do, depending on the direction of the wind. And he will monitor the levels rising and dropping on his continuous glucose monitor, carefully, constantly, setting alerts for sugar rising too high or too low.  He lets these alarms wake him up overnight, so that he can take one more unit of insulin if it's trending high, or one piece of food with X grams of sugar if it's low.  He'll wake up to another alarm an hour later to course correct that correction, high or low, on and on, this never stops. He lives between alerts. Striving for a narrow target margin, with a target that keeps moving.

And every couple of months he takes an A1c test that rewards him, by telling him that not only does he have great blood sugar levels (averaged over three months at a time) for a diabetic, but he has the average healthy blood glucose level of a non diabetic.
But he works just about every minute of every day, to get those numbers.  To do what our pancreases do without our notice.
He does it with the hope of lessening the toll Type 1 can take on your body. Knowing that as the years go by, it could mean the difference between meeting one of our grandbabies or not.
God has an overarching plan for Kent, and for us. And we know that no matter our efforts to hold on to our life, or the future as we want to see it, God gives and takes away according to His will.
And what impresses me is that even knowing this, that he and I might die in a totally unrelated pancake explosion tomorrow (pancake explosion?), making all these continuous, careful decisions pointless, Kent feels it is his responsibility to himself and to us to do his absolute best with this.
Now that's grit. And I love him for it.

And Kent is not the only one, and being able to know a little more about, and empathize with, a whole new group of people has been a blessing added to us. And since you're a part of our life, you get to share in that too.
Another thing you can do is if the checkout lady at Home Goods asks you if you want to donate to JDRF (Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation) at checkout like I was asked this week. Just go ahead and say heck yeah.
JDRF is a great great foundation whose funding goes specifically to research and support for those with Type 1 diabetes. (Which, let's just say it, is most definitely not the same as Type 2 diabetes, and assuming so will be the quickest way to get me over a table to collar you, should you be looking for a new way to be angrily accosted. Side note- Can we just name one of them something totally different already? They are just so different. Save the general public a good amount of confusion, and spare type 1 diabetics everywhere from absolutely useless "helpful advice." Am I right? High fives? Call it boobs disease, or something equally ridiculous, it would still be better.)

But anyways, there has been a lot of exciting news lately about possible advances in the realms of treatments like the Bionic pancreas, and even a possible cure.
Just today, this article was in the news, about a breakthrough in the search for a cure. It's wild to be trolling the news, and find something that takes your breath away... news that could absolutely change our life.
So that's what it's like I guess. Life is just constantly changing with this. It has been a much harder year than the year before. But it has been sweeter (no pun intended) as we have found new ways to love and appreciate each other, and we are finding our hearts lifted by new hopes.


Image by: Design Love Fest

Moving on up!

Monday night there was a great shifting in the force. Did you feel it too?
Well, we had kids moving up in life and status, right and left over here.
Greta moved into a twin sized bed (She really was starting to look a little comical in the tiny toddler one.) Which meant that Oliver got to move out of his crib, and into the newly vacated toddler.
It was kind of like an episode of Oprah. "YOU get a bed, and YOU get a bed, and YOU get a bed!
Everyone gets a bed, and not a crib in sight.
Greta especially, was over the moon.
We wanted to keep the whole thing a surprise for her and were hiding boxes, pillows, and bedding from her all week. It was like a scene from an old "Who done it" as I moved just delivered boxes into the garage, just in the nick of time.
Then Monday night she went over to a friends house so we could set the whole thing up.
Her response to the great unveiling was great. At first it was a simple "What?" which has led into a crescendo of excitement thats lasted all week, until yesterday she was screaming "This is amaziiiiiing!" in the car.
A lot has changed in that little room of hers. Remember this? It was not that long ago that this little corner held her in a dilapidated crib, then a toddler bed, and now this.
Enter old adage: Where has the time gone?

Meatball Friday

So we've got this new thing we do. It was inspired by this article, and the premise is pretty simple. You have people over every Friday and have spaghetti and meatballs together.
We like to call it:

Brilliant right?
I'm not sure why something as simple and straightforward as having your friends over for spaghetti feels so groundbreaking. But Kent and I are convinced that we were made to do this, and that we are going to go ahead and let it change our lives.
The real spark of brilliance in the whole thing is the steady weekly rhythm. You have spaghetti meatballs, always spaghetti meatballs. Always Friday.
Because how many times do you say to your spouse, "We really should have so and so over for dinner".
And by the time you start to think about what you might make, or when, the whole concept takes on this sort of mammoth quality. It's get's complicated, and too much, and the line "We really should have so and so over for dinner" slips off into the void for exactly one week, before it presents itself to you once again, via your spouse.
Basically Meatball Friday just takes thinking out of the equation, and leaves the friends and dinner.
And simplicity is so key here. We are attempting to do this until, well Kent says until the earth runs out of beef. But we've got to keep it sustainable, or I'll probably burn out in 2 months.
Which means chilling the heck out.
Don't worry, I'm growing in this.
I love to entertain so much, but sometimes it can be like a crazy, rib cracking, bear hug kind of love.
And I use that frenzied love for pulling off things like Thanksgiving, The Christmas Concert, and birthdays. But I can't bear hug Meatball Fridays. Ain't no way I've got the muscle for that. (Wow, are you still following this?)
So this means: Taking it easy on the cleaning beforehand*. No getting distracted from the essentials. Spaghetti and Meatballs. That's it. Friends bring the sides and wine. We put on a jazz record.
Because it's all about the gathering.
I love the idea, that in the many months ahead, with all the variety that comes with any given week, that there will be a constant.
Friends crowded around our table as we hash out our weeks, kids with red faces, spaghetti and meatballs.



*This one's going to be tough. I definitely got carried away with the cleaning today. On the one hand, it's great to have a reason to tighten up a bit around the house...it needed it. But, there was definitely a point late this afternoon where if I didn't stop, drop, and stare at my phone, I was in danger of hating Fridays and its insufferable meatballs forever and ever...and ever.

Palm Springs

So my grandpa imparted a great saying recently. "Live life moderately...in moderation." I'm all about this.
Last week, my dear Meg and I kissed our husbands and babies goodbye, hopped on a plane, and got ourselves to Palm Springs. Because sun and a pool, that's why.

Our itinerary was pretty packed:

- Sit by the pool.
- Get in the pool.
- Make jokes.
- Laugh

- Instagram
- Attract the pool boy's attention because, am I getting thirsty?
- Drink something with muddled fruit in it.
- Talk about meaningful things. 
- Be listened to.
- Take your drink into the pool, because it's hot, (did you know glassware floats?)
- Attract the pool boy's attention because maybe I'm hungry now?
- Find ourselves a cabana so that we can eat lying down.
- Instagram
- Dry off, maybe check out a few neighboring mid century design shops.
- Laugh because we haven't met one woman in 24 hours besides each other, thanks to Palm Spring's vibrant Gay community. Bonus -We are the most beautiful women in Palm Springs.
- Instagram Cacti
- Dinner somewhere "trendy", where the food is amazing, but the portions are... let's call them cute.   That's cool, makes it easier to...
- Muscle ourselves back into wet bathing suits.
- Night Swim
- Night Cap 
- Night giggles and display of pool tricks (of which I know none, except pretending to be a shark.)
- Stretch out into our very own bed, which has been made, and turned down for us during the course of the day, to Instagram, and eventually sleep until we feel like waking up.

Are you crying right now moms? I know. I didn't want to make you cry. But you totally get it don't you.
This is only everything any of us want to do, at just about any given time.
EVERYTHING.
(And I need you to not hate us for flooding your instagram feed with it for 3 those days. We regret nothing.)
I'm a pretty firm believer that you don't need a water tight reason to stop, drop, and do something unabashedly leisurely*.  Life is ragtag and messy.  It's ok to step out of it for a little while, if for no other reason than to restore balance. 
Life is precious, friendships are priceless, and bodies and minds need rest, like they need work. 
Balance is a beautiful thing.


*Although, may I just add, that being a couple of tired (and very pale) Northwest moms, going through some head spinning changes at home, and a monster year on the horizon, we could find you some reasons.

Kindergarten Girl

Someone I know is a kindergarten girl now...

And she loves it! (Which isn't a surprise. Girl was made for the classroom.)
But I love it, which is the surprise of the century. As a matter of fact, I'll just go ahead and knock your socks off. I didn't shed a single tear when I dropped her off for her first day. Can you believe it? For all of my hemming and hawing, and dreading this day.
I think it's a testament to what an amazing school, that's close to home, an ideal schedule*, and great teacher can do. (Not to mention, a willing student...look at that face!)
Dropping Greta off was sweet but without the touch of bitter that I was expecting.
Praise the Lord! Our foot is in the door of primary education.

*Much later than last year. We get to keep our slow breakfasts! Which is probably the single greatest improvement on my life this year.

The Olympic Peninsula

Over labor day weekend we packed up the car and made our way up to the Olympic Peninsula with some of our good friends, who are freshly moved from Virginia.  I was so excited to share with them the amazing beauty of their new home state.
We went to Lake Crescent, Second Beach, and did a little hike up to the Sol Duc Falls in the Olympic National Forest. While we spent the mornings and evenings at my grandpa's house in Port Angeles, as our home base.
I think Greta's highlight was the beach! She rolled in the sand, made sand angels, and frisked in the freezing cold water, all to her hearts delight. It was her happy place, and she was nearly impossible to reach all afternoon long.
Oliver's favorite seemed to be the hike. Kent let him walk along with him for most of it (bless him), so he got to amble,  jump off of logs and roots, and really had a thorough explore. Just the way he likes.
It was so great to see the kids enjoy nature from the tops of their sandy heads to the bottom of their muddy shoes! I have happy memories of doing the same as them in all of these dear places.
Hiking to the falls with my grandma and cousin Sarah, and numerous trips to second beach with the whole clan.
Adding dear friends and my own sweet babies to these memories made this weekend truly special.

Put to the test.

School is around the corner.
This is not going to be that post. The one where I pour out my soul, and why it feels all bruised and tender from saying good bye to an Era, as Greta starts Kindergarten. (Although I imagine that post is on it's way. I have been looking at Greta with wistful eyes, and there's a quiver in my voice at times. The time draws near.)
But right now we are in a neat little pocket of time, where I still have my Greta all day, and there are Summer activities left to enjoy. (We have a wedding this week, and a fun trip to the Peninsula planned for the next.) Let's not short change Summer here.
But at the same time it might be wise to at least start preparing to welcome Fall. Not quite goodbye, and still the anticipation of hello.
In this spirit, I did my very first rounding up of back to school supplies.
With an official Back to School Supply List as a matter of fact.
It was a slightly intimidating list detailing quantities, dimensions, (I know I got the wrong sized Elmer's glue stick. The list specified Large, and specifically mentioned not Jumbo or Small. But the package would not tell me what size it was, and it was the only size Target carried. And although I was pretty comfortable that I wasn't looking at a Jumbo glue stick, I cannot with full confidence say that they could be considered Large. So I got 12 instead of 8, hoping to curry favor if a mistake was made, and hope that judgement would pass us over.) 
Brands are specified, and sometimes the state in which the item should be received. 
Like 24 SHARPENED Ticonderoga Pencils. I had to ask the nice man at Target to point me in the right direction to find these hallowed pencils. Then afterwards I spent a goodly portion of the afternoon on the back deck, crouched over a blue bucket, with Oliver watching and Greta holding an umbrella over my head for shade, as I sharpened 24 Ticonderoga pencils, while wondering if I'm at all cut out for the work it apparently takes to have a kindergartener.  No joke, I've got a blister to show for it.
So, I'm new to the rodeo, but what about moms with whole packs of kids? How many pencils are they sharpening? And what about the single dads?  Hand sharpening 4 or 5 kids worth of Ticonderoga pencils, as their ties dangle over trash cans, between meetings. That's 125 Ticonderoga Pencils! I felt for those men, and I became increasingly nervous about joining a system that apparently asks so much of their single fathers.
A friend told me later that you can buy them pre-sharpened. Which really is a relief.
See I've been to Kindergarten before, but never as a mom.
So it's all new to me to be walking Target aisles, feeling like I'm the one being tested for my ability to follow instructions. With trick questions added in. Like asking for Large Elmer's glue sticks, when sizes aren't marked. Who are these women? And what am I getting myself into?
Next week we will be meeting teachers, turning in our classroom supplies, and going over school curriculum. I'm sure I will know more by then.
In the meantime, my guard is up. This is going to be a new era for Greta, but I think it's going to be just as new for me too.

Oliver lately...

This face...look at this face.

Would you say no to it?

Well you may not have to, but I certainly do. Especially since in this picture, he is asking for more coffee. 

And that about sums up Oliver these days. Adorable and inquisitive.

Everything is a question, with that up turned note at the end. But not just any question, it's food or drink he is asking for 9 times out of 10. "Want applesauce?" Somefin to eat? Want somefin to eat? Have some Mommy? Want some of that? (Each word ending in that adorably high pitched questioning way).  

And with each no, he gets closer, cuter, quieter, until he is on my lap, and we are nose to nose, as he's whispering "Somefin to eat" and I'm whispering "Nooo".  To which he finally drops the cute and becomes hopping mad. Literally, he hops. The worst attitude you will ever see on this child is directly related to food refusal. Such a shame.

But the answer has to be no sometimes. Because -I need you to take me for my word here- He eats All. Day. Long.

Because he is my child, and food is paramount.

And also I think because, being Kent's child, he has long since solved all the household mysteries that a curious boy need solve. He is just looking for something to do...which brings us back to food is paramount.

A potentially dangerous combination. Or at least, it keeps me very busy.

One of the best things we have done for him lately is to buy him a big bag of play tools from a consignment shop. A wood plane, screwdrivers, hammers, a saw, you name it, and just enough plastic screws to make me angry. Just enough to never be able to find them all when you want to put them away, but still manage to always be underfoot when you are making dinner.

I knew all of this when I bought this bag of tools. 

But I also knew, him and those tools belonged together. Since then he has been fixing chairs, door handles, heater grates, and generally keeping things ship shape. 

With a few snuggles in between.

.

July

July has been (in no particular order):

Long afternoons at the park, with a picnic basket.
Hot sticky nights, with the windows open.
Plastic toys in the kiddie pool, on the deck.
Diapers swollen three times their size with water.
Letting my hair go unwashed and wearing it up like Marmee from Little Women.
Sangria with a friend turning 30.
Walking in my mother's garden.
Kent playing happy birthday on the ukelele.
Freshly cut flowers.
Brats and corn on the cob.
The kids in red Saltwater Sandals, me in red clogs.
Talking with Sarah, and feeling more myself.
Staying up until 2 AM reading.
Being tired every. single. day... but staying up until 2 AM reading anyway.
Mint berry slaw.
Zerina, the Pirate Fairy.
Greta making leaps and bounds with her reading and writing.
Greta crying because her feet are growing.
Oliver saying "What-doing mommy?"
Oliver saying everything as a question.
Mornings with all of us on the couch, one in front of the other, like a bobsled team. Them eating bagels, while I enjoy a slow cup of coffee.
Taking the mornings slow.

There were also times this month where I was pushed to my limits, where we cried, said the wrong thing, wasted precious moments, and the kids behaved like total grump trucks.
But it's funny, as I look back at the month, I have to really strain my memory to recall those things.
Mostly I think of:

Long afternoons at the park, with a picnic basket...

The good night routine.

The kids goodnight routine has looked different through out the years, but I'm really enjoying this particular phase.
Greta and I are going through The Little House books together.
(I feel like I was just talking to Kent about how much fun it will be when we get to the phase with our children, when we get to read chapter books together, and here we are! ) And The Little House books are so good at illustrating honesty, patience, hard work, good attitudes. Not to mention children obey your parents -or you'll get eaten by a bear. It's a parent's one stop shop.
So Greta and I will usually read a chapter in that, while Kent reads Barnyard Dance, or Harry the Dirty Dog with Oliver. Then when both kids snuggle in to bed, and have consumed exactly one gummy vitamin bear, we will sing one or all of these three songs.
1. Ballad of the Sneak
2. Down by the Bay
3. Over the Rainbow
We are a couple of 3 trick ponies, because those three songs are our whole repertoire. We don't sing anything else*. But we do it with 2 part harmonies, sooooo no squabbling.
We will each hold the hand, or brush the forehead of one of the kids (sometimes alternating who sits with who. Although it's unspoken, we seem to know who needs who's touch on a given night.)
There are prayers, answers to last questions, and the slowly backing away, while assuring them that they truly don't need any more this, or that, and that they are hungry because they chose not to eat dinner, and blowing kisses in the dark, and the door shuts.

2 little sweetie pies, tucked into bed. It's a wonderful neat and tidy feeling to have two joyful mess makers so properly stowed.
Some nights they stay that way, and we greet in the morning as old friends. And on other nights keeping them in bed is like keeping jacks in their boxes.
But this is what it looks like now, and I get a pang in my heart thinking about how this elaborate dance to put them to sleep is just a passing phase.

Which reminds me of this interview with Jerry Seinfeld. At about the 3:50 mark...."the semi circle of emotional support." Yes, we are there.

Ps- This is a picture of Oliver last week, taking a nap. Pictures of him sleeping are extremely hard to come by. This is the only one. Because as soon as you walk in the door, no matter what he will instantly pop up, half asleep, and croak out either "up" or more often "apple crusher."

*I offer a wider variety at nap time.

Happy 4th of July!

I hope you are enjoying your day of independence! We are getting ready to take the kids to the park to bounce in bouncy houses, get their faces painted, eat food off trucks, and generally ruin them for normal trips to the park here after.
They don't know that night time fireworks exist, since they start at 10:00, waaaaay past their bedtimes, and we haven't been brave enough to experiment with keeping them up that long before.
Mmmm, no thanks. But it's promising to be a great day!

And just in case you haven't found your way to your neighborhood BBQ or fireworks display yet, and your looking for something substantial to chew on, here's a link to a reading of the Declaration, by visitors to the National Mall in Washington DC.


Image by: Jude Landry

Dining Table DIY

There's nothing quite like the thrill of when you beat "The Man".
There are lots of ways to do it. But today I'm talking about making something you love, that would have cost way more than wisdom suggests, if you had chosen to bow down to "The Man" and bought it at a store.
Dining tables. Such a racket right? They cost a t-o-n.  At least they do when you are looking for a solid wood table that seats up to ten people (mama likes to entertain).
Being unwilling to pay money that causes us physical pain has led us through a parade of tables throughout the years from Ikea and Craigslist.
Some lacked quality, some lacked style, and some lacked the ability to stand up to red sauce and markers*.

But we wanted it ALL. Muah-hah-haaaa!
So guys, we made ourselves a table! Because we're Americans dammit.
With the quality, style, and durability we wanted.  And we did it for $225.

Here's how it happened:

-We were inspired by this DIY table. But we knew we wanted to change a few things. For one, neither of us are really into the whole rustic barn theme, so we went for a seamless, smooth top.
To do that, we chose wide plank pine, and then braced it underneath with oak for stability (since it's a harder wood, and I think sets off our oak pepper mill nicely.)

-We also wanted to be able to fit 10 people at the table. But, instead of making it longer, which didn't really fit our room, we made it a wider 4x6. This way we can seat two chairs on the end, and the extra depth in the middle is perfect for laying food out or playing games. Food and Games -important!

-For me it was important to achieve a light wood finish. We used a clear Polyurethane to finish the top. I think Kent spent about two weeks sanding, and staining, sanding and staining, until it was sealed and smooth.
It looked great! Only....yellow. Like Winnie the Pooh, like, not what I was hoping for.
So, Kent stripped it back down to the boards with what I think was some kind of napalm.
And being the kind and patient soul he is, we started over. This time, we experimented with a pickle finish, and added white primer to the poly and painted that on to stain it.
Whoops. It was too much white, and with the brush marks, it looked a little *gasp* rustic.
But we were close, after Kent stripped it back down to the boards, we added just one or two drops of white to the poly, and came out with the perfect shade of pine for our table.
YES!
The legs were  trial and error as well. We started out with these ikea trestle legs like the tutorial used, but they were a little wimpy, and the top wiggled in a way that suggest tipping...as Oliver says, no panks.
But we liked the idea of metal, so we put these guys on. They are much more stable and we are keeping them for now. (Although, I put a bug in Kent's ear to get back out in the garage and build me a leg base like this. (Which let me tell you, is like asking Kent to go eat donuts, or listen to 80s music loud.)

I think what I love most about this new table, is that it is anything but precious. We've already put a notch in the side while we were making it, and the finish is perfectly imperfect. Whatever comes it's way, I ain't worried. It is ready for game nights, big meals, and sticky fingers!

*Our previous table had this beautiful glossy white finish...it didn't stand a chance. I'm going in another direction these days. Indestructible. We also waved goodbye to upholstered chairs and are now warmly embracing metal chairs. This had revolutionized meal and craft times for me. I have zero worries.

Happy Father's Day!

That's my dad! With the mind of an engineer and the heart of a kid. Builds his own house from scratch, eats more than you can, and proudly drinks daily from his handmade "I love grandpa" mug.

He didn't have hobbies when I was growing up. Although we knew he liked trains, and golf, he couldn't afford the time it took away or the money it cost.
When he wasn't working 6:30-4:30, he was at home with us being dad.
Saturday mornings doing the bills with a cup of coffee, evenings at the whiteboard helping me with my math, working in the yard, playing catch on the side of the house with my blue mitt, chopping wood, playing cards on the living room floor, watching golf with a napkin of tortilla chips in his lap.
He was always there. He wasn't interested in corporate ladders, or traveling the world.
Simply, nothing was more important to him than being at home with us.
At the time I don't think I realized that that's actually somewhat unusual, but it was incredibly grounding for me to watch him be content with us, and with his life, and I felt the love and safety of it.
I know that for him, being a dad is the best and most important work of his life. I know because later he told me, but I knew it before that too. I could tell by the way he was always there.

I love you dad! Thanks for loving us how you do!

Kent's Birthday BBQ

Oh Man, last weekend we celebrated Kent's 32nd birthday with an all day blow out.
At 1:00 we had a BBQ Rib Cook Off & Kent Look-Alike Contest, followed by dinner, followed by  a Poker Tournament that went well into the night. It was a 12 hour party, and I'm still beat! (But seriously, I've never hosted a three phase party before, it was part this is amazing! Part what was I thinking?)
But we had to go whole hog, it's Kent we're talking about! We had a great showing of ribs (8 racks) that were all so good we nearly had a 3 way tie. There were Kent look alikes all over the yard (young and old*), a bouncy house, donut cake, and the kids ran absolutely wild all day.
It was a long, sunny, carefree day!
It's been a big year for Kent, and it was so great to get everyone together and just party.

* The Kent Look Alike winner, was amazing! She dressed as 2002 Beach Kent. (Including bald cap, drawn on facial hair, and swim trunks.) So impressed!

A Beautiful Life

Our May was so beautiful. But beauty isn't always the same thing as pleasant is it?
There are have been flowers everywhere, farmers markets on the weekend, sunny days on the play set, yummy food experiments, but that's not a life, that's an instagram feed.

This month, life has actually been:
Adjusting back to the rhythm of life at home, and it hasn't been easy. 
Travel put wanderlust back into my veins, and You know the saying "travel broadens the mind"? Well, I'm having a hard time narrowing it back down to the size of our home.
I want to book tickets to see places, lots of places, and I want to go now, yesterday.
Iceland and Vienna with Kent (We are already had second thoughts about bringing the kids right away. It's definitely a place for hikes, volcanoes, hot springs, sled dogs, fermented shark - grownup adventure!). But maybe Dublin with the kids sounds fun, or the desert for some extreme heat, Leavenworth for the weekend, frozen yogurt for the evening...
Naturally, all but the frozen yogurt is unrealistic right now.
But I've been stir crazy and a little bored, a dangerous combination. I've started thinking maybe the grass is greener in Amsterdam, that pushing this swing is quite literally going to kill me of boredom, that maybe giving myself bangs is a good idea*.

On top of which, we've been working through a...let's call it a...  phase of learning with the kids. That will be the best way to put it here. Phase of learning. Character building. It's been a lot of sweat and tears at home as we confront the big lessons of respect and obedience. I know, I know, worth the sweat and tears, but I also know...I have half the amount of hair on my head than I did a couple weeks ago.

But I'll tell you what puts things back into proper perspective, driving your husband to the ER.
Kent had made us some homemade pave au chocolats over the weekend, which were amazing, and delicious, and he cooks new things on the weekend so he doesn't get antsy.
But a pastry of this caliber needs to be matched with a lot of insulin. And it just so happened that Kent got really sick soon after he ate his, and he threw up the food (that brings his blood sugar up), so all that he had left in his system at this point was a lot of insulin which drives blood sugar down. And he couldn't keep anything in his stomach that would bring it back up to a healthy level,  so we had a situation on our hands called Hypoglycemia. But not your mamby pamby case where you get cranky because your hungry, but serious, like a trip to the ER.
So we had a friend come sit on our couch while the kids slept, and I drove Kent to the hospital like I was on a racing circuit.
And let me tell you, The Type 1 diabetic in a pickle gets the royal treatment! He had nurses and Dr's on him quick as a flash, putting in IVs, taking blood, bringing juice, taking numbers, running tests, and administering the all important anti nausea pills to try to keep it all down.
And it worked like a charm. For Kent, but also for me.
It took so much of the frustrations I had had this last week, and replaced them with gratitude.
Gratitude! For quick and wonderful medical care, for Kent, for the kids healthy and sleeping in their beds, for alls well that ends well. (He really is fine now.)

The Lord was gentle with me, reminding me to be grateful. Being content, with what I have right now. That it really is enough. He gives us enough.
And that that's it, that's the key, the trick, and the lesson I am going to forget tomorrow.
That's what makes a beautiful life.


*WHICH IT ISN'T. Girls, you need to have a friend in place for just this occasion. Give her the right lines to say beforehand, sometime when you ain't talkin' crazy, and then call her, let her coach you through it.
"You are never going to look like Zooey Deschanel with your cowlick." "You will spend the next year using a flat iron, which you will loathe", "This will take 5 years to correct!"
Thankfully, my Meg was there when I needed her and she able to talk the scissors out of my hands. In the end I settled for painting my nails black, eating half a bag of cookies, and playing video games for a half hour, while letting the kids have full run of the house. Do you ever just want to do something dumb, knowing full well it's dumb?