Guest post: Ask the darkly spectacled Walter, episode one

Hi you guys. Kent here. Kirsten has been saying for a little while that if I want to, and I ask really nicely, and finish my chores and vegetables, I can do a guest post. (She gets to lay down the law, because it's her blog.) There has actually been discussion of a guest post series, and that doesn't sound half bad (to me). So this will be the first installment of my regular advice column. Today's question comes from a Sammamish dad with a four year old daughter and a little nine month old man-cub.

He writes:

I've got a pretty early schedule each morning, and I slip out of the house at least an hour or two before anyone's up. My kids are starting to wake up a little earlier some days, though. What do I do if they're up before I go to work and want to hang out?

Sleepy bus rider

Good question, Sleepy! I'm in the same situation. In fact, the other day, my daughter, who on most days is very strongly against getting up any earlier than 8:30, was crouching outside the bathroom door, staring deeply into me like a wise and indescribably startling old panther when I came out at 6:55 all dressed and ready to run and catch my bus.

Me: [jumping very nearly out of sync with my own soul] Well, good morning, G.G. Why are you up so early?
Greta Girl (G.G.): Well, I was all done sleeping. I knocked three times, but you didn't open the door.
M: I'm sorry, buddy. I had the shower on. Hey, um, maybe you could go hang out in your room until Mommy and Oliver get up?
G: Well, you just have to come with me and play with my toys with me.
M: You know, Thing, I actually really have to go to work.
[real, sincere, non-manipulative and genuinely heartbroken tears, and a valiant effort to still a shaking chin and be brave]
G: But Daddy, I was really, really hoping you could be with me.
[sympathy misting]
M: Oh, Greta, I want to so bad! I would much, much rather stay here with you. But I have to work so we have food and shoes and a house and sometimes even toys.
G: Maybe you could stay just a little? Just a short moment, perhaps?
(I promise these are the actual words this girl comes up with.)
M: Well, hold on a second, buddy.
[sneaking into my dark and quiet bedroom and whispering]
Hey Skirst, do you think you could pick Greta up from my office at 10?
Kirsten: Mmmffff-mmm... Mm-hmm.

And so it was that Greta and Daddy got all spiffed up for the office (Greta ever so much more so than her perennially casual dad), took the bus, got pancakes from the work cafeteria, and settled in under the fluorescent lights of corporate America to change the world together through the magic of software. It was the most fun I've had at work in ages, and way too short.

So my advice to you, Sleepy near Seattle, is to just take the hit on being a little later into the office, make arrangements, and turn it into an adventure. Unlike this column, hopefully it won't happen too regularly, or you might take a real productivity hit. But in reasonable doses, it's good to remember that "being productive" and producing something that will matter and last aren't always the same thing.

The Fairy House

Four year olds are awesome. I love love this stage! Meals at the table (our meals!), no diapers, no language barrier, no problem! And lately every morning has been an honest joy to go into Greta's room and get her up for the day.
But before I do, I love to sit in bed and think about what kind of fun we are going to have together, and lately, we have been really enjoying two things in particular - crafts... and fairies.
And when they collide, it looks something like this.

Greta has been gobbling up the Tinker Bell stories about Pixie Hollow, so this week we made a little Pixie Hollow in the corner of our dining room.
Remember this teepee? Adding some twinkle lights, and bits and bobs, made it into a perfect little fairy house.
Every day we tack on something new. Paper flowers, a rain cloud, more leaves, or an orange for our resident butterfly.

His name is Butterfly-y. He lives on one of the vines of twinkle lights, next to the bell pull. He loves fruit and music, so when Greta sings to him he flies down into her hand for a rest and a chat.
I'm not sure who loves this house more, her or me. She goes inside to talk to herself, sing songs, and read along with her records.
And while I'm much too big to fit inside comfortably, I love breakfasting next to something so altogether sweet, innocent, and full of magic.

These days...

Drinking- 2 shots of espresso with cinnamon on top. (Because I don't drink soy anymore, or sugar, and there isn't time to drink more!)

Listening- The Jungle book has been on pretty heavy rotation around here. When Greta isn't singing Bare Necessities, I am!

Eating- The perfect batch of mandarin oranges. You never know if it's going to be a good bunch until you try a few, but when you do it's heaven. Also the little leaves make me smile.

Wearing- These are Greta's size 9 shoes. We gets 2 pairs of shoes per current shoe size. One Rain boot/sandal (depending on the season) and one everything else converse. She has been getting a lot of love out of the greens this year.

Valentine's Day...actually.

I feel it my duty to tell you dear reader, in the spirit of authenticity,  that my last idyllic little post entitled Happy Valentines Day, was never fully realized and was in actuality a hilarious bust from start to finish.
It was written with tender hopes before the day swung into action, and although I honestly believed it would be this...

It actually looked like this...

Greta woke up with a grey face, and the throw ups.
There would be no surprise Valentine's Breakfast. Or unbridled excitement at the heart smattered table loaded with homemade scones (I don't bake lightly, so if I do, I'm going to need some credit.) Valentines sweets, treats, and mommy's expectations.
Instead Greta spent the morning throwing up into Blue Bucket, on the couch.  I took this amazing quality picture of her opening her Valentines. Look at that face, healthy, beaming, priceless.  (I kid of course.)
We had an unexpected start with the kids, and an unfortunate end as our dinner date was nothing short of highway robbery*.
But, isn't that just the way? That's so Valentine's Day. We have for years, decided to be too cool for the Rat Race that is Valentines, and just ordered in, or kept things low key with little to no gift giving (except last year which was aaawesome.)
But now we have little people, and these things matter! So I am taking this as a personal challenge. February 14, 2014, I have my eyes on you.

*When we got to the restaurant we found out that there was no menu! No Stroganoff! No choices at all. It was a fixed meal, just for Valentine's Day, that was unfortunately unremarkable (tepid, scant, store bought deli sides?) -->
Worst part, there was no price listed, and no choice of going anywhere else.
Kent and I were stuck like a couple of corporate sheep, in a terrible Valentine's Profit Grasping Trap. But don't worry, we escaped with our lives. Although it cost us a jaw dropping amount.
Hard lessons. Has this ever happened to you? We had heard about Valentine's markups before, but yeesh!

Happy Valentines Day!

I hope you are all feeling the love. Do you have any special plans?
Today I think the kids and I will hug, sing gushy Disney princess songs, and get all sticky with sweets in our pajamas.
But tonight, I will put on my new pink dress, and Kent and I will go eat at our favorite Eastern European restaurant. There will always be romance where there is Stroganoff*.
It will always remind me of our honeymoon in Prague.
Where I heard my new name for the first time. (The driver who was hired to pick us up from the airport greeted us as Mr. and Mrs. "Volter"). And we spent our first Christmas together in our little stone apartment tucked away in that beautiful ancient city. We didn't have cell phones, internet, or anyone we could possibly know or bother to think about. It was just us two, and no one else mattered. So we walked the streets and bridges at night carefree, in love, and freezing to death.
Our life is a lot fuller now! And we have tons of people to think of besides ourselves. But maybe tonight, for at least an hour (if we eat slow) it will be just we two again.

*Did you know in Prague they served it with tiny little pickles all mixed in?

 picture source

A little trip.

This weekend we went to visit my grandparents in Port Angeles.
We had such a good time just chatting and resting. Because that's what family visits are supposed to be, and anyway that's how it works on the peninsula.  As soon as you cross the ferry, life just seems to get quiet. More trees (if you can believe it!), fewer businesses, and a good sleepy pace.
Here's the kids on the ferry dock. I think they are feeling it to.
(And then of course, there's blue bucket. We don't go anywhere over 30 minutes without blue bucket. In this picture Greta is holding what used to be her pancake breakfast.)
But the packing, driving, throwing up, is all worth it.
For a nice cup of tea with your forever young grandparents, who love each other, laugh at the elderly, enjoy their days, and are looking forward to the good things to come.

It's just motherhood.

Excerpt from text message sent to Kent today at 11:45 a.m. :
"Being a mom is so blissful as long as you don't want to get anything done." 
This was a condensed rant on the pointlessness of goal making between the hours of 7:00 a.m. and 8:00 p.m. Any such attempts for creative or personal achievement during this time only creates stress and cradles utter depravity.

Yes, it's true. So as soon as I quite flailing against this immovable truth, it's amazing, my day suddenly brightens.
Perfect example, yesterday I spent the day being present with the kids. Mentally present that is.  (I am physically present for every waking second of their lives. Because you know, and I know, that if I were to physically leave the room at any point it would be apocalyptic and I would somehow be that mom on the news.
I have a few modest goals for my life, one of which is to not be the mom that makes the news.)
But yesterday was awesome, being mentally present meant not trying to write emails or brainstorm or trying to finish bits of a project, during our time together.
Just sit, and play with them. (Can anything be harder?) To paint when Greta paints, snack with Oliver, sit on the floor with toys when they are sitting on the floor with toys.  And then take pictures of all these normal daily rituals...because someday they will look extraordinary.
I got virtually nothing done yesterday. And my list is only getting longer.
But it was a little vacation of sorts to let them carry me through the flow of their day (instead of the other way around), and arrive at the evening without any signs of a struggle.

Today was the other sort of day. The day that happens after days like yesterday. (Which consequently results in more things to do.) Crazy hard work and more than a few prayers like "Lord, give me focus so I can just finish this quickly before my children rise up and revolt!"
So which is better? To do nothing but eat snacks and play blocks on the floor all day like yesterday? Or work tirelessly against the tide to make the house lovely, eat well, achieve your goals, and drive everyone crazy in the process.
Hah! Trick question. It's both, and it's just motherhood.