Wednesday, September 26, 2012

the imposter

shirt: Target, scarf: gift, pants: Ross, shoes: Franco Sarto

You know how back in third grade when you thought you had to like all the exact same things as your bff? And even if you didn't really like something you'd pretend you did just because your bff did?  While I've outgrown that phase in many ways, there is one area I still get sucked back into.  But this time it's not just my bff, it's EVERYBODY.
I swear, everybody loves college football. 
Except me.
In fact, I'm pretty confident I've never even watched a single college football game in its entirety {this however does not keep me from attending game day get-togethers.  If there's seven layer dip there, so am I--so keep the invites comin'}.  Anyway... for some reason, when everyone is walking around in their game-day attire, I find myself feeling the need to revert back to my former third grade self and pretend to care.  So, I'll say things like "You watching the game this weekend?" and smile.  {I learned early on not to ask if they were attending the game, because lord knows I have no stinkin' idea if it's at home or away--FYI the recipients of this question were not intending to fly to Utah for the game.}   Anyway, I was talking with a patient the other day, a young man in his early 20's, and he was telling me about how school was starting again soon, so of course we start talking about which university he goes to and all the usual.  So then, being all football saavy, I coolly ask him "So you like the Beavs?" {because abbreviations=real fans}.  Good one, right?  I'm on a roll.

He responds "Yeah, I guess you could say that... I'm kinda on the team..."
Exposed as the imposter that I am.

Monday, September 24, 2012

a good weekend

Homemade popsicles.
Downtown strolls.
Goose watching.
Trying to hurry back to the car as fast as possible because we had a bag *gasp* hanging from the back of the stroller.  "I feel like a transient", says Jon.  "I think it's okay to carry a shopping bag when you're walking dowtown," says I.  "But it's from Ross..." laments he. 
Just a girl & her pup, and a large elk statue.
Carmel apple excitement.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

birds & the best advice you'll ever hear

We went to check out the swifts as they make their annual migration through Portland again this year, and watched as they decsended like backward smoke into the chimney of Chapman Elementary School.  Apparently, back in the day when these birds first decided to roost there, that chimney was still the main source of heat for the school.  The school officials knew that if they lit the furnace, the birds would be forced to move on, but if they let the birds stay, the kids would all be shivering in their seats.  Well, they just couldn't make up their minds, so they left the decision up to the kids.  And I bet you can guess what the kids chose--they concluded it'd be better to wear their coats in the classroom for a few weeks than to  force the birds to leave.  Don't you just I love kids?  Anyway, within a couple of years the Audubon Society got involved and built the school another chimney that they could actually use for the purpose it was created...yada yada yada... and here we are today.  And out of the sea of chimneys in Portland, the birds continue to come to this one.  It's a pretty amazing sight to take in.

Also, a friend of mine posted a link to this article on good ol' FB.  Jon and I had a good chuckle and then agreed in all seriousness that this may just be the best parenting advice we've ever heard.  Someone give this woman the Nobel Peace Prize for imparting such wisdom into the world.  One of my fave bits of advice:

'You can't win at parenting or homemaking. If you think you're winning then everyone else thinks you're a dick."

Hahahaha!  But seriously, so true.  Don't we all know someone who thinks they're the only one who knows how to do it right?  Although, if I'm being totally honest, I think I probably love this one because there is not one shred of doubt in my mind that I am losing/lost/there-is-no-hope-for-me in the homemaking department.  Whatevs, such is life.

Monday, September 17, 2012

lazy summer days

dress: F21, shoes: Guess, belt: vintage, watch: Target

Sunday was Sam's half birthday.  Three and half, how did you sneak up on me so fast??  I remembered two days before the "big" day and I made plans to mark his height on the door frame & make cookies to celebrate.  But then I forgot by the day of.  I am kind of forgetful.  Jon loves having to remind me of things all.the.time. I should rename him elephant man.  You know, because elephants remember everything?  I think he'd love it.  Except he forgot to remind me of Sam's half birthday, so he lost his chance.

Anyway, we spent the day of Sam's forgotten half birthday out on the lake with my family.  Such a warm sunny, beautiful summer day.  Tubing, fishing, getting awesomely tan {oh wait...}, one particular individual getting fish scales stuck on his big toe, relaxing in the warm breeze, loving every second of it.  However, it was also bittersweet because this was the last weekend before my parent's boat goes into storage for the winter.  On the way home, it struck me that this was my official last day of summer.  I know there are peeps dying for fall out there, but not me, not yet.  I do love fall, but I love my long, warm, sun-filled, lazy summer days too.

Oh well.  At least when those rainy days come, I'll still have this dress to twirl in.

Friday, September 14, 2012

the year I no longer get to pick

 Well.... that's it.  No more cuddly, fuzzy, cutesy-wootsy, animal Halloween costumes for us.  We came across this costume at Ross and it was love at first sight.  Sam hearts anything Optimus Prime & mama hearts anything less than $10.  It was destiny.  Of course he had to try it on the second we walked through our front door.  "Fwom now on, I'm the good guy wobot".

But who knew Optimus would have such difficulty when it comes to eating his breakfast cereal?

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

7 weeks

A man and his wife came in to find out the results of his MRI.  They already knew it was going to be bad news, otherwise wouldn't the doctor just tell them over the phone?  They sat there side by side, a nice couple in their early 50's, trying to smile politely, but not saying a word.  He was still wearing his work ID around his neck.  It was so faded you could hardly see his picture on it anymore.  Up until that point, they had just been going about their regular day, like they had for years.  His heart was racing, hers probably was too, but it wasn't her vitals I was getting.  The news that was about to change their lives:  he only had approximately 7 weeks to live.  Metastatic pancreatic cancer.

This encounter broke my heart.
And really made me think.
What would I do differently if I knew that I only had 7 weeks to live?

Oh my, I don't think I could even count the ways.  I wouldn't be working at my job, or any job.  I would spend every waking second glued to Jon and Sam.  Soaking it all in.  Trying my best to give them a lifetime of love in only a matter of weeks.  I would surround myself with the family and friends I love.  We would laugh and cry and stay up talking until the sun began to rise.  Then we'd say, "Goodbye, see ya later".  And maybe, if time allowed, I'd travel to some of the places I have only dreamed of visiting.  I would write letters to Sam.  Real life, pen-on-paper letters and seal them up with strict instructions not to open until the date marked on the envelope.  One for his first day of kindergarten. One for the day he graduates high school.  One for his wedding day.  One for the day he becomes a daddy.  All of them overflowing with all the motherly wisdom and love I could muster.  I wouldn't waste one second on anger, envy, or grudges, because I would be all too aware of the fact that my life was too short and time too precious.

While it is not possible to live entirely by this philosophy, I intend to the hold the basic principles close to my heart, cherishing the life I have been given.  Because life is too short, whether I have 7 weeks or 70 years.

Friday, September 7, 2012

only a mother...

shirt: Target, pants: Ross, shoes: JC Penney,  tired face: c/o long day of sitting through talks of benefits, disaster preparedness plans, & the thrilling history of your health care system

  • ...would have to figure out an appropriate response to a 6 year old girl decked in 'Tangled' jammies, with a giant gap-toothed grin, who is in the process of moving in two doors down from you, when she introduces herself/greets/compliments you by saying "I like your son" in the same tone you'd expect to hear someone say, "I like your puppy" or "I like your sweater".
  • ...gets to experience the pure pride & joy horror of watching her offspring pick his nose and smear his booger across her friend's parents' lovely living room rug.  in front of every. body.
  • ...gets to watch as her little boy dances while her sister plays the piano, spinning in circles, faster and faster, until he falls down.  Then exclaims, "Look mommy!  Look at what happens when I spin really fast... look, the house is moving!".
  • ...would allow her child to continue believing that his spinning makes the whole house move, because she doesn't yet want to squash that enthusiasm and wonder he has for the world.
  • ....would, however, be the same mother who unwittingly makes her son cry by informing him that all the dinosaurs are dead.
  • ... would die a thousand happy deaths at the sound of her little one's voice proclaiming, "I love you forever!" while being smothered in tiny ridiculously-puckered-sloppy-lip kisses.
  • ...would honest to goodness belly laugh when a little someone very much intentionally toots on her.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

when your husband plays stay-at-home-dad for a day...

... you may return home to find your child in a t-shirt that hasn't fit for the past 6 months, wind pants & cowboy boots, standing on a cooler, eating spaghetti with a serving spoon straight from the pan.
{and happy as a clam, I might add}

Monday, September 3, 2012


 berry pickers

sam's new baby cousin {Congrats Tommy & Sarah!}


 a little light reading

 sam & mommy fishing. Jon was ashamed when he saw this picture, "why is the reel in the water?"

 the real fisherman of the fam

 post-nap cuddles

 what's a family vacay without a little poker?

 "robot arm"

 nothing like a refreshing nights sleep while on vacation.  well for one of us anyway...

tubing hill

my dad sent us this picture while on their Grandpa-Sam date.
sam is obviously enjoying all the important food groups: ice cream, cookies & jello.
{the best part is daddy and mommy got to go on a date too!}

Sunday, September 2, 2012

note to self: always remember this

{top: Kohls, jeans: Gap, watch: Target} 

Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, 
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, 
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, 
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of
   the water, 
Or stand under trees in the woods, 
Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night
   with any one I love, 
Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, 
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, 
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer
Or animals feeding in the fields, 
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, 
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so
   quiet and bright, 
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; 
These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, 
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with
   the same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.

To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—
   the ships with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there? 
-Walt Whitman-