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Sunday, May 31, 2009

um, I'm back? a week in review

Mama Milton has been:

a) Not at home
b) Home, but not wanting to blog about anything.
c) Home, desperately wanting to blog about a whole lot of things, but trapped under something heavy.
OR
d) Not really home enough to blog about the summer that came early this year.

What a week...

track meet
Miss Lexi and Zack at her track meet
Greg and Zack at PGE Park
Baseball field trip
Lisa & Lexi at the City Park fountains
me and my girl at a local park

Nicholson babes

visiting the Nicholsons
(best baby fix; he's delicious)

Sunday, May 24, 2009

these days

If I should be robbed of tomorrow's here and now, I pray these memories linger: Driving down the highway with the windows down, radio blaring, our three voices earnestly singing along, off-key.


Google image of Mt. Hood Highway

Thursday, May 21, 2009

maybe I should sleep more

While some of us (ahem, that would be me) have been resting and recuperating and spending quality with Facebook, some husband-types have been VERY productive.

I mentioned adding shelves to the garage, took a nap, and voila: There were shelves.

I slept into the evening Saturday night, and poof!: I woke up to dinner out.

And I muttered something about planting flowers, and Greg really went with it, gathering rocks from our backyard and building a new flowerbed.

Can you tell we live near a rock quarry?

I'm such a well-rested, healthy LUCKY girl.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

the dance

He stumbled around with the flip top phone, arthritic fingers fat-thumbing a call home to his wife hoping she could decipher the crumbled list in his fist.

He hung up as I reached for the butter, his eyes studying the biscuit and cookie dough products before he said he couldn't find the pie crust his sweetie needed.

I helped him look, a man better suited for veterans' day parades in his windbreaker; a man that brings to mind words like Saving Private Ryan and the Greatest Generation.

When we both failed to find the right crust, he reassured me with a wink and a nod that it wasn't the first time he couldn't find what she was looking for. And something about the tenderness in his voice told me they'd share a laugh over it later, after dinner, while she complained cheerfully to and about her beloved, retracing a dance that makes up years well spent.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Oh, the places you will go. Or not.

I woke up with vigor,
There was a spring in my step
I cleaned and I packed and I was full of pep.

I walked with the classes,
I marched in a line.
I watched Suessical twice,
my kids thought I was mighty fine.

The songs, they did linger
As I drove out of town.
My retreat was a bust,
my fatigue, now renown.

That stupid infection,
stuck around, you can see
And this Who-sit from Whoville
Napped from morning 'til three.

So, my whining continues
Oh, the Places I would go
If I could get better, better, better
I'm ready to dump this damn* woe.

*I think the doctor would cuss too if he was this dull and sickly.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

confessions of a slacker

Google Reader asks me if I am sure I want to mark a kajillion posts as read and I nod quietly in my comfy red chair, the big slacker that I am.

Let me take that back. Despite my dirty house and incessant TV watching, I have been doing quite a bit, between end of school activities and working out and playing house with a sexy virus for nearly three weeks, until we gave birth to a thriving sinus infection.

I am exhausted, and I am tired of being exhausted.

I am not reading; I am not writing.

I am not being my very best self.

But I am listening to the rain fall; resting my head, brewing tea. I'm letting the dishes sit, and making something simple for dinner for the kids tonight, praying for the antibiotics to work their magic so I can get back to field trips, and Zumba, and writing sentences that don't ramble on the page, glued together with commas and longing to connect with the community I adore.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

brunch


Brunch in Oregon City;
four generations.

Happy Mother's day to you too.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

a little faith

I dragged my butt into the gym at 8 am on Sunday, without my date - she was taking a much deserved morning off - willing myself towards the Stairmaster, my nemesis.

I don't love the Stairmaster but I'm pretty sure it will love me back in time - it has potential - so I've committed to climbing floors a couple of times a week. (Blech. That's the face I make when I type these words. Blech.)

Without my witty friend to keep my mind off the clock, I had considered calling the whole thing off. My attention span is that of a gnat and without some accountability, I am liable to copout.

It didn't help that my TV options included: golf (yawn), Country Western videos (something about shutting down Detroit; happy stuff) or Naomi Watts in King Kong (the big bug part).

My fervor wavered. My safety became questionable as I slowed down a bit. Just how far could a Stairmaster fling, if a Stairmaster would fling me?

Then I looked around. I saw young woman racing on treadmills, older gentlemen sporting recent chest scars on stationary bikes. It was Sunday morning and we were all in this together.

I kept moving. I kept sweating. Maybe I've got it in me after all.

Monday, May 04, 2009

potential

I heard myself say it, something about how each year seems to be passing faster than I remember, proving once again that I am becoming a woman of a certain age.

I can see why some people take up seemingly odd passions; develop a stereotypical midlife crisis.

The restlessness accompanied with thoughts of if 'not now, then when'?

But in six weeks, my daughter went from struggling through drills to spraining her wrist to developing a nice serve in volleyball.

Seeds have cropped up in my windowsill.
kids and courtney
Courtney cranes her neck to watch me wash dishes, instead of shrinking away.
plaits
Somehow these moments don't leave me grieving over lost hours.

I feel energized and excited about what we can accomplish in such a short period of time.

In six short weeks, my kids will be home for the summer.
trailblazer
I wonder what we will cook up.