Tuesday, September 28, 2010

sneak peek: living room and mutt

I say I've moved but I haven't offered up any proof of said new home.

(Also: Please help me find a *new* way of saying *new*. I have overused it this past month and cringe every time I see it.)

Let's start with the living room, because it looks clean-ish it's the only room that's had a photo shoot of sorts.

I love the hickory wood floors, and the spacious vaulted ceilings and I'm not even quoting a realtor. It's light and airy, even when it's gloomy outside. Great news for drizzleland.
Jake wakes from his nap, ready for his photo shoot. It's all about you, isn't it Jake?
Jake. You are such a goober.

Sunday, September 19, 2010


Come Sunday evening, my mind drifts to Vancouver, where my people often gather for family night dinner. It's informal, elbows around the table, kids spilling into the yard of that week's brave host.

Like potluck, but better.

I find myself thinking of all the things I would say, if I was drinking a glass of wine with my best friends tonight.

It's not that I'm unhappy here. I am drinking some Chinese medicine, to ward off a cold, and Greg is cooking for the second night in a row. I hear NFL from the other room; the dogs are nestled by my feet.

I just miss sharing it, with them. So I make due with phone calls, and texts, and emails, and know - as I did the day I moved - that I was blessed beyond measure. Still am.

Lucky, lucky me.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

I'm still aswim in boxes, the last dastardly ones that lack rhyme or reason so they may get shoved in the corner & forgotten or so it seems, but I decided to take a Borders break.

A loitering I went, taking notes on books I might like to read this fall and looking at Christmas cards (ghastly, pre-Halloween fare) before I settled into a big black leather chair, burying myself in art and craft magazines.

I'm not sure how much time had passed before I panicked, sure I had left Zack waiting curbside and traumatized while I opened my own etsy shop. In my head.

I came to, and no children were abandoned.

But I did come back transfixed by what I found:

Here's where I was going to link to fun projects, so you too could look up the magazines/websites, and be inspired, and maybe you too could open your own etsy shop. In your head.

Strangely enough, I can't copy any of the pictures or link to anything of consequence (I know, I know, and I wasn't trying to steal anything because they include instructions and I am more than willing to give credit where credit is due) so I will just have to wow you with the results. When I make things, and not in my head otherwise known as for reals.*

*Hopefully ending a post with 'for reals' didn't cause spontaneous eye-bleeding or seizures. Ever so sorry.

Monday, September 13, 2010

a cup of sugar

My son has been standing on a chair for the better half of the afternoon, courting a new friend in the yard behind ours. He intermittently runs football plays for her - sure to impress any 9 year old girl - giving his sister a chance to saddle up to the fence for some much needed company as well.

Tomorrow or maybe the next, I will make my way to their front porch, like a proper adult and introduce myself and invite their kids to play with mine, one yard to rule them all.

Tonight, I will watch from my window, as my kids toss seeds over slated wood, hoping a friendship blooms.

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Death by Gilad (because capoeira makes me feel like a chump)

I left my gym membership behind, north on the I-5. I know as a card-carrying member of the mom-types, I am supposed to really dislike working out, but I do it anyway because it is socially what's expected of me, or some such nonsense, but I haven't felt that way in years.

(Except for the dang stairmaster. I am not a fan, and I only climbed those suckers because it's good for me, and I get uninterrupted bff time with Jen.)

I work out because it really does make me feel better and keeps me sane(r). End of story.

Gym-less, I decided I could save a few bucks, and start DVRing programs - I sound like my Grandma - to peruse at my leisure.

I've tried the Core Fusion routines, deceivingly easy looking but painful.

I've tried some Bollywood dance routines, and I've relied on one of my favoriteTV instructors for some yoga. (I would so befriend Sara Ivanhoe if she lived nearby and that's before I was friendless in a new town.)

Then I got daring, thought 'perhaps I should give some of this Brazil-y workout stuff a try' (profound stuff, I know) and I took on capoeira.

It started out easy enough, but soon I was tossing my head this way and that, and the snickering - THE SNICKERING - of the young offspring when I did the little half-assed cartwheel thing. It really was more than any of us could rightfully bear.

So I either need to cough up some cash or it's going to be a long, rainy autumn with Gilad, the only weightlighting class on TV I can tolerate.

On the bright side, gym deprivation may motivate to get my act together sooner, so I can start teaching Zumba again.

Because no one ever snickers at me about that. Heh.

Saturday, September 04, 2010

a dip, during our trip

We stayed all tourist-like, lodging in a hotel in our former little town. [Former, as in 'we lived there two weeks ago'.]

We visited the elementary school, where both my kids attended, and made our goodbyes.

We visited friends, visited Bad Mom's new classroom, ate delicious homemade food and played with baby guinea pigs.

I even saw my acupuncturist in Portland, for good measure.

Then a spontaneous swim party broke out.

Zack, Lexi and Kylen.

Quinn B.

Little Smart Girls. And boys.

Summer sure is sweet.

Wednesday, September 01, 2010


In one month, a mere 31 days, Mrs. Milton has done the following:

  • Went on a uber-romantic trip with her hubby to Europe (Rome, French Riviera, Monte Carlo). I have much to tell you, dear reader
  • Cried &/or carried an ache in her throat from the not boo-hooing continuously. Moving is hard, Barbie.
  • Registered both kids for new schools, went back to school shopping and prayed for the quiet that school will bring.
  • And has dreaded the quiet school will bring.
  • Made a quick road trip to visit her in-laws
  • Has fretted over bad skin, a harbinger of too little sleep, eating crappy food, and skipping the sweat that makes everything better.
  • Flung an exfoliating acne gel into her right eye, while trying to quell the skin trauma.
  • Thanked God her eye is still intact because believe me when I say this is not pleasant.
  • Called the gas company, all Nervous Nelly like, when I smelled gas in my house. Dude said there's a dead mouse in my garage. Is this good news? At least we are safe.
And now I'm off to tame hungry children, clean unfinished projects, and to PACK again for a short sojourn home (confused on that still), so the kids can rightfully say good-bye to their classmates at their old schools.

Call me Mama Mental.