Happy New Year!

I had a dream last night that I spun out on the ice again. I was back in Massachusetts, on the highway from Worcester to Shrewsbury (Hwy. 9?), and was the middle car in a caravan of three. The road was empty, except for our caravan. I'm pretty sure Bobby Flay was the driver of the first car, but that's beside the point. In my dream, my little dark blue Ford started slipping on the ice, and this time I was completely calm. I was not scared at all. I did not brake, but held the wheel straight and the car decelerated to a safe stop in the middle of the road. Bobby Flay got out of the first car and congratulated me on my driving skills. Weeeeeeird. My mind must be longing for a do-over. Let's just reverse time, go back, and do that right this time, m'kay?

It is that time again, I suppose. The time to restart, resolve, try again, solve again. Fresh beginnings, unwritten endings, and the in between of possibilities. I love me a bright, shiny New Year.

So, back to the tail spin. Last week was insane. Bonkers. Winter break gone mad. I won't belabor all the trivial nasties that happened this week. But here's the short list:

1. Anika closed Kaden's pinkie finger in a door. Five stitches.
2. Both kids had trouble breathing, resulting in plastic cage of death (i.e., chest X-ray), pneumonia, nebulizer, antibiotics all around.
3. Garage door needs to be replaced. Open the garage door before you back up. You'll thank me later for this fine piece of advice.
4. Ryan fell down the basement stairs, full box of glass ornaments in hand. He is fine. Ornaments, not so much.
5. And... I slide off the road at 45 mph and lodged my car in the ditch.

Black ice. You may have heard of it. Since my locale doesn't typically get a lot of snow, black ice is our Winter weather hazard of choice. It was the morning after Christmas, which is one of my favorite days of the year. Every year, my sister and I get up in the wee hours to hit the Christmas clearance. We even did it "together" from across the country. My list typically includes: Target, The Inkwell, Hallmark. And more recently Creative Crafts, JoAnns, and Fred Meyers. I'm straight up addicted to wrapping paper, ribbons, gift tags, and other gift adornments. I love love love the whole process of wrapping presents - selecting the right packaging, the crispness of the paper, a perfect seam, picking coordinating ribbon, signing the tag... my fingers twitch just writing about it. This addiction is perennial. I just can't quit it. So every year, I stock up on all the trimmings, wild clearance style.

Back to Christmas Morning Eve Morning... 6:45 am is our meeting time, so I'm out the door by 6:15 am. I get into my car, mosey down the gravel hill, turn left onto Oak Creek Drive. I accelerate as I come out of the turn, gathering speed, take a gentle right, and then a gentle left, cruising at about 45-50 mph, as best I can estimate. The speed limit is 50 mph, but I was still in the turns, so I don't think I could have been going much faster. On that second turn, I caught some black ice. I wasn't worried. Everyone has slipped a little on black ice - just a little slip, and then as the traction catches, you slow down thinking "Black ice! Better be careful." But this time, the traction never caught. I just continued to slip. In my panic, I did all the things you shouldn't do when you get iced - I turned the wheel sharply in the wrong direction and braked hard. The car continued to turn in a circle to the left, the whole time slipping down the road at 45+ mph.  I do remember yelling "No. No. NO. NO! NO! NO!! NO!! NO!! NO!!" over and over and over again, all the while thinking "Holy shit, I possibly could die right now, or at least be seriously injured." My thoughts went from "It's okay, just a patch" to "I'm might die" in milliseconds. After what seemed like a really, really long time of sliding down the road backwards, I finally heard the horrifying sound of metal scraping, as my car's undercarriage met the asphalt edge of the road and ultimately lodged itself down the steep ditch on the opposite side of the road. Along the way, I also grazed a telephone pole down the right side and took out a road sign. The right side of the car was completely pressed up against the side of the embankment. The left side was at so high of an angle, it was very hard to get out alone. I must have either closed my eyes while the car was spinning, or else my mind just decided vision was the least important variable, because I have no recollection of actually seeing anything until the car had stopped moving.

Looking back, I think the speed was the most terrifying factor. I was moving so quickly in this huge piece of metal that I had no control over. Driving a car is all about these small deliberate movements - a press of your foot, a turn of your wrist. In most accidents, you are manipulating the situation, at least slightly. You slam on your brakes too late, turn into another vehicle in your blind spot... But to go from complete control to none whatsoever, was shocking.

After sliding into the ditch, I sat in the car for quite a while, just finding my land legs again. My first thought was "Oh my god, I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay." My next thought was "There's no way I'm driving the car out of this ditch." My next thought was "DAMN IT, I can't go shopping!" No, really.

I wasn't sure if I should turn off the car, but then decided I would, just in case it might explode. To clarify and defend this thought, a few months ago, two drunk exchange students crashed into a telephone pole a few streets from our house, and the car ignited in flames and they both died in the car. Of course, this popped into my head - so I turned off the car, shakily got out my insurance card, and called for roadside assistance. I sat in the cold, waiting. One car after another stopped to see if I was okay - so many, in fact, that I started ducking down so people didn't see me sitting in it. Once Ryan arrived and helped me out of the car, the first thing I noticed was a thick mist/fog in the headlights. It was everywhere. And the road was a sheet of ice - there were no clean spots that I could find in my short search. The tow truck guy finally came and unstuck the car - it came out with an ear-splitting scrape on the pavement edge. We all went home, feeling blessed, however unfortunately so.

Redos aren't always possible. But time is an excellent teacher. And I've been careful on the roads during the cool mornings since. I may not be able to erase my accident, but I surely can learn from it.

As for my resolutions, I just have a few:

Be active. Because I can.
 
Be still. Let the periphery go on without me for a while.

Consume less.See aforementioned shopping addiction.

Produce more. Write. Build. Bake. Grow. Get my hands dirty. Tell a story.

Create. Recreate. Create anew.

Happy New Year!

Burn Out

I am burnt out, consumed by the immediate present. Lack of oxygen. Poof.

This sounds awfully dramatic, but it isn't really. It just takes a few days of just focusing on the bare necessities, and then I can light the match again to continue with the crazy that is our reality. Most days, I'll move through my motions like fire, unchanging, rolling over the little hills life naturally has. My mind and body burn fast and hot through those days, tackling a million things - right hand wiping a peanut butter and jelly face, left hand pouring water into a cup, one ear listening to the demands of my children, the other ear pressed to a cell phone, shirt sleeves tugged, brain finding order within a hurricane. Other days, it takes a small army to pull me out of my dark tent of lethargy, where every small task is the biggest burden. You know, days where you don't even want to put the new roll of toilet paper on the bar, because it's just one more thing you have to do.

The last few days have been like that - heavy. I can't find any motivation from the inside. Lucky for me, I've got two small people who provide plenty of external motivation. They need me, and I love that. This morning, I felt much better. Insert cheesy phoenix metaphor. But really, I do cycle like this. Fire, ashes, flight, fire, ashes, flight. The flight part of this sequence has been particularly long, but I can't sustain it forever without some kind of retreat and recovery. I've always been like this.

I'm sure it has something to do with my obsessive personality. I used to relish being consumed by something, caught in a tsunami of slow focus. But now I simply don't have the time for slow anything. The result is my intensity is scattered into a thousand bright pinpoints, and it's difficult for me to collect them all into one contained beam. I'm not a multi-tasker by nature. I'd much rather be submersed into one  activity at a time.

Don't get me wrong, I definitely have my hobbies. Too many hobbies. Writing, for example. But they are squeezed into the only spaces where they can survive. And in my case, sacrifices are made. Sleep. Well-rounded meals. A clean kitchen. Sleep. I'm terrible at time management, clearly. I need more time. There's too much I want to do. But not all at once, please.

This little person keeps me so busy. She and Kaden are my main hobbies now.

My little lady's favorite hobby lately... We dug out our old digital camera, and she's been having a heyday.

Just a quick note to document - Anika's is growing leaps and bounds, just in the past few weeks. Today she sat at the island barstool for probably an hour, painting and drawing. She even wrote four letters out in her notebook: A, U, O, and H. And we've never ever tried to do letters, at all. As I was doing the dishes, I heard her say "Mommy, I did a A!" So I looked over and, sure enough, there was an A. And she proceeded to write *two* more As as I watched her! If she's interested in writing, I'll foster this learning, absolutely. I'm proud of her!

Shootin' rockets!

I swear, I'm going to start putting her in brown, grey, or black pants only.
At preschool, she'll slide down the slide in any weather... We're investing in Oxiclean.

Rockets on the roof, of course. They cohabitate with frisbees and whiffle balls.

It started to rain...

I don't have any photos of Kaden - he's been too busy walking all over the place, and I've been staying close to him to catch any serious falls. I'll upload a video soon, with a post all his own, as is deserving of his huge milestone!

Back to the flight. 

Welcome Autumn!

I haven't updated my blog in five months. True story.

So, it's October - the month after my favorite month of the year, which is September. But October is a close second, followed by May coming in third. I love the changing of the seasons, and fall is my favorite of them all. October is the harbinger of the holidays. I can already feel the buzz in the air, most of which is emanating from my three year old. Anika cannot stop talking about Halloween. Well, her excitement is contagious, so we dug out the decorations a few weeks ago and bedazzled our house with leaves, pumpkins, acorns, ghosts, and black cats. There are little harvest vignettes everywhere I look. I love it.

Summer arrived so late here. And even though Anika is embracing the upcoming holidays, I'm sure she'll miss the easy warmth of summer, she just doesn't know it yet. Most of my friends are mourning the loss of summer. But I have to admit I'm thrilled that the rain and fog are back. Rain falling, especially a downpour, is so soothing to me. It's melancholy and comfort and happiness all rolled into one. I like that concoction. Maybe Anika is just in denial, as she went on a tricycle ride today in the pouring rain - wearing just her shoes, a raincoat, and underwear. She came back some time later, with the exclamation, "Whew! It's wet out there!". Indeed.

I feel as if I am slowly morphing into a stereotypical soccer mom, buzzing from one activity to another. Anika started preschool at Philomath Montessori last month, and we have also continued with her twice weekly swimming lessons. Between running errands, housekeeping, doctor appointments, playdates, Montessori meetings, and travel time for everything, my days have quickly moved from dull and stagnant to vibrant and ever-changing. I'm a mom, and by definition, I am a busy mom. I love this too.

First day of school. Hesitant...

But excited!

The first day of school went splendidly. Second day, stomach flu... I suppose I should just get used to this, right?

I found a pair of swim goggles at Goodwill today, and Anika is thrilled. Do you remember the first time you wore goggles or a mask and stuck your head under the water, opened your eyes, and could see UNDER THE WATER?! Didn't you think you were the bomb diggity? I know I did. I have no doubt the googles will be making multiple appearances at bath time as well. Here's Anika right after I gave them to her.

This is a fair representation of what she would wear most days if she could. Necklace and flowy ballet leotard - yup, I'm ready to go to school/grandma's/the store/bed. Pumpkin, go put a coat and some pants on...

Other memorable events in the past weeks (er months):

Kaden is learning how to walk! He hasn't quite mastered the full on around-the-house-by-myself walk, but he regularly will let go and stand unassisted, and he'll walk between things or people, if they are close enough for his comfort level. He's growing up...

In other news, this big ass bug was on my doorstep the other day. Holy crap, he was big. And he had wings. WINGS people. That means there is potential for this bug to fly at my FACE. I am using the past tense because unfortunately Mr. McHugebeetle is no longer with us. I won't go into details, but I'm sure there was some cleanup involved. Here's a photo of him next to my lens cap for scale.

This photo doesn't even do his massiveness justice, as it's at a downward slendering angle. But believe me when I say, he could have eaten your face off.

Living out in the "country" isn't all just peace, quiet, and dust. There's been some pretty interesting specimens that have crossed my path recently. Some have been quite lovely...

Okay, this wasn't actually at *my* house, but it was near it, so that counts right?

And then you've got things like Alligators Lizards slithering over your almost bare feet. And praying mantises, which don't eat your face off, but just look like they want to. Or this fellow:

I can see it's eyes. EYES. That freaks me out, people.

Anyway...

To celebrate summer's last hurrah, I took the kids to Tillamook a few weeks ago - all by myself! O_o And it was crazy. And loads of fun. The highlight of the trip, besides our stop at the aquarium in Newport, was simply the beach itself. Once we got there after our long drive, the kids were ecstatic.

Not sure what the black thing in the photo is, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't native.

The kids had a blast and were very good about sharing their beach toys. Kaden loved feeling the sand between his fingers, but wasn't too fond of how it tasted... :)

Doesn't the beach look so serene and quiet? Well....

... it wasn't. Wait, we are in Tillamook, Oregon, right? Not Hawaii? Or Long Island? Because... what the heck?! It's a foggy, moderately warm, late summer day in Tillamook. And the beach is ridiculously crowded. I've never, ever seen the coast like this. It was strange, and kind of cool and exotic all at once. But really, umbrellas? 

This is more like the Oregon coast I know:

Or this:

Or this:

My wonderful husband planned a surprise anniversary (12 years!) weekend getaway in Yachats, and it couldn't have come at a better time. Raising two small children is perpetually exhausting and most days I feel like I'm running to stand still. But just that one short night away recharged me for a good month plus. 

We:

hiked

drank lots of wine

mused about our lives, our children, and plans for the future

sat on the balcony and listened to the waves crashing

ate food like this:

We left our window open and I fell asleep that night listening to the ocean. And it was the first thing I heard when I woke up. It was magical.

And a few extra photos, just because I like them.

Kitchen Helper #1
Side note: Magic Erasers really are magic. If you've never used them, get thee to a grocery store straight away.

Kitchen Helper #2

She's turning into quite the little baker. Yay!

Enjoying the blackberry harvest

Captain Black(berry)beard

Last day at Otter Beach

And lest I forget the Great Oatmeal Explosion of 2011...

So long Summer... welcome Autumn!

Falling Softly

We have had a lovely past few weeks, starting with Mother's Day weekend. What is Mother's Day weekend without plants and flowers? I wanted to put together some arrangements from my mom and mother-in-law, so we headed to our favorite off-the-beaten-path nursery - Gindhart's. 

You have to search a little for what you want, but the prices are great and the selection is decent. Anika had a great time picking out flowers. If she had her way she would have bought him out, I'm sure! She wanted to buy every single flowering plant there. We turned out heads for one minute, and she had our cart loaded to the brim!

It was also a struggle to keep her from dead-heading (alive-heading?) the flowers as we walked through the aisles. Hopefully, Mr. Gindhart didn't notice...

There was one downfall (ha ha) about the trip. While attempting to look more closely at a climbing fuchsia, I slipped on some of the mossy tarp and fell to the ground with Kaden in the Ergo! He almost hit his head on the cement walkway, just almost. It scared the beejeebuz out of him nonetheless, and me too. I actually screamed as I went down, and Ryan came running from another greenhouse. We were fine, just muddy. :) 

We (and by we I mean Ryan) also did a little bit of chainsawing. One of the old oak trees at Ryan's parents' place was dying and needed to be chopped down. Of course, Ryan jumps at any chance to use a chainsaw...

Anika watched excitedly from the window. She really wanted to come out - notice glass ripples on window.

It was a perfect fell. The oak went down between all the trees with nary a sound, just a slight swoosh as a few branches bent and broke.

Some other moments from last week...

Finger painting is almost a daily activity 'round here. We have a Anika-level cabinet where all the crafts are kept. She constantly brings me the paints, one by one, demanding to "ingerpain". 

In between raindrops, Ryan's been using his tractor any chance he can get, with Anika eager to help. 

We got to see Auntie Trina and Trese this past weekend too! It's always fun to see them. We are slackers and don't come up to Seaside to visit them often enough (read: never). We've been planning the trip up there for months, but haven't done it yet - soon!

They brought their adult size scooter - it was awesome! 

On a personal note, Kaden is officially weaned. I was hoping, like that old oak tree, to fall lightly... But it's been emotional and difficult for me. From the beginning, the experience hadn't been easy. He started out like Anika did, unable to bring in my milk fast enough due to his inefficient suck. Anika's inability was due to tongue-tie, but Kaden's was due to simply being born so abruptly and early - and having the mellowest come-what-may personality ever. I've thus spent many, many, many hours tethered to a pump. After feedings, before feedings, replacing feedings... And many, many hours nursing, with success and some failure. From 6 months until 9 months, I pumped after almost every single feed - exclusively pumping and breastfeeding at the same time, wasting my days away on the couch...

I know nursing isn't easy for anyone who does it, at least not at first. I definitely don't want to diminish that fact. I just want to document for myself that I tried hard to make it work. Hit with a slough of hindrances this last month - his first four teeth coming in (with four more closely following), a month long household bout of the cold and the flu, clogged ducts in both breasts, a loud-by-nature toddler, and a baby who would rather be doing anything but nursing - we are done.  

Weaning these past few weeks has been very emotional for me. Every other day, I changed my mind. I thought "I can do this, I shouldn't quit. I'll just slap on the pump and increase my milk supply. I'll just find better ways of keeping Anika occupied quietly while I nurse." I read online that nursing in a dark, quiet room is helpful for a distractible baby. Does anyone else see the irony in this advice? Um, I have an almost three-year-old. No place is dark and quiet in this house until 10 pm.

I wanted it to be easy. I wanted to land quietly. But then I think about it too hard, and tears fill my eyes. It was the physical root of Kaden's and my relationship, truly. It's the essential - food and shelter. It's been emotional to let it go and release myself from it, physically and mentally. With the exception of four months in 2010, in the latter half of Kaden's pregnancy, I've been nursing since 2008. It's played such a role in my life that I'm finding it hard to focus on what's I'm gaining, rather than what I'm losing. 

Perspective... perspective... perspective... balance.

I'm gaining: fully caffeinated cups of coffee, more than the occasional glass of wine or beer, peppermint tea, underwire bras, my body back, Ryan helping with feeds, freedom to spend extended time away

I'm losing: quiet alone time with Kaden, lingering snuggle sessions

I know there are huge positives in this change. We're all growing up, changing. But I'm still going to hold on to our last time together - Kaden eager and drowsy before his nap, rocking, eyes closed with dapples of afternoon sunlight through the blinds and on our faces, the fan softly humming, quiet bodies close and warm... I'm hanging onto that moment forever.