Rose City Yarn Crawl 2015: My Bag Overfloweth

Now that I've told you all about it, what did I buy? (Answer: probably too much, but what's a fiber-lovin' girl to do?) I did try to keep to the parameters of locally made, hard to find, or interesting fibers. The two zauberballs are really the only exceptions, but I'd never purchased one before so I'm calling it good.

I was super excited to finally meet 'The Spinsters' behind Spincycle Yarns at For Yarn's Sake in Beaverton on Saturday afternoon. I've been stalking following their instagram since I participated in the Pine Bough KAL and just love their yarn, colors and process. Those three skeins of Knit Fast Die Young are slated for a macro lace shawl, but I may find something else I love more between now and then. The two skeins of Dyed in the Wool in the colorway July, July won out over Salty Dog only because it's my birthday month. They'll be paired with some Pepperberry to make the Dynastid cowl...I don't love bugs, but for whatever reason, this beetle-laden cowl is asking to be made.

Yarntastic in Sellwood was our other Friday night stop, and I picked up This cushy single ply by Abstract Fiber in the colorway Lichen, and a skein of sock yarn by Nerd Girl in the colorway Grimm. Fun Portland connections all around.

 This loop pouch, hand-made by Portlander Queen Bee, is a heavy duty canvas project bag. Along with some Blissfull Knits sock yarn in the color way Chamber of Secrets (50/50 silk and wool, and so luscious) and a Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks that Rock in the colorway Saturday Market-I left Twisted a happy girl.

 Pearl Fiber Arts located in, you guessed it, The Pearl was hosting a couple of local artists so it was really fun to chat with them about their process. This coral gradient kit by Thoroughly Thwacked will look beautiful knit up into the shell-patterned cowl feautured in their front window. Alexandra of Alexandra's Crafts was there and I had a great time talking with her about her color process. This sock yarn is Black Butte in Stained Glass, but she also has a line called La Grande, which was a fun connection to my hometown. I love that they really are targeting tourists and people who want to knit something with yarn made by a local artisan. Their inventory was very heavy with Northwest yarns.

Close Knit on NE Alberta was a cute shop, and I picked up the yarn to go with the Yarn Crawl pattern for that store. Extra, by Blue Sky Alpaca will make the fun, striped Kumori Cowl.

In Multnomah Village, we went to Northwest Wools and I picked up these two skeins of Autumn Winds by lotus yarns in a pretty purple and grey to make this sweet dress for baby Stella. She was a fairly good traveler...for a three month old.

Black Trillium fibers were featured in a trunk show at Knitting Bee in outer SW Portland (Washington County) and it is just beautiful! That skein of charcoal grey laceweight was a whopping 1450 yards-enough to make a shawl with just one skein. And a Crazy Zauberball for good measure. With the Trillium, I'm planning on a color block or striped shawl using the two different weights (fingering and lace). There are tons of patterns online for the zauberball, so I'll tackle that when I get there.

 

At Dublin Bay in the Pearl, I found Hedgehog Fibers Sock Yarn and Solstice Camel-Silk blend. See that beautiful golden halo? Camel. And it's so soft. Some 'Wool Fat' soap and dpn's rounded out that stop.

 At Happy Knits, I saw two bags I'd been looking at online for awhile, so it was time... Fringe Supply Co. and Knit Picks are the sources online but it was nice to see them in person first.

My stop at Knit Purl on Friday night yielded this bright pink lace-weight (looks more red in the photo) skein of 100% silk.  It was definitely the most special (some might say expensive, but that's just a word, really...) yarn I purchased. The colorway is Torchere. Because giving it a fancy french name makes you feel less guilty about the cost. I love the trend toward neon colors. This Merino Light hand-dyed is Madeline Tosh's 'Edison Bulb'.

Have you ever participated in the Yarn Crawl? What were some of your most treasured finds? How did you strategize? Any regrets? (I have none) I did make myself completely address and organize my stash before heading out, but that's for another post.

Rose City Yarn Crawl 2015

Last year, I happened to have a trip scheduled in Portland for the same weekend as the Rose City Yarn Crawl. I had never heard of it before, and didn't end up having time to go into any stores other than a quick step into Knit Purl (still one of my favorites after this trip).

This year, shortly after Stella was born, I looked up this year's dates and realized that it coincided with a weekend that J was scheduled to be off, save one night. Huzzah! A quick text to my partner in crime, plus a plea to my mother to fill the gap of evening childcare, and we were slated to attend the weekend-long event with her best friend.

The yarn crawl consists of fifteen local yarn stores that apply to be included, with a passport to be stamped and a free pattern with purchase at each stop. There is a mystery knitalong that precedes the event (spoiler alert: It was kind of granny and neither of us completed it) and each shop has their own huge prize basket to be entered for and there is a grand prize for one lucky crawler that visits all fifteen shops.  I think that with an extra full day for shopping and one less infant, we'll be able to hit all fifteen next year, but this year I was happy to get to the ones we did.

Of the fifteen, we went to Twisted, For Yarn's Sake, Yarntastic! Fiber Arts, Pearl Fiber Arts, Close Knit, Northwest Wools, Knitting Bee, Dublin Bay, Happy Knits, Knit Purl, The Black Sheep and Yarnia.  All but Yarnia and The Black Sheep resulted in my yarn crawl bag getting fuller and my wallet a little lighter.

An obvious joy of the trip was to be able to touch and see, and swoon over, all the beautiful yarns but what was really fun was seeing how differently the shops were set up. Learning what aesthetics I really like and how it makes the most sense to set up a shop, what brands would be awesome to carry, what ones missed the mark, the list goes on. It was a great trip to help solidify our hopes for a future yarn store, and to narrow down our vision.

Starting on Friday afternoon when we rolled into town, we visited Knit Purl which was just a few blocks from our hotel, and then grabbed some dinner at Tasty 'n Alder before picking up her friend and her infant son and heading to Yarntastic!, her friend's most visited local store. Both resulted in fun purchases and a great start to our crawl. Miss Stella was proving to be a somewhat unhappy participant and we headed back to the hotel for what would prove to be her first time sleeping through the night.

Saturday morning we grabbed breakfast in the hotel restaurant in time to hit Knit Purl (her friend hadn't been yet for the crawl) when it opened at nine. Except that it didn't open until ten. So we walked toward the Pearl and the next store on our agenda for the day, which also opened at ten. By the time we got to the furthest store, Dublin Bay, it was just opening. I really liked the layout of the shop, including a semi-secluded area with cushy seating for knitters, a fireplace and a TV queued up with Downton Abbey. Next we went to Pearl Fiber Arts, where there were two trunk shows (Thoroughly Thwacked of Hillsboro and Alexandra's Crafts out of Silverton) and they also had a pretty big supply of this huge (with a huge pricetag) yarn used to make rugs, poufs and squishy throws.

By the time we were headed back to Knit Purl, we decided to make our scheduled stop at Blue Star Donuts, where I indulged in a Lemon Poppyseed Buttermilk Donut. So delicious. A stop at Starbucks where there was available seating to feed and change the babes and we were off to Knit Purl at last. I ogled the Woolfolk and Pepperberry displays once more and we were off to the West side stores.

I love KnitPurl's clean, crisp displays and signage

Knitting Bee, located in outer Northwest Portland on Barnes Road proved to be a really pleasant surprise. With great signage, a trunk show for Black Trillium Fibers and excellent staff, I had a great time in the store. Next we headed to Hillsboro to visit The Black Sheep. It's kind of a tricky location in the lower level of a three story townhouse and I ended up nursing Stella who was fairly inconsolable instead of looking at the yarn. I can't say that I really missed anything and don't know that I'd go back but that could totally be due to the crying baby and lack of time to look around.

It was late afternoon by then and we were all fading fast, so we grabbed a late lunch/dinner before going to For Yarn's Sake in Beaverton, which I had been particularly look forward to because the Spinsters of Spincycle yarns were holding a trunk show there. I was not disappointed-they're just as nice and passionate about their product as I hoped they'd be. I was so excited to meet them that I didn't get a photo. That store definitely got the lion's share of my yarn dollars. They had a really big selection, the trunk show was huge and their staff was super friendly.

After that we headed back toward Portland and Northwest Wools in Multnomah Village. It was a fairly small store but, again, the staff was enthusiastic about their product and knowledgeable. For the last stop of the night, we headed to Yarnia, which is a really cool concept that could be a fun part of a bigger yarn shop, but I left feeling pretty meh. The idea is that they have large cones of different fibers and colors that you can custom mix to make your own multi-strand yarn and pay by the ounce or pound. It was fairly empty with only one other set of crawlers yet no employees came to talk to me, our stop there was in the early evening and the lighting was terrible-almost bar lighting so you couldn't see what the true colors would be, and the employee that did chat with my friend didn't seem to have a lot of information about where the fibers came from. Because it's just multiple strands together, not a stranded yarn that's then worsted, it would be nearly impossible to crochet and pick up all the strands, and hard for knitting.

awesome concept, not my favorite execution

Back to the hotel to put a finally sleeping Stella to bed, a chance to admire our haul so far, room service late dinner and then to bed ourselves.

I got to breakfast with old friends the next morning, my bestie even brought her kids who I didn't get to see last time I visited, and then I met back with my fellow crawlers for a final day of shopping at two more stores; Happy Knits on SE Hawthorne and Close Knit in Northeast Portland. Happy Knits was one of my favorite stops with a really great selection, happy staff and a couch in the back that proved perfect for a stop to feed Stella (again, some more). We ended on Alberta at Close Knit where I picked up the yarn for their crawl pattern submission and then lunch at Bunk for a cuban sandwich before the final reward of my first visit to Salt & Straw (Lumberjack Stack and Honey Lavendar in a waffle cone, thanks for asking!)

Then it was back to reality, and the babe slept almost the entire way home after crying as if her seat were made of flames during the actual crawl. A good time was had by all, and I'm already thinking about next year...after I use the yarn I purchased this year, of course. It was so nice to get home and have the kids excited to see me. A weekend away always gives me the chance to appreciate my family a little more because it's too easy to get bogged down in the everyday.

Wondering what goodies I got? That post is coming at you at 6am tomorrow!

Mile High Club

I'm sure you've all been waiting with baited breath, but I think it's taken this long for me to think about the second half of the flight to Aruba as anything bordering on amusing. Because we lived across the country from our friends and family for so long, my kids have flown a lot. I feel like I'm a fairly seasoned mama flyer to date, so I've got a pretty good system in place. I knew what to pack, what wasn't necessary, and kind of what to expect from my kiddos.

Since we planned to stay at the hotel for the duration of the trip, we decided to forego lugging the carseats around the airport and just see how wonderful our little cherub could perform in only the confines of the seatbelt. Could they make those things any easier to unlatch? Sure, it's great if you're in a plane crash, but when you're trying to contain a three year-old? Not so much.

After driving four hours to Portland, we had dinner with the fam, bathed the kids there and put them in jammies in preparation for our first leg, which was a red eye to JFK. The check-in process could seriously have not gone any more smoothly, and before I knew it we were settled on the plan and both kids had fallen asleep-a state in which they remained for the duration of the flight. I'm not a stupid person, but it honestly hadn't dawned on me that when we landed at JFK at 6am, it would really only be 3am. I gathered a sleeping C in the sling and started to carry him through the airport. Of course he didn't stay asleep. We had a very tight connection and had just enough time to squirt some Stonyfield yogurt tubes down their throats and take a quick trip to the potty before they were boarding our second flight. And that's where it all went downhill.

Being awoken in the middle of the night isn't much fun for anyone, but it's aparrently really not fun for Charlie, and he wasn't afraid to let us know. For the next five hours, J and I alternated between sitting next to H, who was strangely and almost concerningly content for the entire 5.5 hour flight, and sitting next to a child who I was sure at any moment would spin his head around and vomit all over everyone. If you've met Charlie in real life, you'd know he is not a quiet child. Between trying to physically retrain him from climbing all over the seats, quiet him as he screamed in proportion to my growing frustration, and nursing my split lip that was the result of him head butting me-I finally just had to let some tears roll down the ole cheeks and pray for this part of the trip to be over.

Crazily, we didn't get the stink eye from anyone and when we landed, Charlie magically turned into Sir Charming, and had the couples in front and behind of us laughing. I was not joining them. I am a grudge holder, and he wasn't my favorite person just then.

We made it down the concourse in one piece and proceeded to customs. Trying to keep the kids still after sitting for almost 12 hours was super fun, and my shining moment was when I looked over at the adjacent (empty) cubicle to see Charlie standing in a customs officer's chair, getting ready to tap on the computer keys. They were not amused. Luckily, we were still allowed in the country.

We exited into the humid air and glorious sunshine just as a taxi pulled up to the curb, and I could feel my tension lift. As we pulled up to the hotel, our bags were collected and held to the side while we went inside to see if, please God yes, our room was ready for early check-in.

We were arriving several hours before my sister and her family, and she'd told us that they should have the room ready for early check-in, but if not it wouldn't be long...she lied.

As my feral children ran circles around me on the slick marble tile, I waited patiently while they explained that our room wasn't ready, but it should be in about an hour. We decided to sit and have some lunch, where J and I sucked down frozen concoctions laced with alcohol and the kids enjoyed a virgin version of the same. When we walked back to the lobby, we were notified that our room wasn't quite ready yet and we had to go through several people in order to access our bags, because we figured we could at least spend the extra time in the pool, instead of crying a river of self-pitying and pathetic tears. Being tired is not pretty on me.

J is usually a very practical person, but he stood rifling through his bags in his flannel shirt which was by now soaked with sweat. Flannel is very practicaly for the Pacific Northwest, but not so much when you know when you're flying to the Carribbean.

Blissfully ensconsed in the pool, we immediately forgot that we'd been sticking to our clothing just moments before, and almost forgot that our kids had been acting like total jerks. I kept trying to remind myself; You're in paradise. Stop being a baby. But really, all I wanted to do was lay down in a bed and sleep. I checked back at the front desk an hour later and was told that our room would now not be ready until after the actual check-in time. Seriously? Did Metallica stay in our room and trash it?

Not happening. This is when it came in handy that someone had witnessed my stellar parenting, because another hotel employee came over and asked if I hadn't been in there with the two little boys. Yes, yes that was me. We've come from the west coast, we're exhausted and I'm trying to be nice, but I'm really tired.

With a couple clicks of the keyboard, we were moved one room over to a clean room with everything else the same and I went to collect my children...I really just wanted to go up to the room by myself, but I'm pretty sure J would have divorced me.

Showered and changed into island appropriate attire, we settled the kiddos down for a nap, and I promptly fell into a coma next to them. I awoke a few hours later to the sounds of my sister and her family arriving, along with delivered pizza. It wasn't even good pizza, but I didn't realize how hungry I'd been until I started eating. Sherrific and I then caught a cab and went grocery shopping for our week. The next morning, it was as if the flight had never happened. We were all extremely well-rested and ready to face the biggest decision of our trip; beach or pool, pool or beach? Don't worry, we did both.

It was blissful. Perfect temperatures, wonderful water, and spending time with my sister which is a rarity now that she's decided that she's a mid-westerner at heart for seven whole days. Henry loved being in the water and Charlie had a ball with his cousin, who was equally as wary of that liquid stuff that kept encroaching on their personal space. Yep, they were the edge clingers.

The only blip came when Charlie threw the biggest tantrum of his life on our next to last day. Sheer exhaustion caused him to bust out his only curse word, buttface, which he used approximately 700 times in a three minute period, mimicing a fantastic tourrettes episode. He was spitting, screaming, yelling, kicking and biting me for almost thirty minutes before I finally 'swaddled' him in a beach towel and rocked him to sleep. It was a tantrum of epic proportions and I couldn't help being a little impressed by his stick to-it attitude. The kid is nothing if not willful. I kept waiting for the knock on the door from a security guard saying they'd heard a child being abuse in the next room, but it never came, I stayed calm and all's well that ends well. He awoke three hours later with no memory of his terrible behavior. Which I guess is good?

Too soon, we were pakcing our bags again and I was terrified that we'd have an encore performance of the previous flight, but alas-they were exhaused in the best way. Seven days of sand, sun and water had created the zen they needed to be angels. I'm not being sarcastic. Henry was in heaven since the only kid show playing on the TV was Sponge Bob, so he finally got to partake in the wonder of the little creature who lives in a pineapple under the sea-and Charlie was content to play with stickers. We arrived in Portland tanned and happy, settled into our hotel and drove home the next day just in time for H to attend his class Christmas party.

Both J and I agreed that, beautiful as it was, it'd be a long time before we fly that far for a beach again. Hawaii's just a short flight away, and we've yet to explore Mexico...lots of beautiful beach vacations await!

Oregon Coast Cupcakes

It's 10:54pm and I'm sitting at the breakfast bar typing and watching Dexter.  Now that I've called it that, I'm realizing that we never actually eat breakfast at it because it's too high and always covered in superfluous mail, a pile of books and whatever knitting project bag I've got going in addition to my laptop. But, back to the task at hand. Why am I perched on a barstool when I should be sleeping so that I can get more than four hours of sleep before my sweet little children awake pre-5am? Because I'm waiting for the last batch of cupcakes to come out of the oven so I can then wait for them to cool enough to take them out of the pan.

In the morning we're packing up the party barge and heading to the coast for a weekend of fun with my husband's family, and to celebrate the huge honor of our uncle being installed as the Commander of the Oregon VFW. Since so much of the family was able to make it, it's also morphed into a reunion of sorts with a huge bbq on Sunday afternoon, and the celebration of summer birthdays.

I love to make cupcakes. This weekend, I'm making two of my favorites; Magnolia's Vanilla Vanilla and a Chocolate Stout Cupcake that I made for Jared's birthday last year. The thing I love about family get together's is the time spent just chatting and relaxing; basking in the company of each other. I'm sure with the amount of people staying in the beach house, there will be at least one incident of hilarity and awkward tension, but that's part of the fun, right? Right?

In hopes of enjoying as much open time as possible, I decided to bake the large batch of chocolate cupcakes tonight and take them along.  On Sunday morning, I'll inject them with whipped cream (my first attempt, so I may only do it with a few) and ice them with a simple ganache. Basically, they'll be sophisticated ding dongs. Yum!

If you need a no-fail chocolate cake that's sure to wow (and gets better with each day as the flavors mellow) this is the one. With over four hundred reviews on epicurious, you're also bound to get a ton of great tips. It does make over 4 dozen cupcakes (I discarded the extra, as I didn't want more than 48 cupcakes!) so you can easily cut the recipe in half and have plenty. A quick tip for filling cupcake tins without a lot of mess is to fill a gallon sized freezer bag and snip the corner (or large pastry bag) and pipe it into the paper cups.

Neither of these cupcake recipes would be classified as 'healthy', but I did use fat-free greek yogurt instead of sour cream in the chocolate, so...

Chocolate Stout Cake By Barrington Brewery

Cake

• 2 cups stout (such as Guinness)
• 2 cups (4 sticks) unsalted butter
• 1 1/2 cups unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably Dutch-process)

• 4 cups all purpose flour
• 4 cups sugar
• 1 tablespoon baking soda
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
• 4 large eggs
• 1 1/3 cups sour cream

Icing

• 2 cups whipping cream
• 1 pound bittersweet (not unsweetened) or semisweet chocolate, chopped

For cake:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter three 8-inch round cake pans with 2-inch-high sides. Line with parchment paper. Butter paper. Bring 2 cups stout and 2 cups butter to simmer in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add cocoa powder and whisk until mixture is smooth. Cool slightly.

Whisk flour, sugar, baking soda, and 1 1/2 teaspoons salt in large bowl to blend. Using electric mixer, beat eggs and sour cream in another large bowl to blend. Add stout-chocolate mixture to egg mixture and beat just to combine. Add flour mixture and beat briefly on slow speed. Using rubber spatula, fold batter until completely combined. Divide batter equally among prepared pans. Bake cakes until tester inserted into center of cakes comes out clean, about 35 minutes. Transfer cakes to rack; cool 10 minutes. Turn cakes out onto rack and cool completely. (I made four dozen cupcakes, baked for 18 minutes).

For icing:
Bring cream to simmer in heavy medium saucepan. Remove from heat. Add chopped chocolate and whisk until melted and smooth. Refrigerate until icing is spreadable, stirring frequently, about 2 hours.

Place 1 cake layer on plate. Spread 2/3 cup icing over. Top with second cake layer. Spread 2/3 cup icing over. Top with third cake layer. Spread remaining icing over top and sides of cake.

Whew! It's been a crazy few weeks. I'm fully into the swing of marathon training now, and am starting to feel confident and, dare I say, excited about completing a full in June. You can read all about my progress over at My Sole Sister. It's Superbowl Sunday, which means I'll be rewarding myself post-run today with pizza or some other ridiculously high calorie grease-fest. Go Packers!

On the knitting front, I've made significant progress on Tree of Life, with just one row of trees left to complete, then the border and I'm done. I went to 'the' mall for the first time since we moved here yesterday, and was pleasantly surprised that I'm able to fit in shirts two sizes smaller than before. I love that the scale isn't the only way to measure change.

In planning out my month, I'm realizing that this is the only weekend I don't have something on deck. Between running, birthdays, guests coming to town and just plain life happening, I'm booked almost solid until the weekend of the marathon and H's last week of school.

Which brings me to a couple of conclusions I've come to in my life. I'm ready to admit that I need help keeping my house clean. I'm not talking about someone to do my laundry or the dishes, or even making beds and vacuuming. But hells yes, I am talking about someone else to scrub my tubs, the stovetop and the inside of my microwave. Not to mention dusting and even washing the windows. H is starting swimming lessons this week and I know that life will only continue to get more hectic.

Speaking of throwing money at your problems: J and I decided this summer that we wouldn't put anything on our card we couldn't pay off the following month. We just want to have it in use, but won't be carrying a balance. So far, so good. All of our home projects have been paid for from our account so far, with only deposits for vacation rentals put on the card, and I feel really good about it. The down-side is that the house is coming together slowly, the upside being that I'm able to live in it and see how I really want it to be before making any rash decisions.

The next project I'm ready to tackle is tiling the bath surround in the master (good-bye wet walls everytime I let the kids bathe in my tub) and the backsplash in the kitchen. Keeping in mind this isn't our forever home, I've decided to stick with the simple tumbled tile that we already have, but in a rectangular shape in a subway pattern. For the bathroom, I'm taking it up to the windowsill...will that make it look too boxed in? Yes, I'm really asking for your opinion.

In addition to not accumulating new debt, we're committed to having zero debt when we purchase our next house (in about 5 years), excluding our mortgage, but including student loan debt. Anyone with experience with aggressive debt reduction while still having some luxuries and fun is welcome to leave a comment with a program you followed or things that you found worked for you.

I watched Oprah's special on happiness and it cemented my desire to give my kids experiences over giving them things. Did you know that the income at which happiness is no longer increased caps out at $75,000 a year? That was surprising to me. Additionally, joining a club in which you are expected to attend once a month increases your happiness the same amount that doubling your income would. It's all about feeling a connectedness to those around you, and having experiences rather than things.

So, of course, I immediately went online and bought the two pair of shoes (not on credit, mind you) I'd been coveting. What?! I'm not expected to experience everything with sub-par footwear am I? I know...all over the place with this one, but that's what happens when I go so long without posting.

Lastly, in exactly a month, I'll be having quite an experience as I celebrate my friend's 40th birthday with her at Kelea Surf Spa (paid in advance, thank you) on the North Shore of Oahu. This mama has worked long and hard and I feel like I deserve this break. Here's the thing, I hadn't even questioned that fact until people started looking at me in wonderment when they heard what I was doing, where I was going, and that my husband was okay with being left to fend for himself and the kids. Well, I guess my boss was right: You'll never have to worry about Wutzke getting her needs met. I do appreciate the support of a spouse who hasn't questioned my deserve level either. There, J, I said it.

Home Again, Home Again

I'm home from my whirlwind trip to the Right Coast where I got to see a ton of people (though there were still those I didn't get to connect with), drank a few too many cocktails, and got to shower our expecting friends in the picturesque town of Northampton.

Being back felt so surreal because it was almost as thought I'd never left. But then, I had. Driving through the tolls for the first time I was so lucky I actually had cash, as it was the first time in a long time I'd driven without a Fast Lane pass. Going to the Y to celebrate with my team, I accidentally drove right past and into the old apartment complex parking lot. Dunkin' Donuts was there to greet me en masse at the airport, and that brash accent wrapped around me like an old friend.

While it's good to be back in the Northwest, there is definitely a part of me that will always feel very comfortable in New England. My trip home was full of poor planning on my part, as my flight got in just after 8pm and I had to drive home the four-plus hours immediately, since J had to work the next morning at seven. By the time I dragged my sorry booty into my bed, I'd been up for almost 24-hours. My kids woke up the next morning at six to find the bag of munchkins I'd drug through the airport and crunched under the seat in front of me just so they'd have that little piece of familiarity in the place that still feels foreign to them.

Settled back in, I'm almost finished with the entrelac scarf, and also got an order for a set of five Java Jackets and am having fun with some new un-felted patterned ones. I ordered a couple kits through Knit Picks, so look for some fun pictures and a new etsy listing. I'm also in the process of purchasing the rights to make the Hannah and Josie newsboys for resale, so hope to crank a few more of those out before the holidays.

After spending several days trying to play catch-up on the cleaning I missed while I was gone, I put in a call to the local cleaning service so that I could get an estimate. A day after I got back, I hosted my dad and sister at my house as my sister was in town to have surgery. There was a thin dusting of grime everywhere I turned but I never caught my second wind to do more than de-fur the house and make sure dishes and laundry were done before they got here. Ah well, next time, right?

Aside from knitting, I still have two more stockings to make so we can have a matched set of four (well, five with Clifford's) to hang from our awesome sheet-rock mantle. Yes, our mantle is made of contoured sheet rock. At the top of our project list, behind tiling the backsplash and installing a banquette in the dining room is now 'make a real mantle, because having a mantle made of wall is weird.'

I'm also motivated to finally make the paper piecing baby quilt, a pattern for which I purchased last year. Because that's just how I roll. Actually, I can't feel too badly about it since safely in its bag upstairs, I still have the pattern book and all the fabric for the Underground Railroad quilt I purchased in Montana the very first time I went to meet my in-laws. Yes, that would be over a decade ago. I was also pouring over Amy Butler's In Stitches last night and looking at the fun throw pillows and cushions I could make for the as-yet-uninstalled, purchased or even decided on, banquette.

Today, I go to my first courtroom observation as part of my required in-court hours for the CASA program. I'm so excited to volunteer in a way that will involve me in the Child Welfare world without the same levels of stress and case management, and a fractional commitment of time. I'm nervous, though, about learning another juvenile court system. They all seem to be vastly different, from the lingo to the dress code.

And that's my little slice of life for now!

visited 29 states (58%)
Create your own visited map of The United States

This is kind of a fun activity, and a great visual of where you've been! All the red states are ones that I've been to, and the grey are ones that I've not. Looks like I've got some work to do if I plan to visit all 50! To make your own map, click here!

Somewhere In Middle America

I'm writing this post from Iowa, which means that we are checked out from our apartment, the Skybox has been loaded back on the car and packed to the gills. As always, my spatially-challenged self mis-judged the amount of room we'd have in order to include my little sister in the trip.

After about twenty hours of riding in the back seat with my kids in stereo on either side of her, she decided that she would rather pay the extra money to fly home and see her own children, rather than have mine being loud and boisterous in her ears. Overall, they've done great in the car, but by the time we were about ten miles out of Iowa City H was in tears asking if we were ever going to get there?! He said he'd 'rather go to Tyler's house' because it was closer...little did he know we were over 20 hours from Tyler's house.

We ordered the last of our appliances last night, and they're scheduled to be delivered the same day we get there (along with our walk-through and cable/internet installation...I sure hope we're not running late!)

Leaving was a lot harder than I expected. Three years is a long time to put down roots, make connections and create a life for yourself and your family. J didn't struggle as much as I because while he worked in Worcester, I lived there. My friends are all staying, and will be meeting for coffee club, beach playdates and mom's night outs, minus one Sally HP. J is within a cohort of people that are all moving to the next step.

And as we pulled out of town, tears pricking my eyelids, and feelings of gratitude washing over me for all the friends and support I'd had during my time of being a functionally single mother (thanks, M for coining that term) J pronounced; 'You're welcome, Worcester!'

Next stop, Fargo!

In Vino Veritas

I'm back from my whirlwind trip West to meet my new nephew, spend time with my dear friend and, oh yeah, see my new house for the first time!

Though the flights were long, and the drive to Walla Walla was another 4 hours, it was kid-free, so it was blissful. I read The Lost Code on the plane, because I'm a sucker for Dan Brown, and did about five minutes of work before I realized I'd get carpal tunnel typing on a laptop during a full flight-being that I'm just a little slip of a girl, my shoulders were not touching my neighbors' at all.

The baby? Gorgeous.

The house? Fantastic.

A weekend with my best friend, drinking wine and walking around my new home-town? More than much-needed.

We spent the first afternoon in Walla Walla registering H for Kindergarten (Welcome, Class of 2023!) and getting my initial tour of the house. Walking in for the first time, it still took awhile to have it sink in that the house was truly mine. High ceilings and an open floorplan with lots of windows left me imagining sun-soaked mornings sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee, listening to the kids play in the back-yard. Ah, the back-yard. Bigger than I'd imagined, with side-yards double that of most of our neighbors; raised bed gardens await me.

The next morning, we spent what was supposed to be several hours at the Flooring store, but ended up little more than two. Apparently my years of obsessively deciding what my 'style' would be certainly paid off in the decisive department. First things first, I found a beautiful hand-scraped bamboo with great variation in color that looked great with the trim sample from my cabinets. Then on to carpet for the bedrooms, vinyl for the bathrooms, tub surround tile, back-splashes and counters, oh my!

After a quick flip through the Parker paints color chart, I had my Knott interior paint selected, and we were off to lunch. But not before the sales-woman picked up on my longing glances at the planks of 'my' floor, wherein she offered to have her guy hack off a piece so I could take it with me in my suitcase...which I promise I don't tuck under my pillow at night.

Sample in hand, we arrived at my house once again to match exterior colors to the brick accents that are already in place. Bittersweet with Equator Trim and a Lava Cake door, and I'd say you can put a fork in this baby; it's done!

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering downtown and ended up in the tasting room for a local winery. I couldn't tell if the proprietor was just a little green or if he really loves hearing himself talk, either way we left with three bottles of Gewurztraminer (to our shock, we found it was not a sweet wine after he twisted our arms to try it amidst our protests of not liking to drink wine that tastes like corn syrup) signed by said proprietor in bronzey sparkle sharpie.

We watched most of the Boost Surf Sho on-line, then walked to Sweet Basil Pizzeria for dinner and then onto Colville St. Patisserie for coffee and dessert before heading home, pushing the clocks forward an hour and falling into sugar and wine-induced slumber.

The next morning, I turned back into a pumpkin and back to the airport we went. Friend farewelled and coffee purchased, I boarded the Southwest Airlines flight to Midway, opened my book and embraced the knowledge that I'll soon be calling Walla Walla home.

Falling All Over Myself

For one of our last nights away from the land of taxes, we stayed with our friends in Portland. In order to facilitate the evacuation of wiggles, we went to Out of This World Pizza so that the kids could run and run and run in the warehouse-sized playland and eat dinner in one fell swoop.

H and Charlie were having a magnificent time with the giant slides, swirly bumper carts and play houses. I wish we had something like this at home because in addition to being a great place to take the kiddos, the pizza was really good...not something old Chuck E. can claim. Plus the animatronic band is just plain creepy.

As we were eating, H quickly lost interest in his slice o' cheese, and ran off to play. After about twenty minutes, I realized I wasn't doing the best parental supervisory job and headed off to find him. Walking across the squishy mats in my trusty Dansko clogs, I spotted H in the plastic Little Tykes-style house as he was slamming a window. I quickened my pace so that I could remind him that 'We don't slam things' (aka, You don't slam things) and I failed to notice the sloped edging of the black mat.

The design of clogs have always kind of baffled me...they're much more narrow at the bottom than at the top, which is great if you like to break your ankle on every uneven surface. These things were seriously designed by a nation with cobble-stone streets?

Predictably, my ankle buckled to the side and my lithe frame went flying. 'Luckily' there was a plastic house to catch my fall. After slamming into the house and moving it a good six inches across the floor, the wall being it's stopping point, I glanced around to see that no other adults spotted my fall from grace. Sure enough, Mr. Cool Dad was snorting into his sleeve in order to at least attempt social nicety. Too late, I'd already seen it.

There was nothing to do but balance myself in a crouched position against the open window of the plastic house so that a) I could assess whether or not I'd broken my ankle b) I stopped laughing long enough to gain the strength to stand up again and c) I'd assured H and the other little boy inside that they'd not been the victims of an 'earth shake'.

Cackling like a crazed woman, I returned to the table to relate my tale, which was greeted by head-shakes and blank stares...because I still couldn't compose myself enough to get it all out in one breath.

Nothing like a little tumble to put you right back in your place.

All Good Things...

I'm sitting in the condo overlooking Pearl Harbor in disbelief that it's already my last full day in sunny O'ahu. We've packed so much fun into such a short period of time, yet still managed to have a day where we did absolutely nothing but lay by the pool at the Hale Koa and have frothy drinks delivered one after another. Nothing like a liquid lunch to make you enjoy the sunshine even more.

Squelching the guilt of having my parents get up with the kids super early every morning has been surprisingly easy, as I just have to think 'Would I rather be there or here at this moment?' Yeah, here.

We've balanced physical activity with tourist attractions and laziness, making me deliciously tired every night. Because of the time difference, waking up at 7-8am every morning has felt absolutely decadent. From sea kayaking in Kailua to hiking Diamond Head and Scuba diving and surfing in Waikiki, we came, we saw and, best of all, we learned a lot.

I learned that shorty wetsuits are actually very easy to get on, and very easy to look totally awesome pretty ridiculous in. That filling up your BCD is scuba diving is pretty uncomfortable when you're not used to the sensation, and it's probably best that you don't have plate lunch to burp on. That surfing is frickin' hard work (well, the whole paddling back out to the waves bit) but so much fun...and you don't give a second thought to sharks because you're working so hard. That the sound of your own breathing underwater is the most relaxing white noise ever. That your dive master making a talking motion to you and pointing right under you means you're going to land on an eel...but he'll jerk you up by your tank if you give him a blank stare. That no matter how long you stand at the ready with your camera, you won't capture the random sea turtle poking their head out of the surf...if you want a picture, they have to come out of the water.

That I have 'Tahitian hips' or so says the kayak rental guy when he learned that we never tipped over; I'm sure he says that to all the girls. That the long dark tunnel up to Diamond Head would end just before I thought I was going to have to turn around and have a panic attack. That a semi-private beach without a bathroom can lead to a 'situation', I just gave you a topic...tawk amongst youahselves. That the person in back of the kayak is supposed to steer, unless it's the wife in back and then the husband will do whatever he wants to in the front anyhow. That tandem kayaking is the way to go; that way, if you flip over or do anything else that causes a problem, you can blame your spouse.

That you miss so much just playing in the water...put on a snorkel, mask and some fins and you'll be amazed at everything that's down there! That Hawaiian Shave Ice places aren't open after 7pm...no matter how many you go to. That shrimp shacks really are shacks...or old VW buses. That too much haupia (can you say Ted's Chocolate Haupia Pie? Yum!) makes you have to poopia...a lot. That the USS Arizona Memorial is incredibly moving, and should be on every one's list of things to see. That there is no such thing as too many frothy pool-side drinks. That the water can never be too blue, the sand too fine, or the sunset too beautiful. That you should do the things that push you outside your comfort zone, and do them with zest.

I learned upon reflection that J and I would probably be 'that couple' were we ever to go on Amazing Race; loud and intense, and making those around us in the middle of a dispute that's, for the most part good-natured, slightly uncomfortable...but it would make for some damn good television and we love each other more at the end of every day.

That absence really does make the heart grow fonder...I'm ready to see my babies again! Well, maybe after just one more day of being a pool rat. I'll see you tomorrow! Mwah!

Aloha O'ahu!

Today I did something I haven't done in over three years. I flew on an airplane all by myself, and it was fabulous. I noted several infants and toddlers with parents laden with toys, food, drink and other goods to occupy them for the journey ahead. What did I have? A small rollerbag, my purse and a smile on my face.

The night before I'd been at a friend's house and spent an evening with former co-workers and my sisters-in-law who are now scattered about and pursuing their lives; a good time was had by all. As well as a lot of wine consumed...thank goodness for Starbucks! On the way to the airport, I snapped a shot of the sun coming up over Mt. Hood. A perfect Oregon morning, and a wonderful day to fly.

As we boarded the plane I waited in line with all the other child-free people, and stowed my sole suitcase in the overhead compartment before taking my seat at the window, which would have otherwise been occupied by a car seat.

As I settled in next to my stranger-seat-mate, I heard the whimpers of an unhappy baby a few rows back. "Somebody's not happy, and we haven't even started yet", grumbled stranger-seat-mate. I turned with a smile on my face and said "Well, then I guess you should be happy that it's not your problem, huh?" Ah, I finally found the shut-down for airplane small-talk. Calling someone out on their bitchiness.

After 5.5 hours of looking out the window I couldn't stop thinking of the comedy sketch I'd recently seen, Everything's Amazing and Nobody's Happy (check it out on YouTube), as I gazed down the length of the 767's wing. How does this mass of steel become airborne? And how could you be experiencing that feat of science and engineering and be snarly?

As I snapped aerial shots of the North Shore upon arrival, I stopped to take a picture of the wing as we made our descent. H and I had just talked about how the one part goes down, and the other parts go up, and it all helps to slow the plane as you descend and roll up to the gate. Alas, I guess I miss the little buggers after all.

Home, Home on the Range

This week I made yet another cross-country flight with both kids; I feel a lot older and a little wiser. About two days before our trip, I realized that a big part of my dread was the prospect of holding ChuckRoast on my lap for the duration. A quick phone-call and courtesy call-back after my wait time at 800-IFLYSWA resulted in the purchase of an infant fare ticket, and a large dose of relief.

I somehow managed not to spend a single penny at the airport, but I did have to endure the annoyance of the baggage swab which was far more unpleasant than the full body pat-down. Something in my small soft-sided Coleman cooler, in which I'd packed a plethora of flight and kid-friendly foods still in their factory seal, was showing as being toxic per their swabs.

Well, that's not good.

So, in Chicago on our layover, after we ate the majority of the contents and I was able to condense down to my one backpack, I ditched the cooler. Not only was it extra baggage, something about it made them think I was a terrorist. With Horizon Organic milk boxes. And cereal bars. And string cheese.

Plane boarded and day of travel begun, I busted out the portable DVD player that Alex had gently, and multiple times, suggested I may want to borrow. I'd survived a number of cross-country flights without an extra piece of baggage, so I'd be fine on one more, right? Once again, my faithful friend was correct and the day before I left I called to ask if the offer was still on the table.

A viewing of The Wild between Providence and Chicago, and H was ready for leg #2, as mama played the game of Sally the Sherpa to get from one gate to the next with H's back-pack, my back-pack and a small bag of diapers slung across the handles of the stroller in which both kids were blissfully secured, a car seat over one arm and a smile on my face.

I did the dance down the aisle with a car seat held as high as I could, Charlie in the sling, and Henry trailing faithfully behind under penalty of death if he touched the controls that make the jetway separate from the plane; yet another hazard in having a child whose hero is Curious George...it would be less give-you-a-captain's-hat-and-let-you-sit-in-the-cockpit and more mommy-gets-arrested-for-suspicion-of-terrorist-activity. Especially in light of the cooler debacle.

I smiled wryly at one passenger as he was holding his head as far to the side as possible so as not the be concussed by the car seat and I quipped 'As if him crying won't be enough to make you hate me, I could give you a skull fracture as well!' Luckily he laughed.

Each time one of my snotty kids coughed or sniffled, I could see passengers giving me sideways glances...I should have put snouts on them.

I love flying Southwest, but wish they would have a direct flight. Alas, part of the lot of flying on the airline that has heart, is a lot of up and down. Being a master planner, I changed Charlie's diaper in my lap just prior to the last trash collection as we were getting ready to descend in Salt Lake, where we'd have to sit on the plane and wait for the connecting passengers to board.

Just as we were given the fasten seat belts warning due to turbulence, the most foul smell filled the air. Awesome. So glad you didn't do that before I changed your diaper. Not quite brave enough to delve into that with him on my lap, I had to wait...and wait....and wait until we landed.

Back in the air again for our one-hour romp to Boise, we were almost home-free. H had fallen asleep for almost three hours on the prior flight, dosing off during take-off while reading the brochure for the 737. Charlie had yet to sleep a wink.

After arriving safely we walked to my sister's car and I noticed a large box strapped to the top of her Explorer. What. Is. That?! Oh, just a tub surround for a friend...because Sherpas run in the family.

Kids fed and car gassed we were in the home stretch; a three-hour car ride to my parent's house in rural Eastern Oregon. As I took in the slush and the grey, the sage and the open space surrounded by mountains, it came to me again how much I love my home.

About half-way there, we realized there was a slight thumping noise from the top of the car and glanced to see if the other had heard it too. After a van passed us motioning to the top of the car, we decided to pull over and investigate. Sure enough, the slush and wind had ripped off the front corner of the box.

Small pieces that could fly out should the whole box become compromised were removed and the security of the tie-downs double-checked and we were back on the road.

As we pulled up to my parents' house, Charlie was still wide-eyed and promptly handed me separation papers announcing his intent to divorce his car-seat. It was only as I sat him down on the plush carpet and he stumbled his first few steps that I realized...he had not taken a single step since 4am EST...and it was 5 at my parents'. A full 16 hours in which he hadn't been out of a seated position, other than to bounce on my lap in the plane. Ahh...a shining example of motherhood am I. In my defense, we had just enough time in Chicago to eat, change a diaper, go potty and head to the gate as they were able to leave ahead of schedule.

Go ahead Char, you are now free to roam about the country.

My Motherhood, My Self

It's been awhile since I've posted because I was on vacation; Sweet Home Eastern Oregon (sing it Lynard Skynard style). I don't think I can encompass all the shenanigans and hilarity that ensued on this trip in one post, and I also can't talk about some of the ridiculosity because I value my relationship with Fancy Nancy.

So, here's a re-cap:

4am on a Monday morning, we got up and showered for the drive to TF Green, loaded the kids and pulled up to the airport at 6:15 for a flight that left at 7:15. Yes, we were late. The line for Southwest snaked out the door and the tension emanating off J's person was palpable. I strapped Charlie in my newly acquired Ergo, got out my suitcase and loaded H into the stroller while J parked the car in the long-term lot.

H was not pleased to be in the stroller, as he had his Elmo backpack on and it was a tight squeeze for the two of them...but he wouldn't take off the backpack, so his decision had a fun consequence. He screamed through the entire line to the ticket counter that "I don't WANT to be in the stroller!!!" Great, way to let the folks know in advance that you'll be that kid on their flight.

Luckily the employees at Southwest were speedy as always and we made it through the line in no time. The security line was equally quick, facilitated by being allowed to have Charlie remain in the Ergo since the only metal pieces are the little snaps at the shoulder for the sleeping hood. (One more reason to invest in it!)

While J the Pack Mule took the car seat and H to the gate, I used my two free hands to get coffee and muffins for the flight from Starbucks. We got there just in time to board and settle in. My friends had asked me the night before what my flights were, and I told them I had two two hour legs. I should have known my math was off...I was not prepared for the announcement that our flight was 5.5 hours...for the first leg...

I got a mini lunge workout, as I spent the entire 5 hours that we weren't taking off or landing standing in the aisle swaying back and forth. Reason #2 I'm glad I invested in the Ergo.

After a brief layover in Vegas where H kept asking if he could play the 'fun games', we made it to the Boise Airport where I had a mini-tantrum at the Budget counter when the staff tried to convince me that the Toyota Camry was the same size as a Taurus. Whatev'. J insists that it's just because I'm a Ford fanatic and don't know what to do with myself without one. Or, I believe his direct quote was "You're a Ford Fundamentalist trying to bring a jihad on the foreign auto-makers"...I think that was a bit much.

As we sped along I-84, I took in the scenery of sage brush and rolling hills and felt a lightness to my soul...I'm home!

At my sister's house in Ontario, we were greeted with the smell of a lasagna dinner and had just enough time to eat before Milly and I headed back to Boise to get Sherri and meet Baby A for the first time.

Baby and Sister #3 in tow, we left the airport and revealed our plan to get ice cream on the way home. We weren't sure where to stop, so decided to head further into Boise...we were talking, talking, talking before one of us finally said "Wait! Why is there just sage brush and no city?" Yeah, for those of you familiar with Boise, we were just miles outside Mountain Home...oops!

Safely ensconced in Cracker Barrel, after a little detour, we ordered berry cobbler with ice cream and then made our way back to Ontario at the early hour of 11pm...I'd essentially been up for since the day before since I only got three hours of sleep the night before...I was suddenly exhausted.

The time at home was fantastic; all four sisters in one spot at the same time with all of our kids! Of course, it was punctuated by the usual family mini-drama which, when related back to J (he left several days before I did due to work), elicited the response "Wow. I'm glad I missed that." But it was nothing that couldn't be soothed by soft-serve swirl cones at the Cove Drive-In

A particularly riotous addition for a couple days was a cousin's pit bull named Chaos who was 'starving'. Oh, good thing there were several small children whose faces he could eat if the hunger pangs became unbearable. Maybe it's just me, but feeding a dog whose breed is known for violent attacks before exposing him to a group of little ones running around in bathing suits would be prudent. Despite my snarky outlook, the dog was very gentle, and wasn't allowed to romp with the kids so my apprehensions were for naught.

H slept like a rock in a tent in the backyard next to Granny each night after days filled with swim trunks, slip-n-slides and ice lollies from 6am to 10pm. Charlie kicked it in the pack-n-play in my parent's bedroom each night while my dad's Darth Vader-esque sleep machine provided the lulling white noise.

Sherri and I(and J while he was there) stayed in a room at the Union Hotel; The Garden Room which, in addition to wooden lattice laced with plastic vines as a border and a white picket fence headboard (kitchy-cute), had a 'greenhouse-like-atmosphere' as there was no a/c and the window in our bedroom didn't have a screen on it. Thank goodness for ceiling fans, right? But no matter how steamy, or free of children the room may have been, there were no vacation interludes...it's a little hard to be romantic with the doors to the bathroom that joins your room to your sister's are wide open to facilitate airflow.

My 30th year was rung out in style, with some drinks with friends, J, and my sisters at Benchwarmers where I finally learned my happy medium. I had four fantastic drinks, had a great night, and didn't have even the hint of a hangover the next morning. No having had much practice with the whole drinking scene in college or high school, this lesson has taken me far longer to learn than Joe the Plumber. Sorry Ms. Palin, I had to make a reference to you, since your awkward rambling resignation punctuated my vacay.

The solo flight home went much more smoothly than the one with both parents on deck, and I'll maintain that it's because people show far more sympathy for a single mother travelling with two under 4 than a 1:1 parent/child ratio.

As I nudged open the door to our apartment, and the familiarly-scented, cool air hit my face I rolled the luggage into my bedroom, deposited the kids and breathed a sigh of contentment...I'm home.

After about four years of pouring over (obsessing is a touch strong) the lives of Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha I had my first chance to visit the Homeland. That's right, SallyHP Goes to NY-ington. There were a couple hitches in my I'm-going-to-NYC-to-be-glam-and-have-glam-times fantasy, and their names are H and Charlie.

Yep, I ventured into the city for my first time, and decided to do it solo with both kids. I wish I could say that hilarity ensued and there were so many misadventures I have to break it into multiple posts but sadly, for a city with such a reputation for crazies and congestion, my day-trip went off without a hitch. I was frankly far more impressed by the purple mowhawk-sporting punk rocker that was walking a rooster on a leash in Eugene, OR when I was 12, but that's just me. This could have a lot to do with the fact that we were on the Upper East Side, too, though.

I was helped greatly by Alex's husband who basically created a tailored list of directions for me to drive to Yonkers and then take the train to Grand Central Station; complete with a list of terms that would 'immediately and irrevocably alienate me from all New Yorkers', and a brief but concise explanation of the street/avenue orientation of Manhattan that came in handy more than once.

I was meeting my sister-in-law LuLu, who was visiting "the city" (should that be spelled like a proper name, as in discussing Him?) from Oregon and had joked that I should get in the car with the kids and meet her for lunch. "Umm...okay." I think she thought I'd just laugh it off, but people don't quite get the level of my unrequited "NYC as seen on SATC" obsession.

The utter lack of freaky people, wall-to-wall noisy pedestrians and situations in which I felt uncomfortable was a little disappointing, but I got over it. H was a trouper as we walked for almost four hours, which is really about twenty-four in pre-schooler time. I borrowed an Ergo carrier (definitely going to invest in one now!) from a friend and had H on the red-neck backpack leash, so we were footloose and stroller-free.

We ate lunch outside near Grand Central, then got on the subway and explored Central Park, capping off our stay with Tasti D-Lite which I have to say, as a soft-serve fan, was mighty tasty indeed.

Seriously, the biggest people watching shocker I have to report was when I deduced that the lovely girl sitting across from us on the train back to Yonkers was quite possibly a "dancer/entertainer"...and I don't mean at the Met.

What first appeared to be dewy, glowing skin under the harsh lights of the tunnel was revealed in the sunlight of Harlem to be body glitter over a fake-n-bake tan. The phone conversation in which she proclaimed to a friend to have "went in, made some money, and bounced" and that her plans for the rest of the day were "Heading to Westchester...but don't worry, I'm bringing us back some 'presents'...you'll see tomorrow..." as she smiled coyly and sipped from the pink straw in her clear plastic cup. The cup she'd filled with wine from a small bottle in her purse after wryly proclaiming to me while flouncing in the seat "Long day!" further served to prove my suspicion. But she was nice to, and tolerant of, my kids and I really don't ask for much more than that.

Saving the best for last, I debated about this one's retelling but in the spirit of fairness here goes...I didn't want Charlie to feel left out in later tales of humiliation, so I decided to get uncontrollable diarrhea about an hour and a half into the trip(what?! I'm an anxious driver when the destination is unfamiliar, so I can't have breakfast and consume lots of caffeine!), during which he had to be on my lap in the bathroom, as I was without aforementioned stroller. (note to self; okay to still bring stroller in the car).

Yep, same thing that happened with H when he Charlie's age...only that time, I was at the sketchville rest area at Dead Man's Pass, not a clean and comfy gas station in Connecticut. But, Potayto Potahto.

Now that I've got my first city-bound trip under my belt, I'm thirsty for more. Going with a 'non-tourist attraction' agenda probably helped in the stress-level, as there were no rushes or deadlines (other than just leaving the city by mid-afternoon, which turned into early evening; read: rush-hour). Also, a trip sans kids and into Greenwich Village may up the SJP sighting quotient, no? And they really do strut around the city in those fabulous shoes!