Food For Thought...

Momversation is such an interesting platform...here's a discussion on Motherhood vs. Marriage...which is harder?

Heather Armstrong (of dooce.com fame) had the following to say about her contribution:

"I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I really had no experience with babies, whereas before I got married I dated a wide variety of men, some hairy, some bald, many of them gay. I'd lived with men before, had shared my stuff, had compromised my tastes and time to make things work, and so I understood what kind of energy it requires to make a relationship last. And when I started dating Jon I knew that he was the person with whom I could make it work, with whom I wanted to make it work.

This does not mean my marriage is easy by any means, and in the original footage I talk about the many years of therapy we have been in personally and together as a couple. Our therapist has been paid a lot of money to teach us to tell each other, hey, stop treating me this way, you're not meeting my needs, I feel this way when you act like that. And yes, my nose scrunches up like that often when we have those types of discussions. And the argument usually ends with Jon going OH MY GOD I'M MARRIED TO YOUR GRANNY.

And while motherhood has become so much more natural to me there is still so much unchartered territory ahead, and I find that each age is so different than the one that preceded it that sometimes, although infrequently, it feels like we're starting from the beginning all over again. Sure, there are similar surprises in marriage, but right now almost eight years into our relationship I feel like what we share is the rock I use to stabilize myself when being jarred by everything else around me."

Hana Hou!

(I took this picture at Molokini!)

I just finished the book Sweet Life by Mia King, and it has me waxing poetic about warmer climates and tropical fun.

The month before J's graduation from medical school, I took him on a trip for which I had saved (I know...shocking; I am not a great saver) to Maui. Granny and Papa came to stay with H at our home in Portland so that he could continue with his routine, and we could have a real vacation before leaving everything we knew for the next chapter on the east coast.

With our trusty copy of Maui Revealed in hand, we had an amazing ten days filled with fresh coconut and mango ice cream, gorgeous sunsets from the up-country (Kula) house that we rented from a friend of mine at work, sunny beaches, amazing views from Haleakala, a harrowing drive to Hana and, of course, a few days of plate lunch.

I wasn't sure if I'd get claustrophobic scuba diving, so wanted to try snorkeling first; it was such an overwhelming feeling of peace once your face is in that water, so clear and beautiful in the protection of the crater of Molokini. We attended the requisite luau, but mostly we just relaxed, drove around the island with the top down, wind in our hair, and enjoyed each other's company.

We flew Hawaiian, which has direct flights to both Maui and Honolulu and still has a meal service for us plebes in coach.

Having grown up in the waters of creeks fed from mountain snow run-off, dipping my toes in bath-tub warm water was deee-lish. I always knew I was a summer person, but that clinched it. Ironically, I'm also "Sweaty Betty" so this trip was well-timed and allowed me to embrace the wet heat before moving to the sweltering summer that was our first in Massachusetts.

Much to my delight, I learned that a part of J's residency is an elective month in the third year to Oahu in order to practice tropical and hyperbaric medicine. I think the keikis will love a trip to see Granny and Papa, then I can gracefully exit and join J for a good week of R & R. I foresee scuba certification at Central Mass Diving before departure.

This Haole can't wait to be laying on the beach with a book, by myself, slathered in Maui Babe tanning lotion (over SPF 400 of course), drinking iced tea and eating all the fresh fruit and Saloon Pilot crackers with guava jelly and peanut butter a girl could ask for...mmm...Hana Hou!

Crouched in the Fecal Position

Today, J installed the BumGenius diaper sprayer that I ordered from amazon, and was declared 'defective' by J before we left on our trip. After talking to "Support Guy" at The Mini Shower, I was pretty certain that it was more operator error than defective product. Sure enough, it now works like a dream. Well, I guess it's all in perspective because I'm not sure at what point in my life I let the purchase and successful implementation of a diaper sprayer be a highlight, but alas...

I went grocery shopping after being gone for 2+ weeks, and filled our cupboards and fridge to the gills with foods that would help support our resolution to be a healthier family. I was a little shocked that after following my meal plan shopping list, along with some lunch and breakfast staples, that I had not let my weak self take over and buy the ice cream that was on sale. That's right, I got home with the only "dessert" in my bags being three boxes of fat free instant pudding. On that trip, I got some of H's favorites; clementines ("baby oranges"), grapes, bananas and "cheese from the bag" (shredded cheese). Apparently we need to offer a little more cheese from the bag and white meat chicken nuggets because the by-product of our ships in the night parenting style today was that H had a Fiber One granola bar and two clementines for breakfast with J. Then when I awoke from my post nursing-all-night stupor and tagged J out to have a nap before work, I let H have two more clementines when H George (because he is anyone but himself these days) assured me in monkey-speak that he'd not had any yet today.

Two Numero Dos accidents in the underwear later, and I was pretty sure that he'd told a little white lie about the oranges.

For our big meal of the day, I served a vegetarian lasagna with applesauce and green salad...yes, our first Meatless Monday. All H ate was the applesauce and some grapes. He was mid-sentence talking to J and got a little teary...it's so nice when the kids appreciate your culinary efforts. But, wait..."Are you pooping?!" I yelled with surprise...yep. No shame, just let it rip at the table. Awesome. J got to take that one for the team, as I ate my cup of chocolate pudding. However, after H knocked over the glass of milk he was drinking beside the table, after being told about 4,000 times to sit down, he was relegated to his room.

All too quiet in there, I went to check on him, and noted the bow-legged saunter of a bull-rider, and knew he'd poo'ed again. Awesome. He looked at me and said "My pee makes polka dots! Isn't that silly?!" Yes, that's exactly what I'd call it. It's so silly, when you spatter your carpet with pee.

H is now in the tub, and will be wearing a diaper for the remainder of the day. He'll not be eating anymore fruit today as we finally put two and two (well, actually it was 4 number twos) together after examining what he'd actually eaten all day.

I would recommend the sprayer to any cloth-diapering or potty-training parent. Now maybe I need to invest in a stool to sit on while crouched over the toilet bowl spraying out all of H's underwear and C's diapers, it's a bitch on the ole back. I can say, however, that it sure beats the dunk and swish. Ahhh...remember the days when crouching over the toilet bowl was the direct result of having too much fun?

Thank god for hot water, anti-bacterial soap and hand sanitizer.

Match Point

Because I am instant gratification girl, I've been on the kick of knitting socks. I made my first pair in October and then in December I knit four pair, one that I mostly knit on the drive from Eastern Oregon to Portland. I picked the second sock up to finish it two nights ago and measured it against its mate in order to determine the point at which I should start decreasing. Measuring tape, Schmeasuring tape I say.* I was surprised to find that it was already time to start my little k2 together, then k1, sl1, k1, psso (What, Milly?!...Oh, you don't like it when others speak a language you don't understand in your presence? Pobre cita!)

I got the second sock completely done; perfectly grafted for a seamless toe, ends woven in, put a fork in it, it was d.o.n.e.


Oh, wait...





Since the intended recipient does not have a hobbit foot paired with a giant foot, I guess I'll be buying another skein to make a mate for each. I made a valiant effort to put both on my feet, and while the smaller sock stretched to fit, it would make a pretty lame gift. A former practitioner in the church of 'good enough'. I've learned that it's sometimes just not, well, good enough. (This is also the reason I'll be frogging the yoke portion of the sweater I'd started after I learned to do a provisional cast-on and make a seamless back.) Becoming faster at knitting has opened my world to the possibilities, and it's also made me a little more fastidious about the appearance of my finished product.

*Note to self: You have a tape measure within arm's reach for a reason.

Home is Where Your Bed Is

After two weeks of being away from what we've created as 'home', slipping into the cool cold sheets of our humble queen bed last night was an emotional sigh. Flying into TF Green to multiple inches of snow on the ground, snow in the Jetway and blasts of cold air past the sliding doors made entering our apartment that was left, literally, ten times warmer than the 6 degree air outside feel a little heavenly.

Thank Jesus that H and C saw fit to reward me with the flip-side of the time-zone difference and we all slept in a little today. All three of us were in the bed long after J left for work, and I didn't feel one bit guilty. For whatever reason, C took an extraordinarily long nap today and they both went to bed at their normal (EST) time.

I bought a "My Heart is In Oregon" sticker at New Seasons that will ride proudly as the lone adornment on our car. I have to say that it feels good to be back in the space that holds our new friends and our own warm, cozy, fit just to our bodies (and our family) bed.