Good Baby

Can you tell these babies apart?

I have been such a lame blogger lately, and my following has probably dropped off. Of course I'm using the newborn as my excuse...for everything! However, I must say she is a good baby.

Certain people like to ask if your baby is a good one. Is it a trick question? I don't know. I guess it's kind of like "how are you?", a sort of pleasantry to which you are expected to answer with one of a few stock phrases. Well, yes, she is a good baby...she sleeps, she wakes up, she poops and pees, and sometimes she eats.

Now for the Results...

Check out day one at

http://picasaweb.google.com/tntpics1/Noel#

Live! Labor Update! Adult Material!

Shoot! I forgot all that breathing stuff which never really worked the last time anyway...excuse me for a minute...okay...oh and I should qualify the post title with "maybe." Except that I've been having perfectly spaced contractions for the past three hours...perfectly spaced meaning when lying in bed and trying to sleep, just as I almost drift off, along comes another. Just as I convince myself they'll stop and restart at a more convenient hour, along comes another. So I've given up on sleep for now.
What I wanted to take up with you is this natural chilbirth thing. uhhhhhhh. Cleansing breath. What in the heck? How can I get an IV drip of Stadol at my house? I don't particularly want to go to the hospital at 2:30 a.m. only to get monitored and prodded and such, but I sure could use the drugs, and maybe I could hit the tub too. Actually I would feel kind of silly going in with contractions 6 minutes apart. But what are you natural people thinking? How did you do it? I am not cut out for this kind of.......................................................................................................................................discomfort, even though I now must brag that my midwife used the word beautiful to describe my pelvis. Maybe she even said perfect. C'mon, how many of you ladies have a PERFECT pelvis?

Random update

I like to have yogurt in the house so Trevor can eat it...mostly so he can ask for it since I love the way he says it, almost like someone's name: "Yo-Gret."
Pillows are the best toys for two year-olds.
Our baby still hasn't come out, although last night it seemed like he/she wanted to.
Halloween was super fun...we trick or treated just a little in the neighborhood, and it was plenty, then had some snacks over at the Dasenkos'...it was nice to not drive anywhere, and the best thing was that Trevor forgot about all the loot he collected by the next morning, so Todd and I kept sneaking it all day. Here's the pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/tntpics1/HorrorWeen#

Lots of Pictures

Click here for lots of photos I'm too lazy to add to this blog.
http://picasaweb.google.com/tntpics1/SpringToFall02#5257997202415824034

Various post ideas...

I keep thinking of really hot topics, then by the time I sit down with the computer, forget what they are. My brain isn't functioning and I pretty much just knit and watch The Office on Netflix whenever I get to sit down. I can't read above the level of Sunset magazine. The hormones must be making me stupid, because I haven't been drinking beer or stealing percosets.
The weird side-effect of crazy third trimester hormones (or whatever is making me feel weird side-effects and write sentences like this one) is a sense of humor gone off-color and surprisingly morbid. Things that normally would not merit a chuckle are suddenly hilarious.
On a random note and because I want to be sure to overuse the word "random," I truly realized the error of my ways today when Trevor said, as we walked down Monroe past the bus depot, "What's that fat worker guy doing?" I guess I should've chosen a gentler word to describe my current condition.

I lost the list

I decided to get organized and keep my house tidy, so I made a list of weekly chores (clean bathroom, clean kitchen, wash sheets, wash floors, etc.) and assigned each a day of the week...sort of a flylady-inspired act. Well it was all going just great until I lost the list. I don't want to do the wrong chore on the wrong day! I'm going back to my original premise, that if your house is TOO clean, you probably aren't having enough fun.

First Day of Preschool

I am excited about having two mornings a week toddler-free, and Trevor is thrilled so far with Sandcastle preschool and his teachers. He is in a class with six other boys and no girls! Here are a few shots I got of Trevor, Oliver and George on their first day. You'd think I would have been all choked up, but really I was fine. I have to admit, however, that I did miss the entertainment he provides.

Third Annual Coast Camping Trip.

I am just now getting around to posting a few pictures from our camping trip at South Beach last month. Enjoy the pics, I don't have much to say about it except it was a good time. Trevor's finally big enough to run with the pack.

Encounters with nice people

Now comes the squishy feel-good part of my blog...it doesn't happen very often, so enjoy it while you can (or skip this one and wait for the return of the usual sarcasm.)
Trevor and I were out at Radke's, our favorite local blueberry picking spot, and were just leaving when an older gentleman smiled very kindly upon the sight of my protruding belly. "When are you due?", he asked, to which I replied November. "Well you look beautiful. We had a lot of kids and I always thought my wife looked beautiful when she was pregnant." He said this in such a nice grandfatherly way, not pervy or anything.
"Oh, how many kids do you have?" I had to ask.
"Eleven living," he replied. I told him I was one of eight, so I couldn't imagine having an only child. Then he said something startling. "My wife was one of forty-seven."
Well, that sort of shut down the conversation for me, not out of disgust or judgement or anything, I think I just had to let that figure register without delving anymore into the hows and whys of it. Although thinking on it, I'm sure there were multiple wives (oh my, I sure hope so!)
Getting back to my point, though...I'm getting to the complainy stage of this pregnancy (I feel like a sausage, I've got enough extra rolls to feed a family of eleven, my glute hurts, I burp eighty times a day, none of my bras fit, etc, etc.) and I've been a real grumbler even though heavier times are yet to come, with two more months to grow and grouch. I always admire women who can pull it off, manage to make pregnancy look like a fashion statement, but I tend to dwell too much on the negatives when it's actually kind of cool to have a little creature hitching a ride everywhere. So I have decided not to complain to anyone except my ob/midwives and maybe occasionally the husband since he had a little to do with my current condition, and if people want to remark upon my beautiful glow, I will embrace the compliments. So, go ahead, bring on the praise. (Pictures of my gorgeous belly later on this blog, ha ha, not really.)

Trevor's New Faves

1. The usual toddler stuff: doing everything himself, from start to finish...which isn't usually a problem, but sometimes (often) I need to get to the toilet FAST and he's still insisting on unbuckling himself, opening the car door himself, climbing out of the car, walking towards the house, etc., etc., which makes me question the wisdom of not having a porto-potty in the driveway. NO, but a with a slightly more sophisticated delivery now...I say we're going to the post office, he says "I want to NOT go to the post office." He was very anxious on a recent trip when I said we were going to go through a tunnel: "I want to NOT go through a tunnel," he kept repeating, until finally we drove through the tunnel and he was relieved "It's not dark in there!"
2. Singing songs and reciting nursery rhymes...he even has a chant that I'm pretty sure he invented; it goes something like "sobber nobber tops!" I am not allowed to recite it; maybe I'm not saying it right? Does anyone know that one? He loves "bah bah black sheep..." and will recite it from start to finish, and today I had to repeat the old woman living in the shoe about 12 times.
3. Asking me a million questions about people we see walking down the street. What's that guy doing? Where him going? Where him live? Where him hat? Him worker guy?

Where's Waldo 100k Aid Station Report

We helped Todd's running bud Scott man the aid station at Charlton Lake for this year's Waldo run, which took place Saturday. Well, I should say that Todd helped by filling runners' water bottles, Trevor helped by spritzing runners and ringing a metal bell with the Sunsweet logo on it (which he clocked himself upside the head with at one overzealous moment, leaving a black bruise), and I helped by sitting in a camping chair and occasionally pretending to keep Trevor from becoming yet another trip hazard for the beleaguered runners. We also organized the signage, which hinted as to the theme of the aid station (wow, I never knew aid stations had themes! I thought the theme was get some water and maybe some m&m's or an IV here), which was "California Surfin'." Note that I say "organize," since it will be clear from the varying creative styles that it was a collaborative effort. The aid station actually did offer cold beer, but it seemed like most people kept their clothes on.

All in all, it was a fun weekend, despite the mosquitoes and those pesky runners who insisted on disrupting our peaceful lakeside retreat with their demands for gu2o (whatever that is) and ibuprofen and stuff. My favorite part of the whole trip actually occurred the evening before the run when a thruhiker on the PCT by the name of Dogwood sat and chatted with us for an hour or two, ate a piece of the blueberry-blackberry pie we brought (now that's an appreciative audience for fresh homemade food!), and asked if the ultrarunners were part of some kind of jogging club! HA! That strikes my funnybone. From now on, when people ask about my hubby's hobby, I'm calling it jogging.

Dinosaurs

Long before he was ready to play with them, I bought Trevor a really cool set of dinosaurs from the Cat's Meow thrift store. Probably one of the best $10 purchases I've ever made...he now loves playing with them just about every day. They are scale models with the name and size stamped on the belly, from the British museum of natural history. He is always asking us their names, and unless it's brontosaurus I invariably have to flip them over and read the name...and now, he knows names of dinosaurs that I've never even heard of (like mamenchisaurus, pictured above, and iguonodon.) Valuable information for a two-year old, I'm sure.

My lovely birth experience, with few details included

I have an admission to make. I recently realized that before I gave birth to Trevor, I had an idealized and very unrealistic image of labor. I was disappointed when we got to the hospital, rushed to labor & delivery, and the nurse checked me and said I could start pushing (which I actually had already started doing, in the elevator with my entirely cool and collected husband and the orderly who was frantically and repeatedly punching the 4th floor button.) Oh, yes, I was relieved of course that the end was near, but I was disappointed that there would be no time for the whirlpool bath. My idea (although it has taken me two years to admit it to myself) was that I would be relaxing in the tub, lounging in the jets, with the occasional interruption in the form of a mild contraction which I would gently breathe through with a look of focused determination on my unwrinkled brow, only to immediately melt back into a sea of dreamlike serenity. Hmmm, it wasn't exactly like that, but I'm sure that's only because I didn't get in the whirlpool bath soon enough.

United Airlines can kiss my patookiss*.

It's getting really expensive to fly anywhere. You have to pay to check your bags, and to drink water or eat pretzels; it'll cost you to watch the movie or listen to music, too. This is not a joke: you now have to rent the pillows and blankets (I had always considered those a nuisance; I didn't realize people actually use them!)
A friend of mine who works for a major airline (no names will be mentioned) filled me in on a recent upper management meeting in which budget recovery strategies were discussed. (S)he assures me that on the very next flight any of us board, several new fees will be in place. They are, as I'm writing this, installing coin-operated locks on the bathroom doors. (Don't buy the water! There's laxatives in it!) First class customers, of course, will be given tokens upon boarding.
Go ahead and lower that tray table, but keep in mind, it's going to cost you $3. Recline your seat? Sure, but bring lots of quarters to feed the recliner regulator. Need air or want to turn the reading light on? More quarters!
As they've already gotten away with so much, the airline has decided to stop worrying about offending people and weigh suspiciously large people, charging them an additional $10 per pound over a certain weight.
The in-flight magazine and Skymall will still be free for your perusal, but if you do any of the puzzles, there will be a charge, and as for Skymall, a minimum purchase will be required--read the fine print on your e-ticket!

*Spellcheck, anyone?

The Nesting...

Is starting early this time around. I have been spending too much time reading the "extreme minimalism" posts of my current favorite blog, http://unclutterer.com/ , and just a little time digging through closets and making piles of stuff to take to the thrift store (or at least to the garage.) But I do feel these spurts and they could add up if we have a few more cloudyish days like today.
For example, among my small decluttering projects of the day...pulling all the towels out of our linen cabinet (it does not qualify as a closet) and asking the question...how many towels does a house need? I guess if you're Martha Stewart you need a roomfull for your fifty close friends who show up for an impromptu pool party. But I'll be the first to admit that I don't even know fifty people, and I don't have a pool. I actually hit the web to seek out the answer to this question. Unfortunately, I couldn't find Martha's answer; but I did find one site that claims you need a minimum of two bath towels, two washcloths, two guest towels, and two fingertip towels per person, plus an extra set per bathroom or something like that. They also had important information about monogramming.
I finally decided the proper number of towels is the number that fills two shelves in the closet and piled the rest in the garage, to either pass along or save to wipe up spills. Then the question arose...how many of these such "dog towels" does a garage need? I have not researched that yet.
Just so you know, our linen cabinet now holds nine bath towels, two beach towels, five washcloths (does not include baby washcloths), and three hand towels, none of them properly monogrammed. What the heck is a guest towel or a fingertip towel, anyway? Who cares?

I just spent the week with some kooky people. They seem normal enough, they look like regular joes (most of them anyway), and you wouldn't guess it from looking at them, but these folks have a very strange habit of running one hundred miles. In a row, like in one day...actually, a day and a night.
Sometimes, when I have to be at work for more than six hours, I have this weird feeling...I'm still here. Life goes on, and I'm still doing this thing that I've been doing for hours. I love sleeping for stretches of ten or more hours, but that's the only thing I want to do for such a long period.
What blows my mind is...I'm sitting here on the couch counting the minutes until bedtime while my hubby, who ran 100 miles with a 15,000' elevation gain over the weekend, is fiddling around in the kitchen, making homemade ravioli! What blows my mind is...he's walking around like a normal person, he isn't limping or moaning or complaining. His biggest complaint (well, besides the unmentionable chafing that one is likely to experience) is that his lips are chapped.
Here are some pictures for you to look at from our trip to Tahoe...more on that later, if I get the chance...
http://picasaweb.google.com/tntpics1/2008_0721Tahoe

New obsessions

Have you noticed that overweight people are always drinking Diet Coke or not eating any carbs between binges? In the same manner, I am always dropping loads of junk off at the thrift store only to fill the empty space with more junk from another thrift store, always trying to reduce the clutter, but somehow attracting more clutter. Why is it that when you see a house with the American flag hanging in the window as a curtain, there is always a pile of old tables, empty pots and plastic toys on the front stoop? Am I junky? Should I go ahead and hang that flag, or should I clean off the porch? Why do I have a vintage red phone--yes, a rotary phone--whose ringer doesn't work? Why am I so attached to certain kitchen utensils (gadgets) that I use once a year? These questions led me to add this new link to my favorites: http://unclutterer.com/
That's one obsession. Another one I have already mentioned: that is my clothesline. I can't do anything this afternoon until I go to Bimart and get MORE clothesline and MORE clothespins!

Early July Update

We had a fun 4th. First, we spent the morning pruning, shovelling, weeding and filling our yard debris bin. Then our friend Sara came over and made us a delicious salad for lunch. Later, we headed to Betsy & Mark's house for a barbecue. Trevor lived the dream, swimming naked in the (kiddie) pool with four scantily clad ladies. Two hours after Trevor's official bedtime, we went and watched the fireworks from the OSU botany farm. They lasted all of 10 minutes. Trevor enjoyed the first few that the kids were setting off before the official show started, but he would not budge from my lap and after the first shrieking loud one, he announced "I all done." He also said "I want to sit in the car," but I pretty much ignored his discomfort and forced him to stay. He didn't seem too traumatized. I don't know what people mean by overtired, because if you just push it three hours past bedtime, it does the trick. It took him about 3 seconds to go to sleep...maybe I'll start keeping him up til 11 every night!
Just in time for the summer heat, I finally got our clothesline hung up in the backyard, and I love it! I love hanging the clothes out, I love that I'm not running the dryer, I love the stiff feeling they get, and the fresh outdoor smell.
Our yard and our house are being overtaken by box elder beatles. I heard that the only solution is to move.

Garden Dreams

I am so thankful for the garden on days like this:
We have just returned home from an eight day trip. There is nothing in the fridge but a dubious jar of tomato sauce and a whole bunch of condiments. The cupboard is bare save for a some dried grains and flour. The last thing I want to do is go to a grocery store. So I pull up a couple carrots, harvest some sugar snap peas, and send Trevor outside to snack on raspberries, strawberries and blueberries while I cook up the goods in a pot of quinoa. Only Todd can reach the precious cherries that have ripened in our absence.
Mind you, our garden is far from extravagant. My vision in spring is immense. We have Japanese eggplant, four kinds of basil, rows and rows of carrots, onions, leeks, seven different kinds of greens, not to mention lettuces, a succession of broccoli, squashes, cucumbers, yard long beans, pole beans, fat heirloom tomatoes, tomatillos, cilantro, sweet and hot peppers, potatoes, you name it...I have long pored over the seed catalogs picking just the varieties we need. Hmmm, something seems to happen when it comes time to plant. Seed packets are forgotten under piles of bills. Babies require nursing. Vegetable starts wither in their pots. Weeds choke the garlic and the leeks are forgotten.
Still, we manage to plant a few things (always tomatoes, and spinach that bolts before I can summon a taste for it.) The peas topple over the inadequate structure we've cobbled together, smothering the carrots and lettuces. The raspberries invade the beds and I don't have the heart (or can't find the gloves) to rip them out. I never stake the tomatoes and they lay rotting on the ground. We leave town. It's not hot enough, it's too hot, it's raining, it's not raining. Trevor pulls up rows of onions and eats all the green blueberries.
But, still, with a maximum of dreaming and a bare minimum of effort (why didn't I plant cucumbers, dang it?), somehow there is a harvest of something. And this undeserved bounty starts the cycle over again...if I try just a wee bit harder next year, the garden of my dreams will bloom exponentially.

We had a fun and sun-filled trip to Jackson Hole, stopping along the way to visit friends Scott, Emily and the one-year old Miles in Logan, Utah. We did some camping, some swimming, a little bit of sightseeing, a lot of driving, and almost killed Trevor in the Wallowas by cooking in triple digits. Driving through Idaho on 84, we hit a huge dust storm with sustained winds of 25 mph and 65 mph gusts. A tailwind like that really helps the gas mileage.



Our first stop was to visit the Holtmillers in Logan in their beautiful house. I have never seen such an agreeable, mellow baby. I can't figure out where those traits came from, because neither parent exhibits them to any degree (tee-hee!) Logan is very nice but you can't buy beer on Sunday. They happen to have the best, hugest aquatic center I've ever seen (okay, so I've only seen three) with an amazing panoramic view of the Wasatch mountains (I think.) On the way northeast to Jax, we stopped at the northernmost tip of Bear Lake and played on the beach for hours. The picture to the left is not Bear Lake, but a scene from much later in the trip, and I can't remember the name of that particular reservoir right now, but it was very pleasant as well.
Jackson, while Todd was cooped up in meetings (when he wasn't running up Snowking mountain), Trevor and I strolled around taking in the touristy sights. Trevor especially enjoyed the bison ("Him have wheels. Him big.") and the various bear sculptures about town. We also caught part of a rodeo. Our other fun pastime was swimming in the motel pool.
As for the long drive back, I have to say "thank you Elmo."

It's summer, sort of.

We have had a busy week with Uncle Raymond visiting. Monday he went with Todd and some of his buds to climb Mt. Hood...pictures of that to come when I'm not as pressed for time. And of our beautiful new front door, installed by the mountaineers Raymond and Todd. We went to a Corvallis Knights baseball game tonight and Trevor only just went to bed, after 10. It was a fun time, inexpensive family entertainment, and there's even beer. Trevor was obsessed with the mascot, Mac the Knight, pretty freaked out at first but once he realized "him happy" warmed up a little to him. Still, he wanted to know exactly where he was at all times. I'm not sure if he even realized there was actually a ball game going on.
Tomorrow we head off on a big adventure first to briefly visit Scott, Emily and Miles in Logan, Utah, then on to Jackson, Wy., where Todd will be presenting a talk at a plant pathology meeting and Trevor and I will be enjoying the beautiful scenery and wandering around the town. I have not packed a thing, but I think I'll just wait until the last minute and throw some stuff in the car and start driving down the road.

I came across this in the news today:

Watermelon auctioned for $6,100 in Japan
Record-breaking sale comes after a pair of cantaloupes sold for $23,500

TOKYO - A black jumbo watermelon auctioned in northern Japan fetched a record $6,100 Friday, making it the most expensive watermelon ever sold in the country — and possibly the world.

Check out the whole article:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/24997464/?GT1=43001

Wow! There are many things about Japanese culture that I have trouble understanding, but this I can admire. Now I don't feel so bad about having consumed about $30 worth of organic grapes in the past week. I don't suppose anyone's looking for some really fancy rhubarb?

The Next Blog

My sister really wants me to be a food writer and sell articles to magazines. I'm all for that! I thought a good start would be to set up a foodie blog (like a million other foodie blogs) to at least get some practice, then I could started raking in some coins. Well, maybe I'll just put the food stuff on this one for now since I'm too lazy to start a new one.
Trevor is walking around on the ceiling and walls and spinning around in circles, some of his favorite postprandial activities. I don't mind as long as I'm out of the puke zone. He's so dizzy he's falling down but he's demanding more. His favorite word today is NO.
So back to the food thing. For a while I was not much enjoying cooking, eating or thinking about food, and most especially not enjoying the smell of food, but I am relieved to report that I've moved past that and into the Weight Gain phase. I was talking food last night with the girls at ladies' night out, and someone mentioned rhubarb crisp. So tonight I made a rhubarb crisp and gobbled it up with ice cream. I've never grown rhubarb before, but some friends of ours dug a plant up for us last fall. We left it out in the cold in a plastic Safeway bag all winter, then found the dried up root ball a couple months ago and, miraculously, it was not dead. We planted it and it's just as happy as can be now. Such indifference to neglect! I admire this plant and yet I am...suspicious. While I do not have an overabundance, I'm beginning to divine the reason that people with blogs always ask their readers, zucchini-esquely, what to do all that rhubarb. I am not asking that, because as far as I'm concerned, nothing can top a simple rhubarb crisp made with fresh ginger, topped with vanilla ice cream. Unless your idea is AMAZING.
Incidentally, I saw some organically grown rhubarb (why would you ever need chemicals, except maybe to get rid of it?) at the coop for like 2.99 a pound or something. Maybe I should become a rhubarb farmer, now that's a lazy person's crop.

What will I complain about now?

Hi. Thanks for the comments, Lacey and Anonymous Aunt. (I wonder who you are.) Whoo hoo! I have readers! I guess I'll have to find something else to complain about. Any ideas?

Happy Second Birthday, Trevor.

We invited a few of Trevor's buddies over for pizza and cupcakes to celebrate his 2nd birthday. We wanted to keep it as simple as possible so we decided to make pizza instead of ordering it. No, actually, I just could not think of a good place to order pizza from! By the way, the cupcakes are definitely from a box.

Yesterday, a giant box arrived filled with toys from Grandma. Trevor is playing with his little people barn and fire engine (I think the barn is on fire!), and he keeps saying "Save my Huckle!," a line out of What Do People Do All Day. I hid away two of the toys for a rainy day, and am hoping he doesn't take to this really cool orange, yellow and black plush snake so I can keep it for myself.

Hot Chocolate or Iced Tea?

It is one of those days where I can't figure out if I should drink something cold, or something hot. Should I make soup for dinner, or break out the barbecue? Sunny one moment, cloudy and windy the next.

The Sleep Struggle

I was never able to put Trevor down as a baby and let him cry himself to sleep. It just seemed too sad! This is not a judgement of those who successfully stayed that course; On the contrary, you brave and strong people have accomplished something quite impressive! And I'm betting that your two-year-olds can put themselves to sleep. Mine sometimes falls asleep almost instantly, with mommy or daddy sitting next to his bed, and sometimes he goofs off and plays games with us for an hour. Maybe he's not tired?

I am writing about this at 2:15 p.m., after finally having left him in his room still awake and goofing off. He protested mildly, but so far I haven't heard another peep. Is he asleep? I don't know, but it would be a miracle.

He's asleep! It is a miracle!

New blogging leaf

Yes, that's right, I am turning over a new leaf (for now) and trying to keep up with this blog thing. So make sure you scroll down and look at the new photos I added.
I'm torturing myself by staying up late, but I'm hoping it will pay off at 3 a.m. The scenario has been this: Trevor coughs (his room is very close to ours) then goes right back to sleep, I get up to pee (about half an ounce) then can't go back to sleep for over an hour. The best solution would be to get up and knit but I'm at a stubborn standstill with my project right now, a dumb mistake that I don't feel like fixing; I must avoid the knitting basket at all costs. Does anyone have a copy of Remembrance of Things Past? That could help.
Oh, hey, I realized too how liberating it is to finally realize that like three people this thing. So I don't have to worry about blathering on and on. I can live the philosophy major's dream! Not that I ever was a student of philosophy, but I think I could be good at it. I remember a friend of mind (no names mentioned, just in case my readership suddenly explodes) who studied philosophy in college, and conversations with him were a hoot! Or I guess the word monologue would be more accurate. He would (and I am not exaggerating!) go into a sentence saying one thing, then talk and talk and finally come out the other end of the (extremely long and poorly structured) sentence on the complete opposite end his original statement! It was pretty amazing. He had a tendency to drive some people insane, but I found him entertaining, so I can hope for that here too. Most of you will stop reading, but some of you will be sucked into the intricate maze of my sleep-deprived brain.
Now I can talk about something else. Entirely unrelated! You don't have to comment!!!
I am enjoying one particular aspect of Trevor's development right now, with the full realization that it can't last. It is that I can give him two choices, both of which work for me, and he will happily choose one. Oh I feel so clever! For example, if I'm trying to get him to go from point A to point B in a timely manner (like into my house when I'm about to wet my pants in the driveway) I ask "do you want me to carry me, or do you want to walk?" His answer is "I walk." And he does it! He is not yet aware of the third option ("neither.")
Does anyone with toddlers sometimes just laugh at them when you know you shouldn't? I feel bad about it, and I try so hard to at least hide my face, but sometimes he gets so upset about something really silly, then he cries and I, mean mommy, try so hard not to laugh. I try to remind myself in these situations that it's really a big deal for him, but I just can't help it. Then there's the laughing at behavior you know you shouldn't encourage, but that doesn't seem as scarring.

Some random pictures...not necessarily in any order

Trevor sporting his new shirt from Aunt Nikah.

Wow, check this stunt out!
Three dirty kids covered with ice cream. Next stop, bathtub.
Oops.

Moonshine Camping

Last weekend, we met our friends Adrienne, Nathan, Thomas and Tessa over by the coast for a quick camping trip at a beautiful-yet-trashed-by-the-locals campground on the Siletz river. You really must watch this video!

Bad Weather

I am just going to say that this weather has gotten me down. If this were February, I could deal. March, even, with a little good-natured complaining. But April 23rd and still wearing a long sleeve shirt, a sweater and wool socks? Not cool. Hail and snow instead of light ocean-kissed breezes? Depressing. I don't think I can maintain this slippery hold on sanity for more than another day of this dreariness.
Yesterday was Earth Day and we braved the elements (a downpour and even a peal of thunder and lightning at one time!) to go to the OSU organic growers' club hooha, as they call it. I have never been to an official hooha before, and I have to say (and maybe it was my addle-brained cabin-fevered rain-drenched state) that it was righteous. I never did see the promised petting zoo, but there was a guy blowing the hugest bubbles, some draft horses plowing the muddy clay, live folk music, and the nicest spread of hippie food (rice and veggies, lentils and tofu and such, hunks of sourdough bread, pickles, and dairy-free ice cream with marionberry sauce) to be scarfed down elbow-to-elbow under sodden tents. But the timing was good; when we got there (after nap, of course), the sun was almost visible and the rain a mere drizzle. The sun even appeared in a moment of glory! Then, just as the food line moved under the tent, the downpour started, and by the time we had warm food in our bellies, it had slowed down to a tolerable drizzle. I think Trevor, little icicle that he was, would have gladly stayed for hours; he doesn't mind the rain or the cold just as long as there's a party and some mud.
I am now sipping a cup of lemon balm tea, wildcrafted from our front border (I did not, would not plant lemon balm!), and it is a freakish plant with leaves the size of my hand. I think the word got out that our border theme is "romp freely," and even though uninvited, how could lemon balm, such a free romper, not crash the party? I just hope l.b. doesn't invite its rowdy friends.

Really Good Movie, Pretty Bad Movie, and the jury's still out on this one.

I have been lucky/ambitious enough to watch 2 3/4 movies this week! Have you seen Into the Wild? I love that movie. It is long but so good. I also watched Good Luck Chuck, which is pretty ridiculous and almost pornographic, with a few almost redeeming funny moments. I am in the middle of the drawn-out process getting through the Darjeeling Limited, a Wes Anderson film, which is interesting if you like this kind of thing. Definitely a slow-mover, which I can appreciate, but have to break it up into chunks, like reading Proust. So I have been watching it in short installments. I think (I hope) I am developing a new movie-watching habit, so give me your suggestions, and I will add them to my list!

We have had a very busy end of March with Todd's brother Scott and his wife Sally visiting; travelling to Portland & Seattle to visit friends, sightseeing at the coast, and whooping it up for Todd's birthday. That is my excuse for taking so long to post anything new; I will now attempt to add as many pictures as possible before I get sick of staring at the computer screen.

Don't Bring a Box of Toys!

There has been much discussion lately about how toys and even playing itself have changed. Toys are for very specific uses, with characters on them, and unstructured play has fallen by the wayside. Check out the story at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=19212514

I am not claiming to be supermom, but when I read this article, it seemed, well, obvious. I have intuitively avoided having a million toys for a few reasons, not the least of which being that it gives me greater pleasure to see my son playing imaginitively with a stick or an empty yogurt container than acting out some script from a cartoon movie with a cartoon toy. As for unstructured play, I much prefer it since it takes less energy on my part than organizing activities. If anything, we lack structured activities, unless going for a walk or a bike ride to the park or meeting friends at La Roca for lunch can be considered structured.

On to the important part of this post: You don't have to drag a bunch of toys with you everywhere, and maybe if you do, your kids are going to expect it and not know how to improvise. Here's my story: Last night we went to Todd's boss's house for an intimate sushi party. We brought nothing in the way of entertainment for Trevor, but he had a great time figuring out how to open and close Ken's windows, climbing up and down the furniture (couches, swivel barstools and a kid-sized metal chair), feeding Cassie the dog treats, and grabbing little somethings only he could see off a metal floor lamp and throwing them at the floor and furniture, then putting them back, all while singing karaoke and dancing. Why bring toys?

"Just farts, dad."

The other night, Todd was putting Trevor to bed and he had some noxious gas (Trevor, that is.) Todd asked, did you poop? NO. It happened a few times, with Todd turning on the light and taking a peek several times, until finally Trevor said "Just farts, dad."

Dreams

Almost every morning, I ask Trevor what he dreamed about. The answer is always "Sun" and "Horses."

22 month update

The distance readers of this blog may wonder what our little hero is up to these days. Well, a lot of the obvious stuff that can be expected from an almost-two-year-old. He loves to run and jump and climb, he is learning to share and take turns, and he is starting to string together three words. I have to watch what I say around him, for sure. Case in point: Our usual postal carrier is a woman, but today we watched as a scruff-bearded long-hair drove up instead. I commented that a hippie was delivering the mail today. He repeated "hippie." Later in the evening, we were reading our Richard Scarry book and came to the part about a letter being sent, and Trevor pointed to the mailman (who is actually a raccoon) and called him a hippie!
Trevor is also becoming quite bossy, in sort of a friendly way. He sometimes reminds me of the popular kid at school who is super nice to you as long as you play by his rules. His friend George was over last week, and the boys were playing in the backyard, digging in the garden beds. George decided to move on to something else. Trevor, pointing his trowel at George, demanded "More!" I asked (as I often must), "More what?" His response was "digging."
Parents are not exempt from bossing. Trevor had a fever last night, and I was babying him when he woke up in the middle of the night. He had two binkies, but he asked for more. I think he wanted a certain one, which I had left in my coat pocket in the car. I told him it was in the car, and he said (I'm not sure, because it sounded like some entirely different words, but the inflection was right) "Get it!"
Of course, my response was, I'll get it in the morning, I'm not wearing any shoes right now, etc., you already have two others. Then I thought it would be cool to record some of these conversations between parents and toddlers, where the parents are wildly guessing what the kids are saying. I say "I have no idea what you're talking about" or just "Oh, really" (which means "I have no idea what you're talking about") sometimes, but it seems discouraging to say it too often.
The End.

Economic Stimulus & Three Old Saws

I obviously don't understand macroeconomics (only nanoeconomics) because I'm confused about how borrowing 500 billion dollars from China can be a good thing for our country. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to say, Oh, it's from China, never mind, I don't want it. I don't think people who refuse to buy something because it's made in China will turn the money down, either. Still, it's a little creepy. I know there's an expression, don't look a gift horse in the mouth--but be ready for that horse to turn around and kick you (April 2009). What about the one concerning the free lunch, as in there is no such thing? I'm just saying that my instinct tells me that the feds are gonna get it back. After all, only two things are certain...

Finally, I am posting some new pictures, and maybe not the best ones, but staring at the little thumbnails gives me a headache. So this is what you get.
I am so excited for summer! Even though yes it is a long way off, really. But today was perfect, even almost a little on the hot side. We were outside for hours! Trevor was just about begging for a nap after playing out in the backyard for over two hours. His buddy Thomas came over and helped him unload most of the soil from the meticulously-prepared-and-awaiting-their-spring-sowings garden beds. Then, after a solid two-hour nap, off for a stroll around the neighborhood, a visit with Leroy, and then more backyard time. I can't wait for summer!

A Poorly Timed Meal

Oops. We decided to move the compost pile today and discovered a stinking slimy mess of maggots, or at least some kind of grubs. Unfortunately, I decided to make pasta for dinner and all we had in the cabinet were gnocchetti. It really was quite unappetizing.