Finally - I'm "in"

Oh my gosh! I am finally "in". Back when I used to actually work in a library, Entertainment Weekly was my bible - my weekly reading that took priority above all others. Now, I learn that they have deemed "Mother-Child Blogs" as "in." Hurrah! I was the one who didn't like the Indigo Girls until 1998, the one who bought a poncho a year after they hit, and still sort of wish I could have long fake nails. So you can see that I am never actually "in". And I have to admit, I was a big reader of mum blogs, knitting blogs, family blogs before I tried one myself - but at least I hit it while it was actually deemed in.

But, when I think about it - if it was already made it to EW it list, it really must already be over. merde. Oh, well.

E is an ace on the space climber. I love how much command he has over his little two-year-old body.

Of blisters and beer

So it's over. 128 miles notched on our lipstick case along with some blisters, some very raunchy behavior (especially for a group of youth librarians), and finally sleep!

Here we are at 5am on Friday morning. I was so amped up on Thursday night that I never went to sleep. This was not good. Somehow the thought of watching TiVo all night didn't strike me as a bad idea - until later of course.

In the end though, sleep did come and was beautiful!

While Marci and I were walking the first leg, the rest of our van hit Voodoo Donuts and presented us with this unique anatomically correct donut. I won't actually write what the name of the donut is but it's title became our signature chant the entire race - which made us very vulnerable to disqualification - no obscene behavior is requested! But obviously, not followed.

The end was such a big relief and I finally got nearly everyone to strike a cheerleader pose with me. The beach was beautiful and Astoria was even more green and lovely. Our rental house was bizarre in a very endearing way - almost like a pink Six Feet Under set. Oh! And I found Danzka grapefruit vodka in a total hole in the wall stop at 2:30am! It was gone by 5pm the next night. Ah. Sleep.

4:10am is too cruel

Alright. I am off on a 100 mile-plus team walk. 32 hours, 12 girls, dark chocolate covered espresso beans, Rancid cds, two knitting projects and multiple bottles of tequila for the after-party in Astoria. Wake-up call tomorrow? 4:10am. Lovely.

This makes me so happy.

I had a short-lived cross-stitch stage during graduate school. I asked my mom if she'd like me to make her something and she gave me a deadly NOKOTD (not our kind of thing dear) look. I ended my foray into, "I LUV To Garden" crapola and took up pottery. That didn't go so well either. So here I am - knitting, and very snotty about it.

Venti Iced decaf Americano, with room for milk

It's 10am and I have already been to Starbucks twice today. Once with Marfie on our early morning walk, and then again on the way to work, even though I was running late. I even got some lovely appraising looks from the crowd of Ethiopians who I always see talking, talking, talking and sitting outside there. They have no idea the perfect, fluffy bitch hair I was sporting deflates by mid-day.

I know that as a dedicated transplant to Portland I should eschew the evil corporate giant. I should buy my iced espresso at a small joint, locally owned by a cooperative of lesbians. But here is my evil truth: the morning start up drink that really, really makes me happy is a venti iced americano, one pump mocha with a bit of 2% milk. I've tried the independents and they don't compare. I've tried the smaller chains like Coffee People - the worst since they got bought out and ended the fabulous organic line that had a superb frothiness. The closest to perfection I can find while staying in line with pdx values is Goldrush Coffee Bar on Russell and MLK - they serve Illy - which I got addicted to on our trip to Italy last spring. BUT - no big iced cup - just a medio. ugh. I am a slave to my cubicle. I need a big icy thing to get through the first hour of email, returning calls and um . . . reading knitting blogs.

Thankfully, I am married to none other than THDC (tall house, double cup), a man who shares my deep, deep commitment to feeding our caffeine need at the evil Starbucks. He has no moral qualms about this and is a favorite with the early morning crew at our local Starbucks. When I make my super dark, fabu brew at home (coffe made from espresso beans!) he still puts off that first cup in favor of stopping off at Starbucks. The thdc lasts him perfectly through his 35 minute work commute yet another evil corporate giant.

We've even found a drive-up Stabucks sort of on the way to E's preschool. Luckily, he doesn't share our addiction. He's happy with a cup of water because really, it's all about the straw.

able baker E

Any mum out there will know what I mean when I say, "How did this boy's body ever grow so big?" I am in awe of his beautiful skin, that sweet belly that sticks out, and how willingly he lets me hug, kiss, pet, squeeze, and tickle him.

"Make muffins with me, Mama!" I have a serious potential baker on my hands. He is also into shelling peas, snapping beans, and getting a boost from me or THDC (tall house, double cup - that sweet, tall drink of coffee I am married to) to look into whatever is in the big kettle on the stove.

We were actually already done baking when I took this one - E was in the process of moving all the flour from the container into his bowl - and then back again. I love it that we have the time together and the kind of life where this is perfectly fine and doesn't freak me out because of the mess.

God, I love being his mama!

Tyler's Birthday

Evan found only joy in learning he was allowed to stick his fingers into cousin Tyler's birthday cake! He is so my child.

Not YP

Evan wasn't thrilled by the thought of going to the new older room at preschool today. He is amazing in his little ways of trying to subliminally trying to persuade me. He won't look me in the eye, but rather glance around as if he is talking to someone else and say, "I am not going to YP today. I am going to play soccer with Basil." Nevermind that he IS going to YP and that Basil is a part-timer at preschool who still isn't old enough to move up to the new room.

The teachers are truly helpful and want Evan to be successful in this transition. I don't know if they believe me when I tell them about the conversations E and I have. "None of the big kids like me." This broke our hearts! But I couldn't let him know! I found myself telling him the names of all the kids who like him and then as I heard myself reciting names I thought, "I've got to help him understand that it doesn't matter who likes you as long as you like you."

Shite - I am not ready for this stuff yet!