Tomorrow is December 1, 2007

That means that NaBloPoMo is over. I will be able to say "I DID IT!!" and "I survived posting every single day in November (albeit, not necessarily thoughtful or good posts, but I did manage something).

Yay!!

Thanks to those of you who felt and/or posted your sympathy for my Bad Day. I'm really on a roll, today, albeit not as bad as yesterday, has been extremely aggravating. Thus, I'm having an aggravating day in lieu of a bad day. Does that count for anything? I didn't think so.

So, what was so bad about yesterday/today? (you may want to check out the list of links on my sidebar right about now, 'cuz the violins are coming out).

Rewind to Wednesday.

Work: the homo sapiens whom I deal with were great. Others, who, unfortunately, interact with my little universe were not. In fact, the description "wild-monkey-crazy-animals" would not be an overstatement. Can't go into any more details than that, because then it would be too specific,and the laws, and blah, blah, blah. At any rate, the behaviors (note: PLURAL) that were going on at work caused me to leave in a FOUL mood. I was so anxious and 'keyed-up' it took me the upwards of 2 hours to quit 'vibrating-internally' (you know, where you're so stressed out your guts feel like they're twisted in knots, and you start obsessing about what happened, and you get more and more upset--the negative cycle). Then, as a result of my stress I got upset stomach and started to have (am I actually going to publish this?) diarrhea.

Oh. So. Gross.

I was a very unhappy camper.

Then, I got to go back to work from 4:30-6:00pm for a conference/seminar that was mandatory. I'm currently taking a university class, and I have already done 25 classroom hours, and to finish it out I have a 'class' for 1.5 hours every month that I have to attend to receive my grade/credit. Oh joy. So,whatever 'unwinding' I had accomplished got undone when I walked in the doors for class.

Thursday:

Woke up at 5am still feeling ill. I have never had a somatic reaction like this to stress; ever. I rolled around and hoped I'd feel better...in the end I called in sick and spent the day feeling queasy and had unhappy intestines.

It gets better.

Wednesday afternoon after getting the mail (drove to the mailbox because, well, you know, I'd melt if I had to walk to the mailbox in the rain. You saw the Wizard of Oz, right? That was my sister), I noticed a tap-tap-tap noise. I figured I had a rock stuck in the tire of my van. Turns out I ran over a BOLT! AHHHHH!

So, after picking the kids up from the sitter (you thought I actually took a sick day and kept the kids home? Yeah. As IF.) I drove us to the Honda Dealer to ask about the tire. They told me to go to America's Tire Co. because they were really busy, and it would take a few hours for my car to get worked on.

Ok. I can do this.

We get to America's Tire Co. and my (evil screaming hellions) children behave like a 4 and 2 year old, respectively: they run around the shop, climb the tire/wheel displays, and scream like banshees. The tire guy looks mortified, and offers to 'work quickly' sine he sees I have "little ones." Great. Thanks. I appreciate it, I do. But, he tells me it is going to cost me $75 to fix my tire.

GAG!

Who pays $75 to fix a tire? Me, that's who. See, one of the joys of a 2006 Honda Odyssey Touring Model is this great little invention called run-flat tires. In a nutshell, run flats let you drive for 50 miles at speeds of up to 55mph without having to change the tire. The idea is so that if you're out and about and a tire gets a hole/leak you will be able to drive long enough (at highway speeds) to safely get to a service center without the hassle of changing a flat. Great idea. Poor design. Run flats wear out in about 30,000 miles of driving use. To replace them they are a special order, and here's what Consumer Reports had to say:

Consumer Reports magazine, said the tires offered a safety advantage, but the
tire forum on its Web site (consumer.org) had many complaints from run-flat owners about
higher-than-expected replacement costs, difficulty getting repairs and what some
considered excessive wear.

Ok. This is my only complaint about my van. Pretty good, don't you think, if that's my only gripe? I guess it is my 'just desserts' for insisting on the 'top-of-the line' if I were to cross over to the dark side of mommy-hood: driving a minivan.

The problem became, after I walked a sick me and two squealing, hungry little piggies up and down Lancaster Dr. and found a Chinese restaurant to feed us dinner (By now it was 5pm), was when we got back to the tire center an hour and a half later the tire was not fixed and he had, surprise-surprise, really GOOD news: It wasn't fixable.

I need 4 new tires (they're worn out) and I would have to immediately buy 1 new tire if I was to drive my van home. Great. The estimate he had for me for tires--ONLY, was $1,200.

It is amazing that I didn't barf right there on the counter.

Thankfully, by this time B.J. had met me at the store, and I let him take over the haggling.

In the end, since it was taking for-ever to get a tire changed, it is 6:45pm now, and we'd gotten to the tire shop just past 4:30pm, I pitch a fit, get the car seats squeezed in (should have used WD-40 to help) to the backseat of the Eclipse, if that is what you call the little shelf behind the front seats. Let's just say, preschooler and toddler in a sportscar is a real trip, in both senses of the word.

The kids and I get home. B.J. arrives about an HOUR later, with USED tire on the van, $150 lighter in the pockets for a USED FREAKING TIRE!!

We were so not loving the fancy tires, last night.

Friday:

Today was aggravating because my Nikon is still not back, got a call from the shop saying that it will be $95 to 'fix it' --huh? it is in the shop for a warranty-covered cleaning. I'm blogging right now so that I don't return the phone call and totally chew-off the store clerk's ear. My 1pm dentist appointment was cancelled. Let's just say I was dreading the cleaning all week long, and now that it has to be rescheduled, I have another new week to dread the cleaning, once I call back to reschedule.

Does it ever end? Oh, yeah, B.J. and I decided to buy new rims and tires for the Honda. No way can I put cheap-o steel rims on it (way too tacky, even for me) and that's gonna set us back $1800. But, that purchase (we're trying to hold off) is for next month--as in January.

But, to put it all into perspective, I'm grateful for what is a 'bad day' or an 'aggravating day' to me. Because, after reading about what the Ugandan people have to deal with, on Prose of Sharon's blog, I have nothing at all to gripe about. Even in my 'bad moments' I'm blessed beyond belief.

Here's to the weekend, and all the troubles I'm blessed with. I hope I can keep this perspective tomorrow, when we get picture re-takes of Peanut and Chubber.

We did it! Last post for NaBloPoMo.

And, how perfect is this? "The Twelve Days of Christmas" by The MacKenzie Brothers is on the raido right now. Their attitude sums up NaBloPoMo. Perfectly.

Cruising toward the end of an epoch

I just love Craig's List. It is like the eBay for weenies. Like me.

You know the people who pretend to be techno-savvy, but are really only mediocre at the computer stuff. The folks who would love to be able to be one of those eBay whizzes who sells snow to Eskimos online and makes a mint doing it? Yea. That's me. Craig's List is less hassle, less risk, and no credit card numbers involved. I can and do handle that. It lets me dabble in online sales, without all the commitment.

I sell random stuff on Craig's list. Probably the strangest thing I sold (in under 24 hours, mind you) was my old Amana Dryer. It worked as well as you'd expect a 10 year old used dryer to work. And, someone bought it *snaps fingers* just. like. that.

The most recent of my sales on the list was this: A three-sided 'Little Tykes' play structure.

Over the summer I watched my two babies play on/with it less and less. It was becoming clear that its usefulness and time at my doorstep was coming to an end. It was with mixed emotions that I posted it to Craig's List. A part of me was thrilled to have more room on my back porch, but another part of me didn't want the fun with it to end.

I remember when I found the little play structure, I was so thrilled! I had been coveting one of these structures for Peanut because it would be a lot of fun for her, and it would be easy enough that (given her physical limitations) she would be able to play on it and feel good about herself.

Peanut, and later Chubbers, had such fun playing on it. They both could climb, slide, and play under it in the 'fort'. It was just the right size. But, as I said, over the summer it became more and more clear its time was done.

So, it was with great sadness that I posted it on Craig's list. I half hoped it wouldn't sell. If it didn't sell, silly as it sounds, it was a way to keep a small vestige of 'babyhood' around. I've been slowly but surely getting rid of all my baby paraphernalia. The baby-car-seat: Gone. The changing table and glider rocker: gone. I have the crib disassembled and ready to be sold in the garage, but I'm dragging my feet.

I don't know why, but it seems so sad to let go of all these things. I posted it online about a month ago, and as of yesterday the play structure is gone.

It is the end of a period in our lives. I debate with myself, and B.J. whether or not we want a third baby. I know in Heaven I will have all three of my babies, one is already waiting for me. But here, on Earth, I wonder if we're done. Most days I know that we are; but then there are other days where I get this dull ache in my core that yearns for another of those sweet little bundles. I sometimes really miss that sweet milky breath, and rocking a tiny little love to sleep. Some days.

I feel like if I get rid of all of my baby stuff, it sort of seals the deal: we're done. Finito. Fin.

*sigh*

I am looking forward to the new stages we're about to enter: Kindergarten and (for Chub-chub) preschool. It just seems so strange to think: no more babies.

I wonder if all moms feel this way? Do you ever find that peace where you know in your heart and your mind "I'm done."? Some days I think I have that feeling, but then something happens--I see or smell or hear something that pulls on my heart strings and I'm lost, all over again.

Chopitty-chop-chop-chop!

I finally did it!! I have been saying I'm going to chop off my hair for what seems like forever. It is Go-one.

It feels great.

Anyone who has known me for any long length of time knows that (This is for B.J.'s Foster Sister, if she's reading...) my hair style, length, and color changes about as often as the seasons. If you look at photographs of me that are in my home, say in my living room, you'll notice that my hair has been many different shades found in nature (and the rainbow). I have had short (as in shoulder length and a little shorter) hair, and I have had long (down to my bra-strap) hair. I have been blond, brunette, red, and at one point in time a favorite purplish color (I found out the hard way, pumpkin orange, is, truly, for fruits and veggies only).


About the only thing that has stayed consistent over the years is the fact that my hair is fine (yag-I hate it) and that the longer it gets the curlier/kinkier it gets (and, no, it's not meant to be a pun). Curly hair is--great if that is what you want. However, like all people with one hair-type or another, you always want the texture/type that the good Lord didn't see fit to give you--so, in my case, I've always wished for thick, stick-straight hair. It has never happened, and after all these years I've resigned myself to the fact that it may only be able to accomplish straight for approximately 2.3 minutes, or until I walk out my front door and the humidity hits it. *Sigh* Such is life.

So, after about three weeks of serious contemplation (and seriously resisting the urge to purchase a set of Whal clippers) I decided to take the plunge and CHOP IT OFF! I have hated my hairstyle for a while now--I sometimes like it, on "good hair days" but those are too far and few between. [B.J. informs me I always love my hair for a few weeks after I get it cut/styled, then inevitably I decide I hate it. I think he's on to something there...] I decided I wanted the type of hair style that I can shampoo and shake my head and be done. The ultimate 'wash and wear' style. I think I have achieved it:



It is short, baby! Really, really short. And, true to what B.J. says, I love it. I love it so much because I can get up, shower, shampoo, fix my hair, and make-up and be dressed and ready to go in a whopping Fifteen Minutes!!! That just rocks. I am beginning to understand and appreciate just how easy guys have had it all these years. I think I'm going to like super-short hair. It is so incredibly liberating to just have hacked it all off (well, not me personally, my stylist--whom has watched me chop it shorter and shorter each time until I have finally reached this length, or the lack there-of!).

It is funny, how right the writers at Allure magazine got it, when they wrote about cutting off your hair, and the catharsis that you feel. It is like, at the risk of cheezy-ness, being remade, new, all over again. And, I definitely feel new.

Sunriver

Well, here I am, at last, with time to write about our little holiday in the mountains. In a nutshell: we had a blast, and we definitely got the most 'bang for our buck.' We were up in Sunriver from Friday through Wednesday--our first real 'vacation' since Chubbers was born.

Our Holiday week started out on a funky note. But, then, when you're talking about me, would it start out any other way? We had hoped B.J. would luck out and get Thursday, July 5Th off, so that we could head up on the Fourth of July--but no such luck. Ya win some, you lose some, and with that we packed up the van on Thursday evening/Friday morning and were about ready to head out of the driveway (quite literally, we were all buckled in, engine running) and B.J. gets a call on his cell phone.


'Oh crap.' I thought to myself. Something has come up--the house caught fire, the roads were washed out, lemmings are falling from the sky (hey, when I panic, I do it up right). Nothing so dramatic as all that, thankfully. Just an hour and a half detour added to our drive to swing by the in-laws house and pick up the accidentally forgotten pool passes for our vacation (they were going to be dropped off at the Sunriver house...but life got in the way). No biggie. There's a reason why I have a built-in DVD player in my van--PARENTAL SANITY!

En route to getting the passes in Eugene, my meticulously mapped out Letterboxing (click the link, and it will fill you in--yes, I keep saying I'll write a blog, I've been too lazy so far...) route got all messed up--as in the stops were off of HWY 20/22 and we would be driving up HWY 58 to get to our destination. I decide this won't work, and, besides, after my raspberry mocha from the Evil Empire I had to pee, and thus the Peanut and I detoured to the U. of O. to a) go pee, and b) print out a new letterboxing agenda that worked with HWY 58. (Yes, indeed, I am insanely obsessed with my hobby.).

It was interesting to see the changes at my Alma Mater. It has been a total of 7 years since I received my B.A., and 5 years since my Master's degree. The exterior of the university hasn't much changed, but I noticed subtle interior changes; changes that made me feel old. That surely sucked. I had to ask the librarian for help (how on earth do you print out stuff anymore...?). But, with a little patience we were 'good to go.' With new letterboxing agenda and little Peanut in hand, we walked across campus, met B.J. outside of MacArthur Court, and yo-ho-ho and away we go.

The drive is beautiful, and we've forgotten how green and lush the vegetation is on the way up to Willamette Pass. It had been a full 4 years since we had driven to Sunriver via 58. Time flies when you're having babies.


We stop in LaPine to do a little letterboxing/hiking. It is good for the kiddos (and us) to stretch and move around; we reach our box and are rewarded with views like this: The view of the Deschutes river from the hidden letterbox location at "Big Tree" (incidentally, a 1,000 foot tall ponderosa pine tree--'big tree' as a site name seemed a trifle understated).



When we make it to Sunriver we immediately dump off our stuff and head to the pool. It is hotter than a frying pan, and we're all hot, dusty, tired, and in serious need of some refreshing. The pool definitely does the trick. In fact, we spend every afternoon for each day of our holiday at either the North or South pool--miraculously (and thanks to a neurotic sunblock-a-holic) nobody but B.J. (who refuses to wear sunblock) gets burned. Yippee! I have accomplished my personal goal of no sun burnt babies and very little tan lines. I just love the new continuous spray sunblocks--I can even get my own back with them, and they dry almost instantly. (Yes, this is me in my swimsuit from hell.)


We did a lot of walking around in Sunriver, but the majority of our walking around and hiking came in the form of letterboxing. This is the insane (and utterly fun) letterboxing itinerary we followed: Pilot Butte--I just love this picture I took of of Peanut and Chub-chub on the top of the butte:


Peanut climbed up on the post all by herself, with no prompting from me, and as you can see Chubbers is in the dirt--something that would be repeated again, and again, during this trip, prompting us to nickname Chubbers "Pigpen" in honor of the chronically filthy Peanuts character.

We also went to sites at: Shevlin Park Covered Bridge (in Tumalo); Sawyer Park: #1 (couldn't find box 2 or 3--very frustrating); Hollinshead Park; Widgi Creek (next-door to the Seventh Mountain Resort) and Cascade Lakes Scenic Byway.


Another box we found was called Quacker Backer Central Oregon Where I waited with the kiddos in the van since it was out in the brush (we're talking no paved roads, here) and not developmentally appropriate for a 1.5 year old and a 4 year old to tag-along. While waiting I got out of the van periodically to look to see if B.J. had headed back yet (he was far enough out I couldn't see or hear him) and in the process, brain-trust that I can be, [I am not thinking of wild animals out here] I startle and in turn am startled by an 800lb. ELK! I about peed my pants (I had to go already and was doin' the dance) with fright.


It was at that point I, after I recovered my wits, I began looking at the various animal tracks in the dust and mud where we were, and only then did I notice the abundance of Elk and Deer tracks (cool) and (gulp) Lynx tracks! I could hardly wait for B.J. to get back--all the while having visions of him being mauled violently after unknowingly startling a sleeping wild cat while looking for a letterbox. In the end, no harm, no foul. It turned out to be a really cool and really, really, remotely placed stamp.


We had several other 'attempted' letterboxes--boxes we tried to locate but later found out I missed finding one by 5' (grrr! how frustrating) and also finding out a number of the boxes were missing (double grrr! it would be nice if the box owners would take the 'clue' out of circulation if they aren't available!!).


One of our adventures that resulted from chasing down a missing box was visiting the Lava Cast Forest. When we embarked on this journey, we didn't realize that it involved going off-road to get to the hike. Off-road. In. A. Mini-van. (secretly, I think that this was so totally exciting!). If I still had had my Explorer, going off-road, down dirt trails, over curbs, through small rivers--no big deal. But, this was in a van. Pretty gutsy. The picture doesn't look too bad, but just imagine an old-time aluminum wash board. Yep, you know the kind. Now, apply that zig-zag pattern, horizontally with 3-4" grooves to the road. For NINE miles. Then you have an idea. The kids had a blast. Little kids love to go "uhhhhh" (a monotonous tone with the voice) when going over a few bumps in suburbia, well, they had the time of their lives going 'uhhhh' for 9 miles each way. B.J. and I laughed so hard. Where is Bill Cosby, when you want him? We ended up not finding the box (the author informed me it was missing) but the sites, and geology we learned about was worth it--me being the dyed-in-the-wool-geek that I am, I just ate it up. (I'm going to ROCK! at Jeopardy! some day, all because I went to the Lava Cast Forest). We saw where the Lava flow had gone around the trunks of trees and, miraculously made 'casts' of the trees. Pretty cool beans.


We also went on a wild goose chase at Newberry National Volcanic Monument. It was o.k. though, because, again (me being a geek) we learned a ton about our local geology, and got in a couple of cool hikes (Big Obsidian Flow & Newberry Crater). The views were spectacular.



We spent the entire week together, as a family. It was fun, relaxing, and a good way for all of us to connect. However, like all good things, this too, had to come to an end.

We (B.J. and I) have been coming up to Sunriver together for the past 11 years (B.J. has been coming since he was 4 or 5 years old). We have shared a lot of good times together at the Sunriver house, we've grown, changed, and learned a lot. So, it was with bittersweet tears that we said goodbye this time. This visit was our last visit, ever, to this house. The family has decided that the house has served its purpose and it is time to move on. And thus has ended another chapter in our lives together: Goodbye Sunriver.










We made the most of it, and it was a good run.