Bah Snowbug

I've said it before but I'll say it again, I've become a snow grinch. I love snow... in its rightful place, which, to me, is in the mountains and not outside my front door. Or, if snow and I must cross paths in my front yard (preferably in the backyard if it's coming anywhere near my house), I think it should be a good houseguest: come, stay for an enjoyable amount of time, and depart while we all still like each other. For me, that's about 48 hours maximum. I realize the irony in this is that we are the last people who should talk about being good house guests since we tend to come with our traveling circus and set up camp for weeks at a time. There ain't no law against irony, though. I do also understand that my snow grinchiness does mean that I miss out on some things, like skiing from my front door or building snow people in my back yard on an hourly basis. Now that I live in a city again, though, I WOULDN'T DO THAT ANYWAY. Okay, I could build snow people in my back yard but I wouldn't be able to ski from my front door so really, what's the point of having to shovel out the driveway and sidewalk with no real ROI?  For me, it being 40 degrees in the middle of winter means that I can still take the Energizer bunnies to the playground and we reduce our cabin fever by leaps and bounds. Nonetheless, these little people of mine haven't been infected by my snow bah humbugs yet and they really like the fluffy white stuff (and I must say that the snow that we had while still in Penticton tended to be of the good houseguest kind). They think it's fun to eat it, play in it, toss it, slide in it -- all the good stuff. I also have so many good memories of playing in the snow as a kid that I don't think I could ever live in a place where it never snows. Maybe I've just been away too long and am displacing some of the envy, who knows? Regardless of your snow situation, I wish you all a pleasant today, whether it be 40 and sunny or 20 and snowy.

If you can't beat it, join it. I did have fun with our couple of inches of snow before we left and Jack most certainly did. 

The other happy snow tromper (who is apparently one pom pom short).  This is such a laughable amount of snow to get bundled up for but it's what we had to work with. 

Slightly scary swinging picture, yes. But the sun, oh the sun, was our friend right before we departed. 

And sure, we have some rainy skies here now but a few drops can't keep us inside when it's close to 50 and the park beckons us from mere blocks away. 

Landed

The eagles have landed yet again. We are in Seattle after a marathon day on Wednesday (note to you out there who plan on moving with small children: leaving town for a 6+ hour drive at 8pm after you've watched people load your truck with stuff all day is pretty much a recipe for disaster). We are in our new place, and while I wouldn't say we are settled, all the boxes we shoved in our car are unpacked. Ten down and 987 to go... 

Our new place is charming and in a great area of the city (I hope and think). We can walk to the playground in about four minutes (or with Molly in about 25). There's a little coffee shop and pizza place right around the corner and groceries can be bought for under three million dollars each trip... life is good.

I'm sure I'll have lots more to reflect on in the next several weeks but I wanted to announce that we're officially open for business -- come visit or send us an empty box just for fun since we can actually predict when it will get here instead of guessing when it will clear customs. Good times are in our future.

The kids are doing surprisingly well. I think they miss some of their toys but Molly has her clothes so she can change 100 times a day, which makes her happy, and Jack has his booster seat so he at least has a place to sit and eat, unlike the rest of us, who have to sit on the floor/have an indoor picnic (my mom's reframing of the situation). I also think kids think furniture is pretty dumb and they are happy to have open space to race up and down and back and forth. Our stuff arrives early next week (I am ready for a table and couch) but we are here, it's not raining, and we're out exploring. Did I mention to come visit??

Oh, and there's no snow...

Mom, can I pleeeeeease pack the computer for you? Please?

I'm pretty sure this is how people dress (and act) in Seattle. I'm ready.

After a hard day's night of getting here (sleeping in my car seat is hard), I just need a little nip to relax.

Hit The Road, Jack

While Jack is apparently pretty comfortable in his current digs...

No, really, Buddy, just put your old tootsies up there because that's sanitary. Don't let common courtesies get in your way or anything. 

we're starting to pile up the boxes and look ahead to our next steps. This is our last full week in Penticton and I'm sadder than I thought I might be as I say goodbye to people or do things for the last time. It's been an enjoyable ride up here and we've gone on some amazing adventures and met some truly wonderful people. Some things I don't care to repeat but overall it's been a really positive experience. I'm ultimately glad that we got outside our comfort zone (okay, Ms. Homebody here got outside hers... John's comfort zone is wherever he can lay his head at night, which many of us know is almost anywhere. Literally.) and stretched ourselves and made our family stronger. When we came here, Molly was still rocking a mullet (and some things never change...) and in diapers. Now, her hair can go up in pigtails, she runs around in her undies, she can get dressed and undressed (several times a day) by herself, she swims better, she runs better, she thinks better, and lord, does she talk better (and more and louder and more and louder and more and louder). She went from a toddling 18-month old to a spunky three year old and gained lots of friends, confidence, acrobatic abilities, a love for our dentist, speed, determination, education, and an opinion while she's lived in the great wild west. SO much personality developed and emerged while we've been here and while it was often hard to be away from the bulk of my support system when some of these traits popped up, I think she and I bumped along together pretty well. We have stumbled and fallen down together many, many times but we have also managed to pick ourselves up and repair our mistakes and, as a favorite professor of mine liked to say, we're stronger at the broken places. Penticton was a good place to explore and have loads of fun together and I'm so, so proud of who she has become. This has been a period of a lot of growing up and figuring out and while she obviously would have done some of this anywhere, this has been a good and caring community to really let her be herself and come into her own. 

And Jack? When we came here he was still a bump in my belly and hadn't graced the world with his gap-toothed grin and chubby knees. His life started here and he went from sweet, sweet baby boy to a sweet but feisty 15 month old in no time at all. He rolled, spit up, sat up, spit up some more, crawled, started spitting up less, and now, walked all as a little Canadian. He's never lived in the mother ship as evidenced by the fact that he likes to add "eh" and "dontcha know" to any animal noises that he makes (just kidding). He won't remember his time here but I hope it's a place we get to come back and visit because my earliest memories of him will be rooted in these mountains, valleys, and lakes. He has gone on some wild rides that not many babies can boast and he's done it all with very little attitude... until now (the big little guy has really started expressing his opinions. Chief targets on his favorites/mom's do not distribute list: iPhones, remote controls, home phones, John's iClamshell phone, iPads, laptops, and electric outlets). Jack has done 10 cross-country flights, done more than 20 5+ hour car rides, and slept in some strange, strange places. I think he can stop gunning for platinum airline miles status right about now and can settle down a bit. I'm interested to see if his interest in throwing himself headlong (again, literally) into EVERYTHING will decrease once we move across the border (why do I think it will? I have no idea) since, you know, Americans are more conservative than Canadians... 

When the movers come to pack us up next week, it'll be with mixed feelings for me. I'm super, super (did I mention super?) excited to get back to home turf, be closer to family and friends, and live near Trader Joe's again. I am no good at termination, though -- never have been, never will -- and I don't process endings very well. It's way down the road, at random moments, that I realize how much I really miss someone or how important something was to me and it's only then that I can fully appreciate how an event or a person impacted me or our family. I've had ample opportunity to realize how important the folks back home are since moving out here and I suspect that I'll feel some twinges of those same feelings about stuff from here. These are the things that make our lives richer, though, and in the end, we all have been luckier for getting to love and to lose a little bit than to never live at all. 

Jack versus the piano... there was a clear loser in this battle, as in a "does he need to go to the ER for stitches?" loser. We, naturally, said "nah, we've got a stapler around here somewhere, that'll do". Thankfully, he got a matching bruise today when he fell off the chair at school. I like my kids to be symmetrical. And no, I didn't really home-staple my kid's head shut. 

American Pie

We decided that it was time that Jack learn a little something something about his Americano roots so we are revoking our expat status and returning stateside at the end of the month. We're taking on Seattle (which, ahem, has direct flights from Boston) and I would like to give the Space Needle fair warning that it should watch out for certain small monkeys who like to climb anything and everything. 

We have a cute little house lined up so if anyone wants to come visit, we always have room and will welcome anyone with open arms. We're looking forward to the next phase of our adventure -- some of use are especially looking forward to being able to use mail order again -- and very excited to be down the road from people with whom we share a last name. 

Here we come, Uncle Sam. Cheers!

Animal Farm

I've created a new title for myself: herder in chief. I feel like a lot of what the small people and I do around here is bounce (sometimes rapid cycle) from one activity to the next and that I'm privileged enough to be at the head of the herd. Sometimes it's like herding sheep: s-l-o-w to go anywhere. Sometimes it's like herding cats: impossible and maddening. Sometimes it's like herding sheep dogs: we're a well oiled machine that can get up and out the door in no time at all (this is rare but happens enough to lull me into believing that we can do it all the time. If things never fell into place, I would just give up and never get out of yoga pants or leave the house). Seriously, though, who am I kidding? While my fantasy-mom-self likes to pretend that I'm the top dog around here, reality-mom knows better. I'm not. I am not driving this bus at all and I'm pretty sure I'm barely holding onto one of those handles. It's why Molly went streaking when she was Skyping with my parents (and I didn't even notice because it's fairly common to be in various states of undress around here -- for the under four footers, that is. This is a family blog after all) and wears her bathing suit or jammies for at least 375% of the time we're at home (another 198% of the time is spent in princess clothes. Yes, I know my math is fishy but sometimes the days feel long) and shrieks when Jack enters her protected space, which is an ever changing but apparently at least a 10 foot radius around her (and then she's all indignant when he doesn't  actually want to get all up in her grill -- she's not one to enjoy an ebb in her power). It's also why Jack has approximately 999 new bruises each day and lots of people say things like "oh, he's a climber" (when he's on top of the train table, the play kitchen, or in the sink at school -- well, yeah, duh).  Basically, I just try and herd my people back to safety and warmth and the ground. I also know that I really only enjoy some top-dog status around meal times or in the Starbucks drive-through when I can provide hot chocolate to one desperate and clearly deprived individual. I'm okay with being low woman on the totem pole (most of the time...) because I enjoy the ride I'm on (although I do wish Jack wouldn't fall of the changing table when I'm standing right in front of him or that he wouldn't finagle a way to get his leg up high enough to tip his chair all the way back). I've found this three year old/one year old stage very, very, very, very, very, very busy with two climbing monkeys ruled primarily by their hearts instead of the heads. With a bit of space at the end of the day, a good support system, overlapping naptimes, and some good old fashioned exercise-induced endorphins, we're chugging along and finding out all sorts of new and exciting things about ourselves (like how long it takes me to sprint from one end of the classroom to the other while hurdling a train table to pull Jack off the top of the bookshelf that he was nowhere near thirty seconds before). I'll take my herd of cats (or occasionally sheep or dogs) and laugh about the madness as much as I can and just keep trying to herd these animals out the door in under three hours.

Sometimes, life is nice and peaceful and there is sibling bliss (and some clashing outfits)...

Other times, there's total mischief afoot with some climbing game happening under my nose...

I'm not sure that I'm happy he can climb into this on his own...

Because no good can come from a toddler (oh joy that I can say that finally!!) and a light switch.

Hey mom, it's cool if I climb on something with wheels, right (notice that I intentionally didn't include the wheeled object in the picture in case I wanted to pretend that I was a good mom who never let stuff like that happen). 

But the pride... oh the pride. 

 

Overindulgence or self-preservation

Teamwork twice in one week? Holy smokes!

And there's the madness about to start again...

Chill Out

It's freezing here and while Penticton can boast almost unlimited outdoor opportunities, it may not win any awards for indoor activities (unless you like curling). With things being closed down for the holidays (thankfully school started again today. Wahoo!), we were on the hunt for some things to do... forcing Jack to walk only takes up so much time. It was really too cold for skiing or sledding -- and trust me, the playground is not that fun when it's 23 degrees outside. Oops -- so we bowled, we played with Playdoh (some people, okay both people, ate it), and tried to avoid going completely bonkers within our own walls. 

Baking cookies, for example, comes with all sorts of different responsibilities. Sometimes it's about breaking the eggs, sometimes it's about adding flour, sometimes it's about going house on the candy canes so they can get sprinkled on top.

Other times we spend a lot of time rearranging couch cushions. 

And other times, we just help ourselves to whatever is in the 'fridge. 

Winter is hard, though, don't you agree? My genius children have managed to master their second language (a shock to those who knew my German grades in college): whining (okay, now that's not so surprising). I swear, they found the Rosetta Stone cds for whining and learned it by heart overnight. Oy vey... the mom I would like to be wishes that I had creative solutions to whining up every sleeve and could just redirect, redirect, redirect but sometimes the cabin fever gets the best of all of us. Word to the wise... sticking stars on the calendar for peoples' birthdays: thumbs up for an activity. Bringing your three year old to Staples at the end of the afternoon and then, apparently, picking the wrong check out line: big thumbs down (actually, whole body down) for an activity. We're hoping for a winter warm-up so that we can actually breathe the fresh air outside instead of trying to avoid it when we're running from the house to the car. 

Put Your Right Foot In

Our boy has made a big turnaround (literally) in just a few days. He heard his mama's pleas and started walking a lot more over the weekend. Hallelujah! I don't post a lot of videos but had to post one of the big little guy's trek across the floor. Like almost every single "baby's first steps" videos I've ever watched, he's doing more than this in real life but decided not to strut his good stuff on camera. Nonetheless, we're a-real proud around these parts, ayuh. 

You can email me separately if you'd like some of Molly's fashion tips. She picks out some doozies.