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Lock your doors!

Buuzzzz! Buuzzzzz! Buuzzzzz! At 4 o’clock this morning, I was awakened from my dreams to the sound of my alarm. It took me a few minutes to recall why on earth I was waking up at such an ungodly hour. As I blinked bleary eyed at the green numbers switching to 4:01 I remembered – my dad was having heart surgery this morning. I am not a morning person. I’m quite thankful that both my kids sleep in each day until after 8 and that, as a stay-at-home-mom, that means I get to as well. Even when I have somewhere to be in the morning, I rarely am awake before 7:30 because I refuse to schedule doctor appointments (and such) before 10 o’clock. The few reasons I am happy and willing to wake up before the sun are: Christmas, an early flight to Disneyland or a morning hot-air balloon ride. Driving an hour to sit at a hospital worrying about my dad certainly does not top my list of fun things to do in the wee hours of the day.

At five on the dot, two of my sisters (Amy and Lizzy) arrived to ride down to the premier hospital in the area with me. We stopped to pick up our Nanny (not a baby-sitter, our 82 year old grandmother) on the way. As I pulled into her driveway and dashed up the stairs in the misty rain, the oddest thing happened. Her door didn’t open when I turned the knob. Strange. So, I turned it the other way, thinking I’d forgotten which way it opened. Still not budging. Please understand, this was the first time in my entire life my Nanny’s door had been locked. Seriously. I have no memories of anything other than knocking lightly on Nanny’s door and then going right in. Since she is now mostly deaf, I was pondering how hard/long to stand there pounding on the door when I heard the phone ringing in the house. One of my sisters was calling to let Nanny know we’d arrived – smarty pants.  It hit me just then WHY the door was locked. My Poppa (Nanny’s husband of over 50 years and my beloved grandfather) has been in and out of hospitals and rehab centers since last December and hasn’t lived at the house with Nanny for many months. It made me sad to think of my sweet English grandmother living alone and being concerned enough for her safety that after 40+ years in the same house – she’s finally locking her doors against the evil of the outside world. [Read more…]

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Child’s pose

I’ve recently started doing yoga at my YMCA. I don’t claim to be good at it. I’m not even sure I’m doing half the poses correctly. Most of the time I feel like the most uncoordinated person in the room. However, it makes me feel very relaxed despite the fact that I’m dripping sweat the entire hour session. That alone makes it worth the awkwardness and fear of falling over. So, in I troop, three times a week. I haven’t even purchased my own mat yet because I’m still trying to figure out if this is going to permanently be a good workout, or if it only is right now because I’m stretching my body in ways I don’t think it was designed to move – and most certainly is not accustomed to.

I really needed the relaxation of breathing deeply for an hour while trying to stay upright balancing on one bent leg today. My dad was in the hospital on Friday with a blockage in his artery – and is heading into surgery tomorrow to remove the block and have some stents put in. I’m pretty stressed about it and figured yoga would help me (at least for a little while) try and push the fear of losing my Daddy out of my head.

Usually I get to class a few minutes early, lest I get stuck front and center or directly behind the 7 foot tall dude who frequently comes to class. Today, I was practicing my breathing waiting for class to start, and in came trouble. A woman – with her 2 year old son. She looked frazzled. Like she absolutely needed a break from the kid because he was driving her up the wall. I wondered why on earth she hadn’t left him in childcare – and then realized maybe she wasn’t actually coming to class, was only checking out the Y. Silly optimistic me. She was indeed coming to class and proceeded to get herself a mat…and one for the rugrat. Now, as a mother, I love that my Y offers “Mommy and me” yoga classes. I fully intend to take Madison with me to a couple once she turns three.  So, my next thought was that this lady thought she’d arrived at one of the kids-included classes and had no idea she was about to completely disrupt an entire room of people. [Read more…]

“Mommy I have to go potty!”

Ah, potty training. Is there a more wonderful thing in all the world? I think not.

My daughter Madison will be three in October. As of last week, she was still going in a diaper and I, her mother was changing her (sorry – little potty book humor for you moms out there). We tried going cold turkey to panties before, all it got me was a week of cleaning her messes off my floors, carpet and whatever toys she trailed across in her rush to tell me she was going potty. We tried bribing her. For a week she got a new play-doh item every time she went in the potty. For a week, she was perfect. Her motivation ran out as soon as the toys did.

Part of me wants to say she’s too smart for her own good. That she obviously knows it’s far easier to have Mommy (or Daddy) clean her up than to do it herself. So she’s intentionally deciding to continue with the diaper. But I know that’s just vanity – wanting to believe my child is brilliant rather than too lazy or stubborn to just go herself in the bathroom. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Madison  (I’m sure) is a genius who will one day wow the world in some amazing fashion, but that’s not WHY she isn’t potty trained yet. [Read more…]

First Snowflake Freakout Lady and the Blue Tarp Camper

Blue Tarp Camper:

This weekend, dad says “We’re camping on the coast.” And what dad says, goes. “We don’t need to check the weather report, we brought our own blue skies with us” Blue Tarp Camper, you’re one of us.

First Snowflake Freakout Lady:

This is a seasonal saga of tire chains, kitty litter, all wheel drive and one woman’s willingness to simply walk away.

She knows it’s coming. There on the double Doppler: a slight chance of accumulation mainly near the Puget Sound convergence zone …on higher hills of 500 feet or more. In other words, climactic Armageddon. Somewhere out there in the dark there’s a slippery, malicious snowflake with evil in its heart. And neither she nor her urban assault vehicle (with optional winch adventure package) will be going anywhere tomorrow. So what if there’s a major presentation at work tomorrow – don’t you understand? She lives on a hill! First Snowflake Freakout Lady, you’re one of us.

Pemco Insurance launched an ad campaign  a while back with “Northwest Profiles”. I saw the Blue Tarp Camper on TV a couple months ago, and just heard First Snowflake Freakout Lady on the radio. These two profiles are hilarious to me because they accurately describe my parents. [Read more…]

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