non-negotiables

Well we are a solid nine months into the year of the two's. (break for applause)  I know I've said it before but living with a two year old is a little bit like having a terrorist hanging around your kitchen.  You never know when they're going to try and hold you hostage.  Odds are highly in your favor that it will be during a mundane task like getting dressed or exiting the car.  Only they won't pull out a gun, no they're much smarter then that.  Their will is their weapon.
But I'm in my second round of this whole two-thing and mama has a few tricks up her sleeve.  I mean, I know it's the end of the world that your sister gets to obtain the smiley face from the receipt checker at Costco but if you'll agree to not stage a smackdown in the store I will reward you with a fruit snack.
Stayed tuned for my new book entitled: Parenting:  3/4 patience, 1/4 fruit snacks.
But even though little pookie has pushed me to my limits on more than one occasion I have to say I'm loving all the personality that has come through this year.  As part of our arrangement in the smackdown/ toxic food bribery department I have agreed to let a few things go.  These are what we lovingly call:  the non-negotiables.

1. Since mid August Ian has decided that he is a "inja" (ninja).  This means that he will pull his shirt off in various places and choreograph sound effects to his invisible sword.  Sometimes it's one sleeve,

 and sometimes it's two.

Yes, it can be embarrassing as it appears my son is rehearsing for a drag queen performance.  But there are more important battles to be fought and good gracious the boy can only eat so many fruit snacks in a day.

 2.  Despite my best efforts at a faux-hawk Ian is a staunch conservative when it comes to his hair.

 3. And his shoes.  The kid owns more than one pair of edgy shoes but he insists on these.  He calls them his "chewch shoes" and tries to wear them to bed over his footie jammies.  I will neither confirm nor deny that Ben and I hid them in the armoire and claimed they were lost on multiple occasions, resulting in tears and barefoot stomping.  The boy has some mad stomping skills.

 4.  Yes, it's the classic thumb sucking, belly button rubbing comfort mechanism.  It is the joy of my day.  It is the signal for stress and the cuddle on the couch and the soothing motion during our nightly reading of goodnight moon.  It is him and that is why I love it.  

 It never ceases to amaze me how two children can come from the same womb and be complete opposites in every way.  Where Ava is adventurous, Ian is cautious.  Where Ava is loud, Ian is quiet.  When Ava runs, Ian clings.  But in his own way he is taking steps towards independence.  And while I wouldn't mind trading in a few of those right-in-the-middle-of-aisle-nine tantrums or ending every sentence with the word "poop", I definitely wouldn't trade the boy who looks at me with spiderman eyes and wants to be held a little longer.  Because those kisses are non-negotiable.

Help me Rhonda

There's been a fair amount of baby mama drama around these parts with a certain Ms. A starting kindergarten.  My beautiful girl is getting ready to spread her wings.  She's ready of course as she always has been.  I suppose she's always reached for a little more independence than I've been comfortable giving.  Truthfully, I've got a lot to learn from her.  She's never held back in anything she's done.  She moves forward without fear and always gives it her best and most creative efforts.  I love so many things about her from being the worst joke teller to being the most agile at the playground.  I love how she can take a roll of scotch tape and 6 sheets of paper and make a travel bag for her pet tiger.  

I love how easily she makes friends and how tender her faith is.  Her smile can knock me flat out on a daily basis.  I love the difficult parts too. (although I don't like to admit it)  Because I know those qualities will serve her well some day.
So I'm prepared to let someone else in on this good thing we've got going on.  I will logically tell myself that there are other people who can help grow this girl into the woman she's meant to be.
But I will first give myself a full three quarters of an hour to mope around the house.  I will eat more than a few cookies.  I will whine to Ben about how this feels like the beginning of the end.  The first step towards letting her fully go.

And then I will put on a brave face and throw a back to school dinner.  I will tell her how much fun she'll have and how much she'll learn.  And then I'll walk her to the bus and wave goodbye and breathe deep with thankfulness.

Ten for Tuesday

1. We had a semi spontaneous visit from Ava's great grandparents last week.  It was lovely to have them here and even lovelier that they got up early with the kids so we could sleep in.   We decided to mix things up a bit and take them to some food carts instead of the rose gardens.  Note to self: when you are almost 90 years old you care less about kitchy street food and more about proximity to bathrooms.  

 2. We are in full back-to-school mode around these parts and my girl got a little trim.  She has since decided that she wants bangs and attempts to form them with various clips and headbands. I'm hoping her classmates will think she's ahead of her time and not visually challenged.  Photos to come.

 3.  This was taken right before I hiked the littles up to the giant slide at Oaks Park.  Cut to me holding both of them screaming at the top of their lungs 500 feet up in the air in front of about 1000 moms with sympathetic glances.  Note to self: Oaks Park does not issue refunds.

 4.  In my obsession to be the coolest kindergarten mom I have started a file with back to school lunch ideas.  I'm guessing that the green bean, brown rice and corn salad is not going to make Ava think she's the coolest kindergartner.  In a surprise twist, Ava rethinks her "bangs" in exchange for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

5.  Grandpa has decided it's time to introduce the kids to power tools.  He's the best grandpa ever.  When Ava's slingshot broke because someone (Ben) was using it, he made her a new one.  I have photographic evidence but eleven on Tuesday doesn't have quite the same ring to it.  

 6.  Ava started soccer last week.  We are especially glad that we paid $150 so she can perfect her skills on the monkey bars.

 7.  Our vineyard has produced it's first bunch of grapes!  At this rate we will have our first bottle of wine when the kids leave for college.  I suppose it will be appropriate timing.  Although I won't say whether it will be a celebratory toast or a drowning of sorrows.  (wink, wink)

8.  Ever since Ben and I were married we've been making grilled pizza's with Trader Joe's $1.29 pizza crust.  So good.  I stock them up in the freezer and then just pull them out when we need them.  But I have found my favorite combination and cannot keep it a secret any longer.  Here's the step by step:  roll out the pizza crust to fit your oiled baking stone, add homemade pesto (or T.J's), crumble some cooked italian sausage, fresh corn, black beans, sweet onions, goat cheese and a little mozzarella over the top and bake on a hot grill until bubbly.  I swear it's the best pizza I've ever had.  Except maybe My Pie in Chicago or that one place in Italy.  But definitely a strong third place finish.  Definitely.

9. As we were enjoying a beautiful day at the grandparents I overheard Ava telling her neighborhood girlfriends that she had fallen into a trance and the spell could only be broken by killing the evil Ian.  They looked at her and then at each other and then kept swinging.  I, however, swelled with pride at the Anne of Green Gables moment and snapped this photo of my budding dramatic artist.

10.  This is my neighbor/friend/partner in rogue momming, Anne's daughter that they've just adopted from Korea.  Her name is Katharine but Ian calls her Catfish.  Sometimes Anne lets me pretend that she's mine.  I scoop her up and whisper in her ear that we've been waiting for her.   And even though she doesn't understand a single word I'm saying I speak her language when I rock her back and give her a big raspberry on that round tummy.  She is sugar sweet and I know in two shakes of a bunny's tail she's going to be at our house for a sleepover and I'm going to be giving her advice about boys and painting her nails turquoise and all will be right with the world.

Hope your Tuesday was a happy one!

Secrets to a happy marriage

Compromise

shades of summer

Ben and I just returned from a few lazy days at the beach with friends.  In the ice cream sundae that is our summer I would say this was the Oreos crumbled over the cherry smushed into the whipped cream squirted over the hot fudge drizzled on the scoop of Tillamook French vanilla bean.  At this point we are just being greedy.  But I am a-ok with that as it meant some last minute alone time with my man, more than one helping of peach pie, and a dinner that involved eating with my hands and five bowls of melted butter.

Frankly, it was good to be with friends who are kind enough to not let you b.s. your way through a conversation.  To hash out the fears that always seem to come along with a new fall season.  The ever present thirty days of the year where I question my identity and feel like every decision has to be made or it will be too late.  To say out loud that I feel like I could get it wrong at any moment.  I really should be used to it by now but it never fails to surprise me.  I'm trying to see the beauty in a little angst but it still gives me the shivers.
And then as I washed the sand through my toes I was quietly reminded to let that grace that is always chasing me down, catch up and settle in to the dark spaces.  I know those fears are continually creeping in and the process of surrender is a daily one but I'm thankful God doesn't leave me there for too long.  I'll take peace however He hands it down and rest in knowing that it's enough.

 For today, the peace, and the peach pie, is enough.

the colorful pursuit of courage

Let me just start this post by saying I'm a wee bit off my game these last few weeks.  I don't know if it's the heat or the perpetual state of vacation we've been in but I've been a little bit squishy.  Mind/body and spirit squishy.  I'm constantly tripping over cats and small children and I can't remember simple details.  I'm running into obvious things like the refrigerator.  I had to look up refrigerator because I spelled it wrong even after three attempts.  I serve a do-it-yourself yogurt bar and call it dinner.  I have out of town guests over and I forget to buy coffee or milk or cereal.  I tell them that they should just go to the Waffle Window.  I've forgotten to put the icee pops in the freezer and the kids just have to drink them like kool-aid.  Ben's been giving me strange looks and saying things like, "Can you just try and remember where you put the (fill in the blank)?"  But I just shrug my shoulders and smile.  Because until Falls colorful branches hook me back in to schedules and socks and birthday party details I will be lacksadaising it in the late afternoon sunshine.  And on Wednesday that looked like a station wagon loaded up with paints, paper, an easel and one giddy five year old with an eye for abstract expressionism.

I think bravery can present itself in many forms throughout childhood.  Maybe in the lonely walk across a crowded lunch room or in the getting up and keeping on of a fallen soccer player on a muddy field.  But sometimes it can be in the pallet of acrylics staring you in the face.  In the gathering up of all the fears that tell you you'll get it wrong and putting paint to paper, not knowing the results.  There were some tears as expectations weren't realized but there was also a lesson whispered in the ear.  That beauty is yours for the taking. 

Last call...

for the spectacular.

Our first time to Crater Lake and we promised to all keep our eyes closed until we got to the top.

 This photo tells us many things.  First that the trail is .7 miles.  Second that you will have to climb that almost mile at a near vertical pace and third the sun will be blazing down on you.

We all had to take turns to get little whiny up the hill.  In his defense, it was very hot, he was still on Disneyland time, and he had to battle his two-ness on a minute by minute basis.

I fell in love with this tiny Dr. Seuss flower.  I named her Puffalaloopy.  She promised to come and visit when the temperature got below -40.

Finally to the top!  180 degrees of beauty-full.

 Three generations of mountain men

 Me and my baby

 One adventure loving Yeh Yeh

 Beauty sprawled in the crevice

 One last shot before heading home