what I did not buy at the thrift store

On a recent trip to my local Value Village I observed more things one should never buy at the thrift store then treasures I wanted to drag home. Rare for me, remember that I have those tendencies to hoard all the things?!

Up first is this leotard with loads of sparkle and velvet to spare. No thank you, not even my fond memories of countless gymnastics classes would get this in my cart.

 Addendum: If you were going to purchase that leotard you are then bound by law to wear it with these silver booties. A steal at $14.99.

I didn't need a 70's sweater dress either, so I passed on this as well. Although, paired with those silver boots, you could totally be Twiggy for Halloween. You're welcome.

Now we have arrived at the more serious portion of this post. I'd like to forewarn anyone with a sensitive stomach or prone to fainting...;)

This guy will climb down from your shelf at night and eat your face. Seriously, freaks me out.

Unless of course you buy these dolls as well. Then the dolls will crowd out the mug because they're quicker and it will be a face buffet all night. No kidding!  I think I saw an episode of Scooby Doo about this once.

Ahh! Look away! They will steal your soul.

Yikes. Haven't been back in awhile, too busy with nightmares and therapy.

you are here

Two years since our move to Seattle.

And one year since we bought the house.

What is up with Memorial Day weekend? We have to be all dramatic with it, apparently. I am kind of over it actually. Seattle, the house. All of it. Like what are we doing here? Not feeling really clear about what the big story of our life is.

But then I look at the pictures and it smacks me in the face. We are raising these boys. We are trying to love each other. It is exhausting. It always feels messy.  We mostly just fall into bed hoping for something better tomorrow. On any given day there are the funniest retorts, the sweetest words, and sarcasm that cuts another down. All in the same day! Same hour sometimes!

I just keep waiting for it all to click into place. This city, the church, our community. But it mostly just us six. Keepin' it real and trying not to kill each other. Maybe we will hatch into a beautiful metaphoric butterfly someday, but we are definitely in the real weird cocoon, "is it dead?" phase.

phobic

Aden has replaced Parker in the child-most-likely-to-refuse-having-their-picture-taken category. These are a few nuggets from the past months. I guess it's lucky then in the ebb and flow of life, that Parker has discovered the Facebook selfie thrill :)

3 terrors at the mall

 #1 This measly four feet of glass railings. Freaks me out every time. I totally envision being knocked over by some intense mall walker.

 #2 Completely cray cray outfit on this mannequin. I mean, I fancy myself fashion forward but come on!

#3 The kids play area. Enough said.

This post is brought to you by a Saturday morning last month wherein I thought a quick trip to the mall was a good idea. (in hopes that I will review it if ever that notion strikes again)

I love a happy ending

This one is hard to write. We had to adopt out our family dog of almost 7 years. 

 Jake became part of the Archuleta circus when we lived on the farm in Weiser. She roamed the countryside for the first two years of her life. (Yes, HER name is Jake. It's weird, whatever.)

 Our life in the city for the past 5 years has been a stretch for her country girl ways. We would frequently have to address fencing issues after coming home to yet another escape.

When this all got too overwhelming for us- still trying to recover from the months of unemployment, moving into the new house, the boys getting back into sports, & her looking at me with those sad, sad eyes... we had to accept we were not the pet owners we wanted to be.

 

The idea of losing a her sent the whole family into a panic. Devastating to a few family members.

 But Jake had a happy ending. And that makes us happy, too. She was adopted by the most perfect couple. Their dogs are their kids. They live in the country and have a dog pool. And! They have welcomed our family to come visit Jake whenever.

 I swear she was smiling when they drove off. She will have the country life she loves and another dog to grow old with.

So much that I could say about this experience. So much I learned from that sweet mutt. This was not our plan, and letting go of our plan was difficult. Letting go is hard but sometimes holding on is harder, or like this quote I found on Oprah.com:

"Holding on is believing that there's only a past; letting go is knowing that there's a future."-Daphne Rose Kingma

storytime

 In the beginning of my 8th grade year at North Junior High in Boise, ID, I almost got my trash kicked. I was standing at my locker, all 70 pounds of bones in my too-big cheerleader uniform, when a very angry Krissy approached. Word around the preteen scene was that I had called her the B word. I was a very mouthy 13 year old but on this account I was innocent. We had a very heated discussion and then, as will happen with girls this age, walked away friends. In fact, Krissy remained one of my closest friends throughout my time at NJHS & later in high school. Krissy was a bad ass. She had a big, protective family with brothers & cousins. And somehow, I was in with them, too.
 Krissy still looks out for me. She checks in via Facebook & asks how the Seattle Experiment is going. She & I plan for a day when we can get her boys and mine together even though we are far apart for this season.

 When Matt's cousin was shot in the line of duty & all the what-ifs that I had tried not to think about Matt's line of work flooded in, I met another friend. She had been another active parent at the boy's school in Nampa & bonus points, she always had some fabulous accessory in her hair. Marcela was reeling from her own personal crisis but reached out to me. I call her Mafia, she is also a bad ass. She grew up in Nampa, in a bad part of town  (near Matt, actually) & is all the more street wise for it. Somehow she loves this still too mouthy white girl that is me.
 Marcela is a champion for me to not lose me in Mommyhood. She has now coined the phrase "Queen of the World Moment," meaning good self-care has to be a priority for us in raising kids. I never feel dumb sharing photos of what I'm wearing or how I did my hair with Marcela. She is always telling me not to lose my sparkle....or else ;)

 Fast forward to our life in the Emerald City. I have found friendship with a fierce little Italian woman who bosses me around & makes me try amazing pork products. (I love you, Ang!) She drags me out of the house on bad days with homeschool & takes me out to comfort food. She tells me her story of almost being killed in a car accident & coming out of a coma & the physical therapy she is still doing. It inspires me & pulls me out of my funk.

 My neighbor, Rhiannon is the kindest woman I've met up here but when our landlords were being too pushy, she cornered them & gave 'em the what for. She is always putting a glass of red wine in my hand & laughing with me about our kids last antics. She challenges me that my five year needs to wipe his own behind. (working on it!)

 I love a strong woman. I need loyal friends. It goes along with the idea Oprah talked about, that every woman needs a wife. Woman leaning on other women to get through this life. Like Sister Wives but not tabloid worthy. 

cast off

 The cast is off, peoples.

 Aden's arm looked so skinny & he said is felt really weird.

 Collin watched Team Umizoomi in the Doc's office. (who randomly, is SO HANDSOME.)

And then we stopped at Taco Time.  I've been told the very first Taco Time was in White Center, mere minutes from our West Seattle home!

expectations vs. reality

Almost a year has passed since our trek to the Pacific Northwest. That feels somehow significant to me. Like it is worthy of a balloon release or confetti toss. Also, it feels heavy with disappointment. A year ago I had such high hopes, and my! how the mighty have fallen.

I thought my super charismatic, competent, & qualified husband would have a job in a matter of weeks. It took more than 6 months.

I thought my sister & I would be up all night reliving funny childhood memories & cracking inside jokes. She is living in another part of the city & we see each other about once a month.

I thought we were going to join a community of believers at a thriving local church. We are not. (not ready to talk about this yet.)

I thought when we got qualified to buy a home & our lease was up, we would make the leap into Washington home ownership. In reality there is some kind of Spring buying craze going on in our area with multiple, above asking price offers being thrown in the ring. This kind of stress I find particularly toxic, I fear getting caught up in the panic & paying more than the house is actually worth.

I thought making new friends would be easy. It is not. I have discovered I am quite the introvert & being social is "work" for me. The vulnerability, the emotional risk of being the newbie is exhausting.

I thought we had found the perfect rental. It has been a good fit but as with anything, I find myself focusing on the garage that leaks or the lack of a dishwasher.

I thought we had good budgeting skills. The  cost of living in Nampa, I discovered, is 5% less than the national average. The cost of living in West Seattle is 45% higher than the national average. That is a 50% increase for us. No wonder my budget won't work.

I thought Matt & I would continue to date, with plenty of romantic fodder as we explored a new city together. We were spoiled with weekly dates in Idaho, now it is about once every other month. (Thank you Grandparents!)

I thought our venture into Virtual Academy would help with the public school burn out we were suffering from. The school has since changed Parker's teacher 3 times this year. (Did I tell you I wanted the boys in online school for stability???)

I thought I would keep up with Idaho friends through Skype & Facebook or emailing. A few of these dear friends have just had babies. New precious little ones I am missing out on!

So, if you are still reading this window into my soul, there you have it. On the up side this round of expectation vs. reality is hilarious, maybe I will laugh at mine later... much later.

storytime

Our story is unfolding in Seattle. We are coming up on a year since the big move & some things are coming into view. My friend & neighbor, Rhiannon encouraged me to blog about our goals in moving here. I like to think I am open to feedback, (I practically beg for it!) and then the universe plopped a foster kid in our home for the morning so I am taking the hint.

It all started with the idea of whether or not to send Collin to Kindergarten in the fall. He is nowhere near ready but a lot can happen in 5 months. Anyhow, Rhiannon was taking a tour of the local elementary school and invited me along this morning. We moved throughout the school, built in 1985 & smelling a bit of dirty feet, every square inch displaying the student's artwork. Our kids would be the minority at this school and as I was taking it all in, my heart swelled and rainbows shot all around my insides. This is it! This is why we moved.

It is still difficult for me to put words to but the story guiding us. We are experiencing new cultures, different lifestyles, and most important, more humanity. It is awkward, and scary, and JUST WHAT WE WANTED.

We walked out to our cars, raving about all the promising things going on in that old stinky school and are stopped by an middle-aged man asking if an 8th grade runaway boy could use my phone. The boy, Jacob, had been living on his own and sleeping in Metro buses for almost 2 weeks. The older gentleman was encouraging him to get ahold of his caseworker and get off the streets. Well, Rhiannon and I, both kick into "mom-mode," trying to help him but FAH-REAK-ING OUT inwardly. I ended up taking Jacob home, where Matt was, to figure something out. Matt knew what to do and we got Jacob where he needed to go but no easy "fix" for that situation, obviously.

And while I have a heavy heart about kids, not much older than my firstborn, finding themselves homeless, it was exactly what my boys needed to see. They all had a (much needed) perspective shift this morning. And that is the end game for all of us, I think. To see clearer, to love deeper, to stick in this together.

Potter's hands

I just finished the 1st Harry Potter book. I have long been a fan of the films but was too lazy to read the books. Throw in 10 weeks of unemployment, well there you go. The first book took me just a day & I loved every bit. Especially Dumbledore, wicked smart, that one.

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that."

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing that Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign...to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

" to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

Dumbledore

We have had without question, one of the hardest weeks of our lives. It was part of why I jumped into Harry's tortured world, to soothe myself. If you are a pray-er, we'll take some please. Double order, heavy on the grace.

aden

After 4 boys, 11 years, & countless injuries,
Aden finally broke our lucky no stitches streak.
He jumped of the bed & caught the toy box corner with his eyebrow. 

A few days later, those 3 stitches were healing up quite nicely,
but the bruising was more obvious.

My mom took Collin so I could join Aden on his Discovery Center field trip.
Here he is giving the weather forecast.

Shaking claws with T-Rex.

Mastering robotics.

And having lunch with his good friend, Connor.
Aden has had a terrific year in 1st grade.
I was so sad to hear his wonderful teacher is looping with the kids to 2nd grade
 & he will miss it. Those are some big shoes to fill.

Par-tay!

This little man had quite the birthday bash on Saturday.

From the looks of it, you would have thought it was Kaleb's big day. Joy just pours out of this kid.

I made my Pink Lemonade cupcakes for the big day, Josh was stroking my ego by consuming his 3rd on camera.

Showing Grandpa Ken the homemade hummus that Collin said was "poop." It is all about presentation, right?

Good Golly Miss Molly! She was hoping for a prince...

Sweet Sophie blowing bubbles.

The only party game I attempted was Hot Potato. The crowd was not easily corralled, though.

Birthday Boy hid in Grandma Annie's legs when it was cake time. Kind of funny, from the attention hound.

I found this guitar for Collin & asked Grandma Ellen to personalize it. It turned out so cool.

Great Grammy Fern with my parents.

A chance for Mama to get crafty & go all out for my baby boy. They say that at age three the brain reboots, meaning Collin will start to remember things. Wouldn't that be great if this was his first memory? Here's hoping it will be & not falling out of the shopping cart last week...uggh...