Good Enough

It was over six years ago that I held my first baby. I remember it hitting me so clearly in a way I could never comprehend before I had children…As I looked down at my beautiful baby boy the weight of the world came crashing down around my shoulders. I then realized what I had done to myself someone that I loved so deeply that I now couldn’t imagine life without him. With that realization came some fears that I had never before comprehended.

I was almost angry with myself when I realized that if some thing horrible ever happened to my son, it would be earth shattering. The thought was overwhelming. And honestly it made me rethink having anymore children.

In life there is balance in all things, and this new love that I had never felt before came new worries that as a brand new mom I almost couldn’t handle. What if he got sick? What if it was some thing terminal? What if he was kidnapped? Selfishly I wondered if it was smart of me to create some thing so precious that it would nearly kill me to have him taken away.

I’m a fatalist deep down inside, like my Grandmother. She’s been saying for the past five years that this is her last Christmas, or birthday, or it’s probably the last time she’ll get to visit with us before she passes on. Grandma is still going strong. Whether she likes it or not, she will be around for the next few great-grandchildren.

I watched a movie with my girls last night that reminded me of my little families mortality…which is really what brought about this post. I couldn’t help thinking throughout the movie what would happen to us if my husband died…my first thoughts were… “I don’t want to be out in the dating scene again!”  What would I put in my bio line? “I am now a widow with four children…will someone come swoop in and rescue us?”  That came because I’ve been searching for my little bro. And then other thoughts like, “there will never be anyone good enough to take his place.” Thinking about my husband and how absolutely perfect he is. Then my thoughts wandered to my children. I pictured all of their beautiful faces, and the pain they would hold if they ever lost their father, or me, or each-other.

I thought about mortality. With each child we bring into this family, it adds a new dimension. The love deepens. It’s a love that only parents know, we get to be in this special club with this intense emotion wrapped up in the package. I love my husband, I love him fiercely. But we would never know how intense love could be until we took that leap of faith and added a child into the mix.

I can’t help questioning my sanity sometimes as I look at my children and think about the new one coming, why did I do this to myself? I will have four precious jewels that can never be replaced and are extremely fragile. Am I crazy for adding one more into my life that will probably add more pain and worry then someone in their right mind could handle. Maybe I am. But I realize that there is balance in all things. With another child comes even more love and more joy then I can ever put into words. I know you people feel me on this one. If I let my fears of death and pain stop me from creating what I have in my life now, I would have never known such happiness. It’s so worth it.  

All too often I find myself daydreaming about the day Mr.Good will finally strike it rich. He’s an entrepreblahblah…I don’t want to even try and spell it. He’s a business owner! He’s a carpenter, and has a hardwood supply company as well. 

It’s been about a year now since we embarked on this journey of business ownership. I’ve realized it is not for the faint of heart. And while I’m pretty much a wimp when it comes to the heart department I do have a sense of adventure. This has been one crazy ride!

I admire my husbands work ethic, and his talent. I like knowing there is no one to tell him how much he can make per year, and when he can and cannot take a day off. I take comfort in the fact that there is no one for him to answer to, or belittle him.

I grew up watching my dad face the white collar world, day after day. Nothing was ever concrete for him. I couldn’t even tell you exactly what he did for a living or what his job title was. I knew my dad worked hard and his job was stressful. He also made frequent trips around the world. I saw him leave early in the morning in a suit and tie and come home late at night. Now that I’m older, I’m finding out just how mean and abusive some of those big bosses were. And my dad put up with it for the sake of his family. It breaks my heart to think what people go through to make livings for their families. 

By contrast my husband dons his shorts and tennis shoes. He comes home with sawdust in his hair and paint stains on his hands. I know what he does.  He never has to leave the county for his work. While times are tough now, there is reassurance that the future holds smoother sailing.

It’s been a hard year, I’m not going to lie. There have been some setbacks. There have been months when I didn’t know where the grocery money would come from, and I couldn’t put gas in the van. But we have always found a way. I’m sure there will be times ahead that are similar before the road gets a little smoother. I have had to put complete faith in my husband. He sees the potential of what he’s doing, his vision is one that includes plenty of time for his family, and all the comforts we could want. He hasn’t led us astray yet. When the money is tight I just close my eyes and dream of the simple things I’m going to spend some money on when he does bring home those big paychecks. A facial, a trip to Costco, and some yoga classes. That is what I’m looking forward to. I know. I’m a simple girl. 

What do you want when your ship comes in?

I am by nature nocturnal.

There is a certain peace and clarity  I feel when the sun goes down and everyone else goes to bed. I lay here in the very room my husband grew up in…staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his popcorn ceiling. The window is open, the crickets are chirping.  Their song is trying to compete with the hum of my baby-monitor. Ideas, concerns, memories, all flowing around in my head like an obscure independent film.

I enjoy this time of solitude and reflection.

8 more days… 

I remember the first time I saw this room…I was 23, he was 22. He introduced me to his parents and asked if I wanted to come upstairs. It was all very odd to me. He WAS 22 and still living with his parents. He asked me to come upstairs to his room in front of them. That would never fly if I was living at home.

He played his Jackson 5 record for me…I sat on his fold out bed. His room was of course, a mess. I think there were Tarzan pillowcases on his bed.

That night we went on our first date…Loose Change premiered at a club down in Newport Beach. He had connections and got us in for free. I met Lisa Anderson while we were there. As if that wasn’t enough we went on to a local battle-of-the-bands where our friend was competing with his group “Tang.” Those were the days.

It was such a fun, relaxing date…until we said good night at the door. I was so nervous that’d he’d ruin the night by trying to kiss me. So I gave him a “long hug.” He interpreted my “long hug” as “she wants a kiss.”  So he tried.

He was denied. Of course. What kind of girl do you think I am.

All turned out right because 7 years later here I am staring at the stars he put on his ceiling so many years ago.

8 more days!

I will always be able to say I made at least one really wise decision in my life.

I had this feeling about him, he wasn’t what I thought I wanted…but he was so much more. I’m sorry ladies. I wish I could duplicate him and hand him out one for each of you. I can honestly say he is the best dad I have ever known. He comes home after a tough day of running his own cabinetry business, which is hard physical work, and he never hesitates to take the kids and play. He loves his children so much…and it’s so easy to see. This is what’s sexy to me.

I need to mention that this Father’s Day is also our 7th Anniversary.  I definately don’t have the rumored “7 year itch” people sometimes talk about. I know what’s out there, I’ve seen it. I’m more than pleased with my selection in marriage, and sometimes I wonder why I deserve him.

Of course other times I remind him of why he deserves me!

Happy Everything Honey. Thanks for putting up with this rambuncious family.

Do things have a tendency to disappear around your house?

And no, I’m not speaking of goods like this, I know exactly where these have gone…

I’m specifically inquiring about these items, the three that my husband or I have trouble locating from time to time.

Take the time, for instance, four years ago. Buster was a mere toddler then, and Husband and I lived with the in-laws. Yes, it was a joyous time in our lives.
One day Husband’s wallet went missing. What a surprise! He was not able to find it for many months. You can imagine the bantering that took place. He insisted his wallet had to be somewhere in the house. I insisted it was a lost cause, probably in a garbage dump somewhere, and that he needed to replace his Driver’s License and other items. I think he was just about to give up and see it my way when Lee, his mother, decided to redo her flower garden. She spent the entire day pulling up all these sword ferns that had been there for years.  What should appear after she finished her task? Husbands wallet. Covered in mud, it had definitely been buried by some chubby little hands. We both had a good laugh, but wondered when little Buster ever had the chance to bury that wallet? I only had one child at the time and we were constantly together. Especially in the front yard.

Then yesterday, Sunday afternoon… we had finished lunch, church, all the crazy tasks of the day and agreed we all wanted to relax together in front of a family film.

We could not find the remote. I know this happens in every family, but ours always turns up eventually. We tore the living room apart looking for it. Along with the children. We were very puzzled and I have a tendency to blame my sweet husband for it. He did have it last. He was up late on Saturday evening playing Xbox. He was the one who saw it last, alive…we never found it that day. However it is important to note that as we were going to bed that evening he pointed out that he had my keys and was placing them on our bedroom drawers.  In the back of my mind was this little nagging voice that said “He has my keys! He’s going to lose them!” But I was ready for bed and not about to get up and put them back in my purse.

So this morning my son was a tad late to school, but I was determined to make it there quickly, he would be in time for his gym class. Low and behold my keys were not on the drawers! I looked around quickly and  carefully before I called up poor hubby to begin bawling him out. “Where are my keys!”  I asked as soon as he answered his phone.

“On the drawers! You saw me put them there!”

 ”I knew I shouldn’t have let you handle them you have a losing keys curse on your hands!”

“Did you look everywhere?”

 ”Yes I’ve looked and am looking everywhere…No Keys There, No Keys There, and No Keys There! They are officially lost! Buster is late for school and there’s no milk in the house!” (I’m laughing now but this was Oh So Serious this morning.) 

 ”Well I’ll come bring you some keys.”

We parted amiably and Buster piped up. “Mom I know where the keys are. Bubba came and threw them at me this morning. There in my room in front of my laundry basket!”

Sure enough they were. I called the Husband and apologized. Wait, did I apologize or just tell him they were found? Probably the later.

So Buster made it to school in the middle of P.E. and I got some milk. After arriving home and sitting down to my e-mails little Missy came walking over with her Hello Kitty purse and pulled out THE REMOTE! All she said was “Here you go, sorry mom.” And walked away.

ARE THEY CONSPIRING AGAINST US?

I think so. And I apologize to my husband. I know I always blame you honey, I’m sorry. Never again. From now on I will corral the little ducklings together and interrogate them till someone talks! 

• I’d be a backup dancer~ I still try to shake my groove thing when no one is watching. Sometimes I get caught. Like the time I was attempting the Robot, in the kitchen. Husband walked in while I was doing that pose, you know the one where your elbow is cocked in the air and your forearm swings like its a loose hinge?  If you didn’t get all that, if ever we two should meet, I’ll demonstrate.  Well he walked in and caught me. I jumped, squeaked, and cover my face like he would just disappear if I didn’t see him.  He’s never let me live that day down.
• I’d be a photographer for National Geographic.  And I would write. I used to think I’d marry the writer, not that Husband can’t write but I’m a tad controlling.  I’d of course take his input and “use what I could.” He would just be there with me in the throws of the jungle, lest I was hit on by the pygmies, or something.
•  Maybe I would have a few more triathlons under my belt, maybe not. One in each state.
• Become an anthropologist, and study different tribes in Africa through living with them for years until they accepted me as one of their own. I’d write books about it. I’d be a specialist. Everyone would want me on their talk shows.
• perhaps I’d live on a sailboat, and moor at different places around the world.
•  maybe I’d try out for Reality Television
• maybe I’d be so popular on that show that I’d become some T.V. Host for an obscure cable channel.
• I’d join the Peace Corps

I used to think that if I was old, I couldn’t enjoy traveling.  I think maybe seeing my Grandma pull over at one too many rest stops put the fear in me.  But I felt such a panic to get out and do and see everything before gravity got a hold of me.

I’m realizing now that there are still time for those dreams in my future.  Who DOESN’T want to see a 50 year old back-up dancer at a Gwen Steffani concert?  And I’m really looking forward to traveling with the Husband. He’s never been past the North American continent. He’ll be a great traveling companion, and perhaps the pygmies will still try and hit on me in 20 years.

I am grateful for being out of the rat race. I worked for a great corporation in my twenties but I remember feeling a bit like a mouse on a wheel. (Hence the “rat race” Eve. Duh! and, does anyone say duh anymore?) But seriously, I wasn’t cut out for it. I knew I was just making money to spend it, then make it again. I had no drive to move up the chain. I didn’t want more stress or responsibility.

Although my worries now have the capacity to be the worst they could ever be, like the loss or sickness of a child or spouse, my joys have that same potential.  I wouldn’t understand how happy I could be, if I didn’t have my kidlets. I know I sound sentimental. And maybe one would think that my excitement over my toddler’s first exclamation of “mommy, I poopoos” is only because my day to day life has no other real thrill in it. That could possibly be true.

I like to think of it as I helped create this life and I’m taking this journey with them. I’m  learning to communicate for the first time, through them. I’m seeing the world through these fresh eyes. All three pairs of them. Suddenly that other stuff is comparatively not as exciting.

My 5 year old has never seen “The Ranch” before. We’re going there in 2 weeks. To him that is as thrilling as me travelling to the Great Wall of China. 

One might expect a conversation during with 3, five and under mindless drivel. But I get to hear comments like “If a human is friends with a rhinoceros, it might not turn out so well.” FRESH CONCEPTS! I’m tellin’ ya!

Spaghetti dinner, I’ve had it many times in my life. My children devour it like it’s sugar coated.  And really they’ve only had it a mere 260, 156 and 78 times in their life as oposed to my 1560. It’s also one of the few meals all three agree on and there is a certain satisfaction in nourishing another human life. 

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, out of all the things I’ve done, and all that I could be doing, my wisest choice was to marry a sweet man and raise some kids. I know in the end my joy will be full.  

I smile.

I really do.

Things that make me smile?

When I ask my husband “will you do something for me?”

and he replies “I’d do anything for you.”

Mmmmhmmm…smiling

my gals…

totally smiling.

Costco sized shopping carts where all kids chill while I spend to my hearts content…

oh yeah, that makes me smile.

my private stash of never ending goodness…

just try to wipe this grin off my face!

Sara  inspired the contest and Chris brought on this next bit so blame her!

Hubby’s a hotty
He looks like a teenager
I don’t think that’s bad

He puts up with me
Never hesitates to change
A dirty diaper

Entrepreneur
It’s hard work being “the man”
Thanks for everything

Really what I want to ask is for a cheesy Haiku on why your husband is the most beautiful.

Tag you’re it…and pictures if you dare!

I believe her name is Jane, but I can’t be 100% certain, as the only name I’ve ever seen is mamadoggylove.  I love her blogs and asked her for some questions…here they are…

1) You are one of six kids. Where do you fall in the order and what were your favorite/least favorite things about growing up with so many siblings?

     My mom and dad had seven children, the fourth, my little brother, passed away in infancy. I am number two, but the first girl. That naturally makes me the second mommy in the house. I LOVED having a large family.  I would love to have a large family but I don’t feel as capable to handle it mentally, and I often feel discouraged as to why my three are such a handful for me, and why can’t I be more like my mom?      

          What did I love most about having a large family? The games, the constant playmates, the imaginative ideas we had that just grew into these wonderful days of tee-pee making, and fort building.  Digging holes in the tall grass and covering them up so someone would fall in. Baseball. Water fights. Little sisters trusting me to chop off their hair, and then hiding the cut hair in the closet so Mom wouldn’t notice. Get togethers now where we remember fun stories. Knowing if I really need something I have quite a few people to call. 

        What was the downfall of having a big family? I really can’t say, from my perspective.  I had privacy, food, not the best clothes, but that builds character. Maybe I was lucky. The younger ones complain about things, like not enough attention and not being noticed.  I wonder, did I just not need more attention? My older brother was 1 year older, my younger brother was 1 year younger, we were always together, but I never felt the lack of attention. I don’t think they did either.  The three younger girls, we would lump them together and call them “the little girls.”  “Where’s my hat?”  “You left it in the little girls room.”  They all had this huge bonus room and the older three, we all had our own rooms. I don’t think they liked it. But still to this day, especially now that I’m the only girl with kids in my family, I  feel a little left out of “the little girls” and their relationship with eachother. 

      Is that too much? I really could talk about my family all day long.  

2) You mentioned that you love reality t.v. Which can you absolutely not live without and why? 

     I think I could live without them all and it would be better for me if they did not exist. Then I would have more time for the important stuff, like blogging. :)  I think if I had to name the one I couldn’t get enough of it was the whole Laguna Beach/The Hills.  I don’t know why. The girl drama is just too intriguing for me. I always want the nice girl to finish first and everyone to get what’s coming to them.

3) You and your husband met at a surf shop… you said it wasn’t love at first sight. How and when did you know he was The One?

   Oh Hubby, he’s so sweet. He is the nice guy. I guess what needs to be revealed is that I had a “previous marriage.”  I’ll wait for the gasps to die down. Yes everyone I had a previous marriage, to a High-school sweetheart, it turned out to be not so sweet, surprise, surprise. We were both very young.  So I left that relationship with the knowledge of what I DIDN’T want.  I didn’t want someone young,  and inexperienced. I wanted someone that could buy me a house right away, someone that was wise to the world, but very good at the same time.

Hubby looked like he was 19. He was always blushing, and a little nervous, and awkward. My roommate was always asking why I was dating him. I kept saying it was just for fun and soon I would have to break the poor boy’s heart. He told me he loved me after three weeks. I had to end in soon after that, I just knew it. And I tried to tell him I might never feel the same. He then did something very smart, he gave me permission to break his heart. He said he could handle whatever happened. After that I didn’t feel any pressure from him.  It was very easy to fall in love with him, he was different than all the other boys out there. He was genuine. There were no games between us, and we were engaged after two months of dating. Married after a total of 7 months. Never have I regretted it. I often wonder if he got more than he bargained for. But he loves me despite myself. It’s wonderful to feel this comfortable in a relationship. It will be 7 years this June.

4) What brought you and your family to Seattle from Southern California, and do you think you will live there for a long time?

      My husband was born and raised in Orange County, CA. He’s never lived anywhere else. Every-time we came up to Seattle to visit the family he joked about moving here. Then finally one Christmas he told me that sometimes he just felt stupid for living in California when he felt there was so much more for a middle-income family up here. He’s very brave and hard working, he took the leap and started his own Cabinetry bbusiness up here. He also bought a hard wood supply shop. So he has a lot on his plate. It was a tough decision, but even though I have always in my heart wanted to live in California for the rest of my life, I knew it was right. And I’m very proud of him.  I think we’ve made it through the roughest patch of the transition.  

5) We share a disdain for house cleaning. If there was ONE house chore that you never had to do ever again, what would it be and why?

     BATHROOM! It grosses me out.  I have to put on gloves and keep my head very far away form the grossness. Yes that is a word.  I think it will only get worse as my young grow into teenagers. (Although, by then they can clean it!)

So thanks Mama! And anyone who’s actually finished reading this very long winded post.  But I guess that’s what is so nice about having your very own blog. 

If anyone else wants an interview, I’ll come up with some questions for you.  Just let me know in the comment section.  

Although I would love to make  the type of this post bigger at the request of some readers, alas, I don’t know how, which goes to show my ineptitude when it comes to anything technological.

I just returned from vacation.

Are you jealous? You should be, I left the kids behind with grandma.

I have inferred that we recently moved from Southern Cali where I have lived peacefully for the past 8 years to rainy Seattle. My husband grew up down there, and that is where I hoped to remain, but we’re are here, and making the best of it. 

Hubby is a surfer, it’s part of who he is and why I love him. I’ve been obsessed with surf culture since I was about 12 years old. I subscribed to Surfer Magazine as a youngster and would pour over the pages with much enthusiasm, vowing that I would learn someday, and that only someone who knew how to would be a good enough man to marry.

It just so happens I met my husband in a surf shop, while buying some racks for my car. It wasn’t love at first sight, but he did give me a discount on those racks, and six months later we were dating, then seven months after that we were married.  

We want to keep that culture alive and decided after the horrible winter we had that we needed a surf adventure.

Hubby has been reading about where to go, and we found a spot on the Oregon coast that is said to have the best waves on the west coast…so for my very first guest blogger, my husband, risking his life, to tell you about the Oregon waves…

Rumor has it that Seaside Oregon is home to one of, if not the best left point break on America’s west coast. The challenge of the wave goes beyond the size, power, and rocks associated with the wave. Sightings of Great White sharks are common. In fact, someone was attacked by a Great White just last Christmas. 

The local surf crowd is also cause concern for a visiting surfer. To help a non-surfer understand this point you would have to understand what localism means. Localism= preventing visitors from surfing the break you grew up surfing. Localism is manifest in acts of vandalism on a visitors car, surrounding a visitor in the water and preventing them from catching waves, threatening a visitors life and even attempting to make good on those threats.

So why surf Seaside instead of going somewhere else? It is a beautiful town with plenty to keep a family busy, and plenty of world class surf to keep a surfer very happy. As for my experience, I had a fantastic time. Each person I met while surfing was polite and friendly. The surf was 6-10 foot at the point and even though it was stormy, the shape held up and provided an excellent surfing experience. There is a beach break for beginners and the point for surfers who are ready for a challenging juicy wave. Cleanline Surfshop and Seaside Surf Shop both provided me with quality rental gear and were run by quality individuals that gave me all the info I needed about the area to make it a memorable experience. All and all I can see why the locals want to keep this little gem for themselves.

Thanks honey…might I add that while the boys were surfing the wives went to a wonderful day spa called Day Spa on Broadway (www.dayspaonbroadway.net).  I think it’s the only spa in town, though if any others show up they’ll have some tough competition on their hands. It was hands down the best facial I’ve ever had, given by an Australian named Wendy Camden. She was gentle, yet excellent, and I left with a glow that stayed on my skin for days. 

We also went to the best restaurant I have ever eaten at, in a beautiful “one light town” to the north. Gearhart. The restaurant was Pacific Way Cafe, it’s a French Bistro in a quaint building off of Pacific Way, and it ruined me for any other eats on the rest of the trip. I recommend this to any one planning a Seaside adventure.

There is something for everyone in this little town, and even when it’s raining, as it often does in the North West, there is plenty to do. I had a great time, and I feel ready to take on whatever the little ones can literally throw at me!