Good Enough

So tonight my sweet friends are throwing me a shower…I have mixed feelings.

I love spending time with my friends, I love any reason to celebrate, and I believe that every child should have it’s own welcoming, in some way.

But contrary to my younger years, I do not like being the center of attention. I don’t like people feeling obligated that they need to buy me a present (especially with child #4) and it’s most embarrassing when I have to sit in front of everyone and open those presents.

This week my friends have been asking me what I need…I don’t know what to tell them. I do have needs for this baby, but not exactly the type of trinkets you expect to arrive at a baby shower. I’m horrible at telling people what I need.

Hence the beauty of the Internet. I can type away and pretend no one that is coming reads my blog and I can put this out there…and if you are coming, pretend you didn’t read this, and never mention it to me. It’s much funner to blog in anonymity.

I need my house deep cleaned and organized…(something I would never want people besides family to experience.)

I need a breast pump…(again not exactly something I want the group too purchase.)

I want my husband to finish the loft bed he’s building and I need to reorganize the kids rooms.

I want a rocking chair. One of those big, cushy, Pottery Barn style pick your fabric, fabulous rocking chairs…I’m embarrassed to admit it. It sounds so materialistic to me.

But it’s my FOURTH CHILD! Can I have something that will last? I envision many years to come cuddling on such a chair.

A girl can dream.

I realize I’m sounding SO ungrateful! My two bestest friends are putting themselves out to throw this party for me, which makes me feel even more inadequate. Really I’m looking forward to hanging out with everyone, and I’m honored they would take time out of busy summer scheduling to hang out with me, but I can’t help but be a little nervous for this.

Update: the shower was, of course, lovely. I feel so lucky to have so many loving friends close by. It wasn’t that awkward, and Kathrynmade sure I got the present thing over first which was good because then I wasn’t stressing the whole party.  My friend Kati made so much food (she said she was only cooking for one afternoon but it would have taken me at least 2 days to do what she did.)  I could go on about how fun and sweet and relaxed everyone was, but you knew it was going to be that way didn’t you? Anyway, thanks,  I’m touched and it was so much fun.

Enough already! Anyone that reads my blog can tell I’m a little bit drama. Okay, a lot drama. Not something I’m proud of. I envy those strong women that rarely shed a tear. I know quite a few of them. I often keep them in my circle of friends, to ground me, to remind me that it’s not all that bad. I also surround myself with some cryers so I don’t feel so crazy.

So I cried about my first born last Thursday. Today I wake up to a mean e-mail in my inbox that left me crying all morning, jumping to conclusions about she said/she said. I spent the morning on the phone apologizing, inquiring, and blubbering. Really it wasn’t all that bad when I got right down to the bottom of it. I’m so furious with myself for wasting my morning crying. Especially since once I start it’s hard to stop no matter what conclusions I come to. And to all those ladies that I wept to, (you blessed angels) thanks for not judging me. I’m really over the incident.

I hope I can blame part of my dramatics on pregnancy? I have to stop embarassing myself with this stuff. I hope I’m not this way before and after my babies although it’s hard to remember at the moment. Please bless. Because I really can’t stand myself with puffy red eyes. It makes all my blemishes even more apparent.

17 days…17 days and counting…

WHAT THE FLUFFY PUPPY IN A CHILD’S LUVIN ARMS WAS I THINKING?!!!

Last night as we lay in bed Mr.Good and I realized what a terrible idea it was to seperate our family for this long. 17 days. We haven’t been apart for that amount of time since my first born was 7 months old.

I know what I was thinking at the time, that it would be fine because we would be immersed in summertime activities, surrounded by friends and family, the kidlets wouldn’t even noticed Daddy’s absense. I certainly wouldn’t notice his absense…And it would be so nice for him? Right? He could get SO much accomplished. He wouldn’t have to be home from his self-owned and opperated business. He’s been mentioning lately that there never seems enough time in the day for family AND work. This was going to be such a WIN/WIN situation.

And then last night we didn’t want it to happen.

“Let’s just forget this whole thing and drive home together tomorrow?” I asked.

He just laughed.

“Let’s just NOT ever do this again.” he said.

So he left. He’s gone. I think he may even have landed by now. Funny how a 20 hour drive turns into a 2 1/2 plane trip.
And here I sit, in an empty house, not really wanting to return to my in-laws. I feel more lonely there without him.

I’m sure it will turn out right, I’m sure that we will have a great time…but I’m needy. I’ll admit it. I love having a husband that comes home at a decent hour everyday.

But I digress. As a sit here I notice that I forgot to use deodorant and that is not admissable in the balmy weather.

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My stomach is feeling extra squishy today.  I don’t think that travel was kind to me. Yet here I am not even three days left before We hightail it out for another adventure.

It seems like the whole world has had at least one road trip before my family heads out on ours. It feels like the whole world has complained about driving anywhere from 8 hours to 15. I guess in my crazy competitivness I have decided to go the distance no family dare travel with three young children.

That’s right! We are traveling not 8, not even 15, but 22 hours straight with few stops in a minivan with three young children.  I don’t even want…I just need. I need to head back to where the pavement is abundant, and the trees are sparse.  I’m craving some ocean air tinged with that lovely Southern California smog. I will sacrifice my sanity and sleep for 22 hours straight to be able to feel those UV rays shine abundantly on my skin.

I know I’ve mentioned TOO many times that I was born to be a Southern California girl. I’ve a pit in my stomach when I think of what the Washington winters hold for me this year. I’m scared. Last year left me crying, begging to go back to the land I love.

Western Washington is deceiving. It’s SO amazingly gorgeous in the summer and fall, one can almost forget what the winter may hold.

And why am I waiting till August to go? It seemed the most convenient. We had events, family in town, and then a wedding down there. I’m staying for four weeks. I have to make it worth that 22 hour drive.  When I get back there will be no down time before my 6 year old transitions into a full day of first grade. I’m a little frightened for him.

After August there is nothing but anxiety for me.

I have to get this together people. I have to do it right this year! Get me a generator for the next winter storms…get me a schedule where I’m not waking Buster up at the last minute for school. (Note to self…Buster had exactly 15 tardies last year. What does that say about me?)  I have to make sure he’s got clean clothes by morning and a lunch packed the night before.

Do I sound a bit frantic? I don’t even want to think about what’s coming my way after August…I need to enjoy this trip.
 

There’s been a lot of chit chat about neighbors lately…it’s a subject that is about as controversial as you’ll see me get.

 We live on a large pice of land that feels like an island. Ours was built in the beginning of time and housing developments sprung up around it. So I can see the back yards of about ten properties from my solitary back porch…

 We moved to this part of town in October. I really had the impression that the neighbors never used their backyards, although there were clues of the backyards seeing better days. In one there is an abandoned children’s fort…in another there is a small plastic basketball hoop. But from October till July I have never seen any living thing so much as set foot into those backyards save one small white dog who is only let out to do his business. Upon finishing he immediately runs back inside.  I started to take it a little personally. We do have the best sledding hill in our yard, so we were out there all winter. No one ever approached us to join in the fun. During the three weeks of nice weather we’ve had this “summer” we bust out a homemade slip-in-slide that goes all the way down the hill.

One night prior to the 4th of July I heard strange noises and music coming from the vicinity of our backyard…as I look over my balcony I came to the strange realization that we really do have nieghbors. They were there, in the flesh, behaving like human beings. Bar-b-queing. having friends over, listening to music. Granted this meant I would have to cover up a little more when I walked outside, if this was going to be a regular summertime occurrence. The next Sunday the people directly behind us were out at 8 am! I was a little shocked as I walked outside to let the dog out in my skivvies! I didn’t know they had children! In this case it seems to be A CHILD. That they only let out once a year, on his birthday, to play a little t-ball. Honestly, that’s the only time he’s been let out! I know! We’re out there rain, snow, or the less frequent shiny day. And the other people with the pre-fourth of July party? We’ve never seen them since that day.

Granted we live in the not-so-sunny Northwest, and this year has been abnormally rainy. When we had a short period of sunbursts I could hear the sounds of families actually using their yards, and playing outside till it got dark, which in these parts is around 10 at night. But that was short lived. The rain has come back and the families have all retreated to their caves. I don’t know how they do it.  I need to be outside…and I’m learning to enjoy the rain. When it rains here in the summer, it’s not cold, so we go and sit on our covered porch and watch the kids playing in the downpours. It’s quite refreshing. 

Here’s the thing…I kind of like it this way. I like that I don’t know my neighbors, that I don’t see them, and that they don’t use their backyards. Maybe I want to be able to walk around sans the clothing? I’m just saying…Then again maybe I’ve been jilted by the experience of living in Town-homes, where we all live so close together…and I kept my blinds closed in the hopes no one would know how I TRULY kept house. In Town-homes, you never know when someone will “drop by” and there is always those children you just don’t want your kids to play with. Since you can’t single them out and look rude, it’s easier not to play with any of the neighborhood children, and just outsource for friends.

That’s my philosophy in all things people. I made a comment on Kathryn’s blog that I can’t choose my neighbors, but I can choose my friends…and what if I unknowingly made friends with a pyscho neighbor lady and then I couldn’t get rid of her? You all know what I’m talking about and have had those experiences.

One of my friends made a comment that “you can never be ‘best friends’ with a neighbor.” I pondered that and asked her why. She replied that the neighbor would see all your comings and goings, and it would be hard to have a get-together without them, as there would be hurt feelings.  I suddenly realized what she was trying to say and wondered if I’d ever been the neighbor that was hard to shake?

After all, I am the friend that will drop by un-anounced on a Sunday afternoon because we were bored (sorry Katie.) I have even walked in on some family parties (yes Jen I’m talking about yours.)  So if I have ever been that kind of neighbor, I apologize. Please put me in my place.

 Neighbors to have their place…in times of emergency I would like to know that my neighbors were kind and ready to help out if something horrible happened. But that’s about where it ends for me. Call me a snob, call me paranoid…I don’t care…I just look at myself as “sadder, yet wiser.”  And anyway, it won’t be long now before we’re in the throws of winter again. (Sad but true.) And every man woman and child will crawl back into their dwelling, and we won’t open the windows again until next July.

Where do you stand with your neighbors?
 

Ladies and Gentlemen, the time is drawing nye, I know you all are sick are hearing about BlogHer but right now it is haunting my dreams…

I’m beginning to feel that they’re going to smell me out for the poser I am! I do feel like a poser. I’m riding on the coat tails and kindness of Kathryn, who knows the ins and outs of this counter culture.

I’m used to counter culture, I went to school on Capital Hill in Seattle, I married a surfer, I listen to punk rock when I have the occasion. But this world? This world of blogging I know very little about.

“That’s why you’re going!”    I know…I know…but I’m going to have to be social…which is easy for me to do on smaller scales. But I’m out of practice. If everyone would bring their kids then I could start in the traditional way I’ve been getting to know people….

“Oh how old is your daughter? She’s adorable! My daughter is three. Oh isn’t this age interesting?” Blah blah blah…do you see what I’m saying? Have I lost the art of schmoozing in my six years of mommyness? We shall see all too soon.

My room will be linked to seasoned proffesionals such as this and this. They are going to see right through me and my laptop that I hope to borrow from my little sis…(Can I please borrow your laptop Sunshine Girl? I haven’t even asked you yet but I’m kind of desperate.)

And then I can envision myself sitting in some technical class, next to strangers, in this huge room. Every one is typing away on their laptops…and I can’t get in to mine (if I even have one) because I forgot how to, so I pull out…A PAPER NOTEBOOK, AND PEN! Dun dun dunnnn…and everyone turns and looks at me and gasps…then silence, and then (sniff sniff) THEY LAUGH ME OUT OF THE CONFERENCE! WWAAAAAHHHHHH!!! And I run crying to my hotel room and curl up under the covers and hide…

This could soon become reality folks. I’ve never asked much of y’all before but in all seriousness…remember me in your prayers.

I will not be mentioning this subject again as I think I’m beginning to develope an ulcer.

Last night I was up late, but not by choice.

My husband has his own cabinetry business. His employee quick before a huge deadline. He’s been working long and late hours.  Last night was no different.

I’ve described my chateau, it’s old, rickety, and has many windows. When my husband is gone for the evening I make sure and lock everything up and draw the blinds. But not last night. Last night I had a sitter until about 10pm…she happened to be my sister. I walked her to her car and returned to the house.

An hour and a half later my baby woke up with a dirty diaper. I changed him and put him back down.  Just then my dog began to bark furiously. She doesn’t bark very often.  I went to the top of the stairs to see if my husband was home. It was then that I noticed the front door was open! My husband was not home. His truck was not in the driveway. I reached down the stairs and slammed the front door shut and went back to the top. My dog was still barking. She kept barking from the top of the stairs, and the hair on her spine was stiff and straight.

I remembered my cell phone was downstairs…it had all my numbers in it. Who was I going to call? I only have two numbers memorized. My husband’s cell and of course 911. My husband was working 20 minutes away. I did have a phone line which we rarely use in my room. I was debating calling to police. We live in a sleepy town and surely they had the time to come do a little perimeter check for any “perps.” 

I went into my room leaving my door open and all the upstairs lights on. My dog did not move from her position atthe top of the stairs. And she was growling. So who was I going to call? Although I didn’t want to interrupt my husbands work, I was hesitant to call 911.

I called my husband. Of course he laughed and said it was probably just a deer. It was not a deer! I insisted. “Give me 20 more minutes here,” he asked. “I’m almost finished.”  

“okay…”  I tried to be brave but my mind was racing. 20 minutes at work, 20 minutes to drive home. 40 minutes! To many scenarios could take place in that amount of time. What would I do to the intruder if he got past my dog? I looked around for the large wooden bat we kept for such instances. We watch the movies! Everyone has baseball bats by their beds. This one happened to be an original Louisville Slugger. Very sturdy. But it wasn’t doing me much good now because I could not find it. I really wanted to shut my door and lock it, but the children were all sleeping snug in their beds, down on the other end of the hallway.  I had to keep an eye on them as well.   

Missy was having a nightmare. I could hear her crying in her room. I willed her to stop. “Shhhh…quiet now. Mommy can’t come get you.” I was trigger happy. Ready to call the police at the slightest noise.

Well I did hear some bumps and thumps. They were coming from downstairs. My heart was pounding through my chest! I know I’m a chicken at night but this was the worst it’s ever been.

Dog, still barking at the top of the stairs. Missy is fake crying now. I called my husband again.

“Get home now or I will call the police.”

“5 more minutes?”

“I’m serious, I’m really scared.”

“okay.”

He arrived home about 30 minutes later. I was in bed. Lights all blaring. Phone at my fingertips. I was very happy to see him.

He took the dog out and they checked the perimeter. He gave the all clear, and I was finally able to go to sleep. What a night. I’ll be glad when Husband gets his project done.

Hello again, my site is under construction, hopefully there will be some other nice changes coming soon.

Something happened today that shocked me at first.  I’ve been living in this little bubble, a boy bubble, as I see it. My oldest is only 5 and is male…many of my friends have girls his age, and they play together nicely. He’s always unaffected by the little girl drama that is going on around him. Occasionally he’ll ask me about their behaviour, and I try to explain the mystery that is womanhood. He tries to understand. And I try to help him understand that he’ll never fully understand. :) 

He also has little boy friends who he plays with. He plays with them like little boys do, and occasionally he gets into squirmishes  but you know, “boy wills be boys.”  There is comfort in that for me. I’ve seen how girls play first hand, and I have to say that I’m scared for my daughter. She has been raised in a boy bubble.  In her three years on this earth her world has been big brother, little brother, and big brother’s friends. It’s really fun to watch her try and keep up with them. I think she can hold her own. She understands Power Rangers, but of course she always gets to play the Pink Ranger. She’s the hugest Star Wars fan. I didn’t know she even understood Star Wars, but I recently unpacked The Trilogy (IV, V, and VI) put one on for the kids, and there she was, cheering when Chewbacca appeared,  and calling Ben Kenobi Obe One. I was amazed and secretly I cheered.

She has recently been playing with some girls her age.  I will not name names, but she has been introduced to the world of necklaces and purses.  She has lately been requesting that her brother be the “keen” and she be the princess.  I have tried to avoid all things “princess” for three years.  But the one thing I’ve been dreading the most in girl world, it happened today in my own home.

I was watching my friend’s little girl, Sara. She, Missy, and Buster were playing quite nicely. Then I heard the dreaded words “You’re not my friend anymore.” I realized this was Sara talking at my daughter. And then she took it further…”Only Nancy and Sasha are my friends. You’re not my friend.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

NO! Those words are not allowed in my house! I have seen this drama on the playground between familiar groups of girls. I’ve pitied the mothers who have to sort it all out.  I honestly don’t want my daughter to learn that behaviour.

And I had forgotten.  Maybe I pushed it all out of my mind. But in that moment when I heard those words it brought it all back. This is what girls do to each-other.  We are manipulative creatures! And someday in the very near future my daughter will approach me, devastated. Not because of a boy, but because a girl, a friend, no less, has BROKEN her heart and decided that she is no longer her friend!

She didn’t even get it today! Those words has no meaning, no impact on her! She doesn’t know they were meant to hurt her. That’s how I would love to keep it. I would much rather her suffer a bump on the head or bruise on the shin from a lite saber gone awry then those daggers a young miss could throw at her.

And I know the best that I can do is give her self-esteem so the words can deflect a little better, and I pray that she’s more of a leader that includes everyone in her games…

But for now, I think I’ll stick to boy play-dates!