A Random Look Back At Early November

Ha Ha! I remember dressing up MY dog when I was little. I have to find that picture of Shoni with my nightgown, a hat and pink sunglasses,... I do think Max looks especially tough with a pink feather boa! Like mother like daughter!



Home Depot ROCKS! The first Saturday of every month they have a free workshop for kids. You sign up, show up and they hand you a little kit, safety glasses, a hammer and an apron you get to keep. I would not give this little girl a hammer if I were you,...



This past month it was especially grand, since it was pirate ships. Aaaargh!!!! Poor Jared nailed in his 'cannons' so they were shooting inside the ship instead of out. Like mother, like son!



Here is the FANTASTIC cake that I found on the Internet and said to my mom: "Here is the cake that I,.. well, I mean us,.. okay, well, actually, YOU are going to make for Zach's eighth birthday. It looks really easy!"


Uhm,... Ben, you are supposed to throw the balls on the skeeball alley, not Brendan!

Maybe There Is Such A Thing As Too Pregnant

Okay, so after the comments I got emailed to my personal email, perhaps I should stop posting until the pregnancy has passed. I am riding the emotional roller coaster, which is always there lurking in the background for us girls, but very exemplified when preggo. Last week I had three days of 'every one is out to get me, no one cares I'm having a baby.' My husband tried to call. I emailed him and told him I didn't want to talk. When he did call I was nothing but a blubbery mess. Then, magically, I felt fine! He was just happy to be 2000 miles away not dealing with the whole loop-de-loop, I'm sure.

Only three and a half weeks to go. At my last appointment the nurse sat down to go through my chart, getting everything in order to send over to the birthing center. That's when it hit me, I'm having a baby,... SOON. Dealing with four other kids non stop one tends to forget the bun in the oven, accept when trying to bend over and tie my shoes, pick something off the floor, or attempt to look cute for the day in some sort of clothing. Ha. Then she said, "You are the picture of a perfect pregnancy." To which I replied, "Uhm,.. except for the blood clot and 50 pound weight gain,.." What chart was she looking at? But, honestly, besides those two little things, yes, absolutely. I could do this whole pregnancy thing myself.

After all, what DO you ask your OB when you are pregnant with your fifth kid? "Any questions?" asks my doctor.

"Nope," I say.

"Well, we'll see you in two weeks," she replies.

So I started to think of every possible stupid thing I could ask.

"I'm sooooo tired," I whine.

"You are pregnant," she says, closing my chart and smiling, ushering me out the door.

"I think I'm getting hairier. Here, look at my cheeks, they are fuzzier than normal. It's a good thing I'm blond. Is it my thyroid?"

She smiles. "Your thyroid is fine."

So, yes, small babies, Terri, but not a small mommy. : )

Gotta go buy some little diapers and maybe pack a bag, I guess.

Happy Scary Shopping

Okay, when I only had boys to shop for, I did run into the 'OMG, I am NOT buying that toy and WHAT PARENT WOULD?' mindset from time to time. No scary bleeding plastic figurines; no demonic action figures and nothing that promoted some movie they were too young to even see. (Same goes for Haloween. You can dress up as a Zombie, but you may not dress up as Jason. How do you know who Jason even is??)

I'm not some crazed zealot shielding my kids from the evils of the world. I am, however, their mother, as as that person, I will guide them away from things that are not appropriate and tell them why, so when they are older they can make their own decisions. It is all we as parents can do. I allow toy guns. They read Goosebumps and Harry Potter and even the Vampire Chronicles, because my oldest can handle it.

And don't get me wrong; I can't WAIT until they are old enough to bring the pillow and blankies out to the living room and watch scary movies with their mother until the crack of dawn. But not yet. I, for one, treat horror movies and books as a rollercoaster ride for my brain. I don't think reading or seeing them makes me an evil person. But, again, I'm an adult and I can handle it.

Having a girl, however, has opened my eyes to a whole WORLD of ridiculous, inappropriate toys. Wow. Barbie, maybe not so darned bad when you place her next to Bratz. Not just the creepy eye surgery and botox lips they sport, but the mindset of these dolls. Shop and shop and shop. Yes, I know lots of little girls who play with them and they are completely fine. But I have my mom as a role model, and where she allowed the 'Sunshine Family' she allowed only one Barbie doll. Did I think my friends who had 20 barbies had a better life than me? Of course. Did it scar me for life? Of course not. Did it teach me something good as an adult? I think it did.

Toy cash registers with pretend money? Great for learning. Toy credit cards and the plastic jewelry to pretend to buy? No way.

Play food? Great! Play McDonald's food? Not so great.

Then I found this great little aisle in Target that had what I'd call snooty toys. Why they had to have their own aisle, I can't imagine except for that impression they want to give their shoppers. They have these cute 'barbie' type dolls that don't have gazonga boobies and dress not so quite inappropriately. I grabbed one and a little baby with supermodel hair for my daughter. Now for the daddy doll,... no daddy doll. No boy baby dolls, no male nothin'. What's up with that? I know that the nuclear family is in the minority, but come on! It's okay to play with boy dolls! It's okay for boys to play with dolls! My boys had baby dolls when they were younger. Are these lesbian dolls who propogate with IVF? Nothing wrong with that for those who want it, but I don't. Make a boy doll for me. Are we teaching little girls that boys are not important? Living in a household with four boys (five if you include the dog), I kind of LIKE boys and think it would be cute if my daughter could pretend with her play family just like her real life family.

That doesn't mean I want to BE a boy. I am extremely happy being a girl and would like to teach my girl that being a girl is cool. But liking boys is also cool.

Which leads me to the whole controversy of the Dangerous Book for Boys and now we have a Dangerous Book for Girls. Don't even get me started down this path. I bought the first for my boy. I will NOT buy the second for my girl. I think it is ASANINE. I don't want my boys and girls to be the same. I want them to be different and cherish their differentness; respect each other for their differences and learn from them.

As a kid, one of my favorite toys was a blue metal pick up truck. But I'm a girl.

As a teenager I wore makeup. But I also trained bird dogs, got a couple of first places in field trialing competitions and my grandfather, who is a gunsmith, gave me a shotgun for my 13th birthday. But I am a girl.

As an adult, at one of the many after conference shin digs I'd go to with my co-workers, smoking a cigar and snarfing beer out of the pitcher (sorry mom), my good buddy told me, "Karen, you are a man trapped in a woman's body". Maybe true, but I am a girl.

Stuff Worth Reading

I love blogs. I love to see what people are up to, and have them lead me on other pathways that I may find interesting because they do. Blogs are kind of like Amazon.com's "People Who Bought XYZ Book Also Bought This,"

Here are a couple interesting things I found on the Internet that I think are worth reading (thanks for the links, Magan!)

Don't knock bibilical home ec from the Oped section of the LA Times. She is what I would say is a conservative baptist (maybe there are no other kinds?), a great writer and interesting blogger.

And something to chew about Mitt Romney, even if you don't lean that conservatively and think you don't care, it is an interesting reflection and for my generation, a bit of history revealed.

All I Needed to Know I Learned From Kindergartners

So I’m helping with the Kindergarten Memory Book, which is no easy task when you are nine months pregnant, have an almost two year old and a part time job. But I said I’d do it and I need to log ‘Family Commitment Hours’ as part of my contract to enrolling my kids in this school. Why don’t they just go ahead and admit that they are ‘Overworked Mother Commitment Hours’? I can’t remember hubby doing anything to help besides get chastised for using a non-digital camera at the pumpkin patch. (serves him right.)

It is cracking me up to see what kids write. There are the usual answers to ‘what is your favorite hobby?’ like ‘riding my pony’ that you would expect from a private school. So, I guess the girl who answered ‘crab’ to her favorite food question also shouldn’t be a surprise. Neither should the ‘ravioli with white sauce’ (these are five year olds for heaven’s sake and I think they eat better than I do.)

Then there are the brown nose questions like the answer ‘vegetables’ to the ‘what’s your favorite food’ question. Yeah, right. Someone tell her she isn’t getting graded.

Then there are those completely made up questions like from my son. His favorite food? Japanese. I don’t remember ever feeding the kid Japanese food. And spending the night at his friend Ren’s house, who does happen to be Japanese, and exclaiming that tofu is gross, doesn’t count as eating Japanese food, much less claiming it as his favorite.

My kid’s favorite color? Black. What does that say about me, oh friend with the child pysch doctorate? It can’t be good.

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For those who have asked, my due date is December 12. All my kids have been around 8 lbs, with Sabrina, the only girl so far, being under 8 even though she was number four. Let the betting begin!

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And CONGRATULATIONS to Paul and Sarah who are expecting their first in July! Yay! Paul says they are now in competition to have even more kids than us. I say, more power to you!

No Turning Back Now

Okay, okay, I'm posting. If I had time to post every day, I would have nothing to post about. :)

Thanks to all the neighbors and friends, Church acquaintances, and school friends who are excited to have us back down in Cali. Rob appreciates the kind words as he sees everbody and the references for housepainters. And let me tell you, I'll take an eight year old's birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese over the mess he moved back to any day. And that's saying a lot.

On my end, everything is hunky dory. The baby is locked and loaded, head down. No small feat since two out of four pregnancies have been breach. It's such a relief to not have to worry about that. While a version (when the dr. turns the baby around using external manipulation) isn't anywhere nearly as wonderful as full assault labor, it is extremely uncomfortable and,.. weird. Plus it leaves bruises. The last baby didn't turn with that, which led me to asking everyone available for ideas on how to get her head first. I had a lot of interesting ideas from standing on my head (can't do that when I'm NOT pregnant) to sitting on an exercise ball (good to have a use for it, because as I have learned, exercise equipment doesn't give you any of its good advantages unless you actually use it. Having the receipt in your wallet for those 10 lbs. dumbbells doesn't actually help you gain muscle. Such a bummer.) Also, from my Phd friend, as she explained in layman's terms for me, the BA holding one, "shine a flashlight up your hoo-ha." Considering she doesn't know what continent Eqypt is on, I decided not to do this one. Too 'Poltergiest' - ish if you know what I mean. "Carrie Ann, go towards the light,.."

I did finally ask my doctor and he suggested (now, remember this IS southern California, the land of crystals, flax seed and 'finding yourself') to get in a hot tub, with the water not so boiling hot. So, I did this for the whole weekend. Not as relaxing as you might think, with three boys and their friends cannon balling their preggo mother in the hot tub.

Whether this actually worked, or the doctor pushing her half way did, or she did it on her own, she turned!

I'm also dilated to 1 cm, which means absolutely nothing really, except that things are working. They seem to stall, however, when the actual delivery times comes along, making me at least, very thankful I don't like in the old days, as I would have died with the first birth. Here's to pitocin!

Have a Happy Life

If you haven't seen it yet, I strongly recommend Evan Almighty with Steve Carel. It is HILARIOUS, has a good message and absolutely NO SWEARING. It has a better family rating than riding with me in my car any day of the week.






And for another happy moment, check out Edward Beck's book Soul Provider. I've just begun to read it, but his easy writing style and interesting correlations to everyday opportunities to grow in your own spiritual faith make this a book that you'll grab to read over and over again. A Catholic priest, Beck discusses spirituality that transcends our human need to typify religion; he brings in tenants from many different faiths to dscuss a 5th Century 'step to being a good person'. It is very timely today in a society where we try and fill our emptiness with things ( I like Nordstrom more than I should, I'll admit it), and we seem to be hit more and more often with tragedies such as the recent fires in California, flood and famine in the world, and human atrocities we inflict on each other every day. (Just this week investigators unearthed a UPS pilot living in a nice suburban lakeside community who has been beating and raping little boys for the past decade. He has video of these awful things in his house. We are talking more than 20 victims who have been identified already. Unbelievable.)

Soul Provider and his other books God Underneath Me and Unlikely Ways Home remind us that we as human beings are fallible and that's okay. Life is a learning event. Dust yourself off and try again, don't beat yourself over the head because you aren't perfect. But don't give up either.

Thurston County Football 2007

A couple of pictures for daddy who is down in So Cal sewing our lives back together; assessing damage of the house from uncaring tenants, moving household goods back in after we spent our moving allowance on shipping heavy, but beautiful teak furniture back from Bali, and setting up utilities. Fun fun fun.

Anyway, here is Jared in all his glory. He had a great football season; six touchdowns, lots of tackles and many other things that I as a football illiterate fail to understand. It was nice having him play in a smaller league. That and the other kidney I had to sell to pay for his overnight football camp this past summer.

I feel like we won the parenting Olympics since his coach told us at least three different times what a great kid he is. And that he is. We are very fortunate and I at least hope I don't screw him up in the next eight years. Here's praying for help with parenting,.. ugh.

Here are a few pics from my buddy at work who's boy also plays football (on another team) sent over. His wife has a killer camera. Maybe Santa will visit us this year and take Rob out of the analog age. : )

Happy Halloween!`

Look what my mom did: me and my brother and most of our broods. I'm supposed to say, "Is there a gun show in town?"



Oi vey, can't believe I have five kids with this,.. man,...



The loveliest witch of them all, Michelle and her boys.



Samantha in her poodle skirt! Kermit and Shawna, next year you have to dress up so I can let all the world see!



Michelle and Thad! Yay!

Partaaay!

Okay, everyone who knows me realizes that I loooove a party. So, halloween makes the perfect time to be a kid again and act completely ridiculous, which I find easy to do. It has to be my favorite holiday. I get all revved up for the entire holiday season, which now spans from October to January 17 for me. Here is what we did for Halloween:

Decorations: of course can not be store bought, you must use your imagination.



The infamous monster in the closet.



Guest parking.



Baby monster!



Creepy pipe cleaner/styrofoam spiders!



And games! This was 'we found a guy and tore him to pieces, can you guess what part of him I'm holding in the paper bag?' You know, good Christian family fun. So, peeled grapes for eyeballs, cold cooked speghetti noodles for veins, soft flour tortillas for skin, sponge for the brain, peeled hotdogs for fingers. Then, we had a monster toss and fish in the creepy critter creek.

Boy, can't wait for Thanksgiving!!! Pumpkin seed spitting contest, pumpkin roll relay, corn husking competition,.. sigh, .. I'm giddy,...

Halloween Party Food!

The best thing about a party is the food. Do you remember that movie with Cher in it where she could only cook appetizers? I feel like that character - I am known for my food-posing-as-something-else. It's almost an illness and it's being fed by Grandma Nonnie, who keeps finding all these excellent recipe books with more and more food concoctions that I must try!

Okay, these sammies were hand carved (crazy woman) by my sis-in-law Michelle:



Of course, every spiced cider needs shrunken apple heads as an adornment:



Candy eyeballs for dessert:



And caterpillar cake (Jared did this one! - yay! I can pass the illness along to the next generation!):



And of course, drum roll please,... witches' brew!:

Pumpkin Carving

Kyle and Zach's classes went to Shilter Family Farm to hunt for pumpkins, pet farm animals, and go through the hay maze. Jared had to stay in his actual classroom, so he got to 'pumpkin hunt' on the front porch with the pumpkins mommy purchased from Walmart. Then, we did the usual, everyone got to design their pumpkins and daddy carved them with that extreme engineering precision that he is known for.




Sabrina's first pumpkin!!



Hard at work on our creations.



Jared got the biggest pumpkin.



Viola! From left: Jared, Zach, Mommy, Sabrina/Daddy, Kyle.

ANOTHER Milestone?

I'm back to being single again. Hubby left this morning at two to start the drive down to Southern Californai. He's stopping in San Fran to see his college buddy and old crewmate. And to climb the Golden Gate bridge. He's already climbed the Bay Bridge, so he has to put this notch on his construction engineer's belt. What am I doing? Working a craft table at second grader's halloween party. Walking the dog. Doing laundry. A mother's life is just not as exciting.

Something that men will never understand:

1. You need to pack 50 pounds of food and toys to keep a 21 month old occupied for one and a half hours.

2. The mystery of creating pig tails out of a small girl's hair. Quickly. Without tears.

3. What shoes go with pink leopard print pants.

What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

My three boys had a conversation with hubby and me last night about what they want to be when they grow up:

Kindergartner: Rocketship guy

2nd grader: Pain-in-the-ol-ogist (He likes dinosaurs,.. A LOT)

5th grader: A priest so he doesn't have to get married.

Then my mom brought up what I wanted to be when I was around 1st grade. I remember finding a peice of paper stating I wanted to drive a red convertible and be a librarian. She remembers the the car, but says I wanted to be a babysitter.

Well, it seems like I've pretty much achieved my goals, mother of five and a writer for a software company, not bad. Still working on the convertible, even if hubby says the 4 Runner we purchased right before we first got married qualifies. (NOT). Be careful what you wish for!

What did you want to be when you grow up?

Friday Ramblings

Well, California is tough and it's still there. A call to my work headquarters found ALL of the county's schools closed and many, many staff at home dealing with kids who usually are not there during the day. Freeway exits were closed, half of Highland (which is on the foot of the mountains) had been evacuated.

Hubby called our insurance company down in Yucaipa, Cali to change our insurance from renters back to home owners since he'll be opening the door once again to our old home and lives this coming Wednesday. Yay! The agent told him there was a moritorium on all changes to policies in the area at the moment. Yikes. Even though we are in no imminent danger because of our location, it gives you chills thinking about how close you are.

When we were house hunting a few years back, we looked at a housing development in Highland. It had been built on one of the hills burned in the last fire. Those houses have been evacuated now. I thank God those houses were out of our price range and wish I could pat myself on the back for not purchasing them due to their location. Not sure I'm that smart though. Hubby is, however, he would have saved me from my greed.

Remember people, flood zones, fire zones, earthquake zones, they all count! It may look pretty at the beach, but is that homestead site really fit for construction? Will that bulkhead hold? We seem to blow raspberries at Mother Nature. Studying physical geography in college and its impact on humans was fascinating, especially the impact flooding has on third world countries like India.

Granted, you have to weigh the benefits with the risks. My mom's office, for example, is right in the lava flow if Mount Ranier were to blow. Good to know if that giant wakes up, but for the moment, I think she's safe. But gives you chills to think of all the things that can possibly go wrong in life, one of my favorite hobbies.

On a lighter note, I did it. I bit the chew toy and went to the hairdresser. I don't usually have time to go, I think it's crazy expensive how much it costs to have your hair done, so I only end up going about every four or five months when I absolutely hate to look at myself in the mirror and am totally desperate. I am now back to skanky California blond color and feel oh, so much better. Stupid, isn't it? But I think with the pregnancy thing happening again (FOR THE FIFTH TIME!) I'm allowed to indulge. I have even been doing my nails on a regular basis. I think it's funny that I'm concentrating on the peripheries of my body since everything in the middle seems to be out of my control.

Freaky realization: my hairdresser was born in 1982. I graduated from high school in '87. Am I really that old?

Hubby has been forcing me with a hot cattle prod to do our walks every day, too. Which is great. I need motivation. For that when he's gone he'll be leaving my hairy, smelly personal trainer, Max the jungle dog. Maybe I can find excuses for me not exercising every day (have to feed the kids, do the laundry, clean something, stare into space) but I can't handle sad doggie eyes.

It's humorous in a horrifying way how these two mile walks are starting to get really loooong. In pre preggo days, streak up there and back in 20 minutes if I didn't feel like the doing the whole suburb circuit. Coming home this summer, after my little uterine clot cleared, I was walking in 25, 30 minutes when I could bother to do it. Yesterday? 45 minutes. By nine months, I'll have to bring a snack to sustain me for the length of time I make that circuit. Gads.

And thank goodness it's Friday since packing lunches and doing homework is really taxing. Well, not doing homework, but organizing all those papers three little boys like to flick out of their backpacks the minute they get home like some sort of ticker tape parade on New Year's Day.

My middle son talked me into buying him a lunchable. He used the historic mommy guilt trip of "I wish my lunches were as good as everyone ELSE in my class." What do those other mothers pack, I ask son. The answer comes out that it's anything already prepackaged, in colors not found in nature, with so many preservatives that the teacher has put some of them in their class's time capsule. No, veggies and fruit do NOT constitute a cool lunch.

Not wanting to limit my son's popularity, I negotiated one lunchable a week. Of course, after my usual soap box about how they aren't very nutritious, but everything in moderation. I feel so schizophrenic when I'm reading my OB's latest copied article on the benefits of organic foods for children since we are poisoning them on a daily basis ((Yes, this is the kid who exists on Chocolate Peanut Butter pops for breakfast,... every day) knowing full well that gross lunchable will be packed with love into his lunchbox in the morning.

Don't get me wrong, I have a fun size bag of snickers hidden in my cupboard and Tostitoes Queso in the fridge. But I eat that with baked chips. Maybe that's why I like that Mika song, "Big Girls Are Beautiful;" pizza and a diet coke indeed.

Hang In There Southern California

I'm thinking why did I go to Indonesia when there are all sorts of natural disasters to contend with here in the United States? Four years ago, friends from my company, ESRI, based in San Bernardino County, sent pictures of the fires near Lake Arrowhead; many people were evacuated and some lost their properties. Here we are again, but across seven counties. It's almost unbelievable.





I logged on to a neighbor's blog and found out that the local school (right behind our house in California) is shut down today and tomorrow because of poor air quality.

Rob's uncle down in San Diego has not been evacuated YET, but everyone else within a two mile radius has. His wife's family has had houses on both sides of them burn down.


Check out this blog, run by ESRI staff who care, on how these fires and those of four years ago, compare.

We're praying for you, So Cal.

One of the things I love, love, love about the company that has kept me gainfully, if not creatively, employed for the last fourteen or so years is the remarkable charitable attitude the owner and founder, Jack Dangermond, has towards organizations that can benefit from his technology (geographic information systems - basically maps smarter than you'll ever be!). Thanks to the incredibly intelligent people (I do not include myself in this category) who are attracted to ESRI, they are able to support emergencies every year, including this year's fires.

While in Banda Aceh, Indonesia, I worked with the local government to fix their GIS licenses and get them up and running on our new technology. This required me to fanagle my buddy and senior sales dude to fly over and wheel and deal. After it was all said and done, my incredible company donated around $250,000 for emergency response software licensing. That perhaps is why I'm in marketing and not sales, I'm way too much overhead, eh? I think my hubby would concur.

Yet Another New Era, Can I Get Off the RollerCoaster Now?

Well, we've bit the bullet. We are trading in my beautiful 7 series beemer for a,... mini van. So the beemer was gotten used and is ten years old, it's still a nice little car and I see my car as an extension of myself. A quality person, worth the extra maintenance, serious but with a fun side, okay, maybe not german. Sigh. Nothing against mini vans or the people who drive them. I just see them like I do dolman sleeves or espadrilles; cute on somebody else.

We took yesterday afternoon with the cranky B and went to the local automall. Nothing like car shopping in Olympia, Washington; where we were terrified we'd be attacked upon stepping foot onto a lot, we actually found the places quite deserted. I helped myself to a few cars, realizing that the driver's door on most vehicles was open and I could gain access that way. Is that breaking and entering? I hope not.

We checked out the Kia whatever, the Hyundai whatitscalled, the Toyota thingy and the Honda Odyssey. Also the Saturn Outlook and the Buick Rendezvous. These hybrid vehicles are so very cute, but honestly, with five children who have parents 6' and 6'6", we will not fit in them for very long. It would be the car version of me buying school uniform pants for my kids right now; they fit for a couple of weeks, then in a blink of an eye, they are highwaters and the zippers are too tight. And I've been warned; friends who are the same height as us have grown children where the girl is 6'4" and the boys are both over seven feet tall. I'm not making this up.

The Rendezvous was kind of cool and a good price, after I got over my snotty image of the whole 'Buick' brand. All I can think of driving a Buick is my grandpa in his golf pants. But it will only fit six if I get the captains' chairs in the middle. Explaining why I want the captains chairs to my hsuband was like speaking a foreign language underwater with no tongue.

"Honey,",I said. "I need to have two carseats in the middle. Then, I have a booster seat in the way back that houses a child who can't seem to put on a seatbelt without making it into some sort of origami ribbon."

He tells me to just slide the seat forward, it won't go all the way forward anymore, but with the top tilted up, the boys can squeeze in the back.

Okay, I'm envisioning myself in rain (or 130 degree So Cal weather, doesn't matter, the point is, I want out of nature quickly), with a baby in a baby seat over one forearm, the toddler trapped between my thighs, a huge purse/diaper bag/garbage can/toy holder slung over a shoulder, yelling at my kids to 'stay right here, DO NOT MOVE' (yes, the OTHER three) as I find a free appendage to feel blindly for the little lever that will spring that second seat forward. Only 1/2 of the way. Then, hanging my childbearing backside out of the car door as I try and unknot child's seatbelt in the way back.

No go baby.

When I find the Rendezvous with the captains' chairs and the leather interior (big whiff o' leather; I haven't owned a cloth seated vehicle since I was in college.) and explain to hubby that I like it, but we can't fit him in the car with us, he says to me, "Like that matters, there's no way in *#&$(& I'm getting in that thing."

Very funny. Spoken like a man with a brand spankin' new F150 company car waiting for him in Orange County.

So, on to the mini vans. To make a long story short, the Odyssey honestly had more third seat space than the Kia, which was also a nice vehicle. And it had a stowable middle second row seat, so I can have my aisleway with the captains' chairs when hubby isn't looking.

Since leather is a bit out of our price range at the moment; we refuse to carry a car payment, and after a year overseas with an NGO, the coffers are a bit dry, I can deal with foamy fabric. I'm sure I can find some sort of cute car seat cover, they make them for babyseats, why not mom seats? If not, maybe I can design some in pink chenille, or leopard print. That and a non alcoholic beer that actually tastes good, and I can retire in comfort.

And the 'entertainment system'? Entertaining for WHO? I am not going down the slippery slope of in-car DVD systems. At the dinner table, the big 10 year old was selling us on buying a car with one. All I can see is wasting precious time getting ANYWHERE as five children fist fight over what one video will play on the screen. "I'll even watch whatever the others want to watch," he says.

To which my 8 year old piped up, "Digimon! And Pokemon!"

And 10 year old promptly replied, "Except that."

So, here we are arguing over what to watch on the in car DVD system we don't even own yet. And then, when I mentioned, we now have girls to deal with and so the viewing options have just opened up to include titles like 'Barbie's Swan Lake' and 'Strawberry Shortcake' and 'Bratz Go to Mars' (or is that just my silent wish?) the DVD system doesn't seem so cool anymore.

Go Mommy Bloghers!

Okay, so besides the fact that yes, I'll admit it, I covet this woman's instand popularity, because, darn it, I have a mundane life too and it's pretty funny. But, good for her with her popular blog being read by 30,000 people every day. This lady is all of us moms' Cinderella, book deals, sitcom deals, and the news darling of the day because she writes about her family of six in a very humerous way - check it out.

I don't know; scoping out the Internet these days is making me feel like I did back in the day when I subscribed to those crazy parenting magazines - the ones that made you feel bad because you didn't do all those witty crafts, look like those models in the exercise articles or make dinners from scratch every night with flaxseed and veggie puree. Utterly less-than-everybody-else.

These days it seems every mom has a blog making money on advertising and companies sending samples hoping to be given a good review and break into the great, big buying strength that we mavens of the household front control. Or they all have cute little online stores, having learned Web design and html while breastfeeding their newborns at night.

Argh!

But, ... good for them.

I'll continue my little posts to keep family and friends up to date and there is NOTHING better than sitting down with that first cup of coffee in the morning, getting the nerve to open my work email, and surfing among my friend's blogs. White picket fence of today, thank goodness there is an Internet.

Beginning of a New Era

I pick hubby and stupid dog up from the airport in about three hours. Can't believe it. Not having been on the same continent with him since the end of July I can't help but wonder about the adjustment this time. I don't care how much you love and know someone, it's tough to 'get in synch' again. I'm so happy to have him home, and it's Christmas time here for the boys. I feel melancholy our little adventure has finally come to an end, but so excited to have us back together as a family.

I was feeling all proud of myself yesterday for staying sane until the end. Then I went to B's toddler gym class and talked to one of the girls there who has a little boy B's age. I say girl because I don't think I was ever that young. Wow. And to make me feel even more matronly, she was waiting for me to show up so she could ask some teething advice. Gads. Must find the even higher heels and break out some more sequins. At least I can pretend in my mind that I don't have lots of kids and am approaching 40, thus meaning I MUST be an adult.

Anyway, she and her husband, who is military, recently relocated to Olympia from Fairbanks. They are originally from someplace like Ohio. HER husband just came back from the front after four months. So, here is this little 20-something with her first new child, in a new place, by herself with a husband who has been gone for four months. In combat. On the front line, somewhere he can not disclose because he's in some special force. Thank you God, for once again humbling me back to my proper place. What an inspiration this WOMAN was. I can't imagine holding it together as well as she has in the face of all of that at her age.

Among other humbling experiences, I was watching Oprah's show on Monday night. The one with Jerry Sienfeld's wife who was extolling the virtues of hiding veggie purees in her children's food. Lovely little idea, but I can find other things to do with my Sunday nights than hang out in my kitchen chopping, steaming and pureeing. And have you ever prepared a Butternut Squash? I love 'em - I have a to-die-for recipe from Better Homes and Gardens for a curry soup with it - but come on, the veggie requires super human strength and a hatchet to open. Kind of like eating an artichoke - not something I'd do everyday for fear of starving to death before my teeth can scrape off all the 'meat' for a meal.

Plus I like to wield my extreme dictatorship in my household. "That's okay, Zach, you don't have to eat your broccoli. But no dessert. It's your choice." (Insert evil laugh.)

So, as I was listing reasons why the veggie puree thing would be a nice fad in my house, but never stick because I am lazy at heart, the conversation turned to other crazy things parents do to mess up their children's lives. Like watching whatever they want on TV, or watching it forever, or going to sleep with a TV turned on in their rooms.

Then, I went up to bed and checked in on my little cherubs. What did I find? My two oldest playing their gameboy things at 10 PM! Yes, I slipped and didn't confiscate the horrible little devices before they went to bed. My bad. Once again, humbled.

But what a great opportunity to drive them CRAZY all day. "What Zach, you're tired? It can't be because you were PLAYING YOUR GAMEBOY UNTIL 10 PM can it?"

Last couple little stories before I wrench sleeping babes from their beds and thrust them into society. The same wicked kid who was battling Pokemons in to the wee hours had a new teacher in his class yesterday, so they had to wear nametags. He put 'Zach Effron' (did I spell that right? The current 'hottie' on the teen scene thanks to Highschool Musical 2.) on his name tag and dared his freind Justin to put 'Justin Timberlake' on his. Oh, poor teachers. And this is in a Catholic school in the second grade. The teach innocently called him Zach Effron for the time she was there.

Then, as I was helping out in my Kindergartner's class, a cute little girl came up to him and gave him a little card she had made with fabric flowers glued to it. I was explaining this to his grandmother that night and I asked him what the girl's name was.

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't know. I was either Mia or Maria."

"Oh yeah," I said. "They are twins."

He thought a minute and said, "Mia has fangs. Maria burps a lot. That's how I can tell them apart."

I had to explain to grandma that the girls were much cuter than described by my six year old, but knowing what little boys like at this age, perhaps these were the virtues he was looking for in a woman at the moment.

Happy Thursday!

King of Aceh (At Least in His Mind)

Thanks to Roy Rene for taking this picture at Rob's CRS going away party. This is a traditional Acehnese hat, and I'm sorry I don't know more about this particular style. One of the things I love, love, love about Aceh is the beautiful textiles. They make the most magnificent embroidered purses on shiny fabrcis. And the women always look unbelievable and leave me feeling like some big ugly American with their tunics sporting embroidery, sequins and beading. Anyone who knows me has noticed that I have incorporated anything shiny and/or fake furrish in my clothing ever since I could dress myself.

I'm sure everyone there knows that the test of a truly great manager is finding and supporting excellent people. No one is successful in this world by themselves. We've had the pleasure of knowing some excellent folks all over the world, and Aceh is no exception. I had a great time hanging out scamming on the Internet connection in the office while ours wasn't working, attending parties and turn overs and generally wandering around waiting to shmooze a driver to take me somewhere. (shhhh,.don't tell Scott).