I wrote this super cheesy post back in 2003 about how I thought I had the “Dog Spirit.” You know the one where a pregnant 28 year old fanes poetic about her free spirit that is about to be leashed to years of diapers and saying, “Do Not Take Off Your Clothes In Public.” (I assume this includes the teenage and college years.)
It’s not a new theme in my life: Traveling. It’s not something that just sort of showed up one day in my head where I said, “HEY! Let’s go somewhere!” No, the more I analyze (and by god I analyze) my desire, nay, need to get off the continent as frequently as possible, I realize it started early in my childhood, right down to Hello! Salutations! How are you, anyhow? It’s been a while and I’ve missed you all. I’m in England this week. It’s funny, in a “I guess you had to be there” sort of way, but I spoke up to the Taxi Driver this morning in a British accent without realizing it. In fact, I accidentally spelled REALISING it just now until spell check let me know I’m a bloody american. Acclimation is my middle name. (Look, I’m already using words with more than two syllables! And correctly pronouncing my adverbs! And spelling favourite with a flamboyant ‘u’! And over-using exclamations! Right, I...
I always heard moms talk about their school aged kids. School aged! My god they seemed so old. Until today when I watched my 6 month old and his 3 year old sister get on a bus for school. No, I swear. Isn’t he still 6 months old? Isn’t she still the feisty three year old that coined the term, “You think two was terrible, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” The thing is: You all think the same thing, don’t you. I know I do when I see your children climbing on to busses. “Wasn’t he just a preemie? Wasn’t her mom just pregnant with her? OHMYGOD where has the time gone?’ This is an occupational hazard of blogging for 7, no, NINE years? What the hell, people. Did we even have blogs in 2003? Oh, yes...
“Oh, you’re from Seattle? You’re so lucky!” This is coming from the Delta ticketing agent in Detroit. It’s been raining for weeks and it’s the end of June. “Yes, I suppose, why?” “Have you ever read fifty shades of Gray? Christian is from Seattle!” I roll my eyes and try to be patient when I explain, in very slow words, “He. Is. Not. Real.” Someone asked me once if I’d ever been to Forks. You know, where the Vampires live? I usually reply with something not-at-all snarky like, “no, generally I hang with werewolves.” Friday was our last day at the pre-school we’ve been attending for five years. No, our child hasn’t failed pre-school four years running. This school provide pre-K from 3-5 and Kindergarten for 6 yr olds. Both of our children have been at this school. There are other families in the same boat and I see them at the little concerts and plays. They watch their children with a camera and compare the same production to the previous four. There are four of us families, no, five, and our children have grown up together. And Friday was the very last day we will go to this school. I picked this school one day, which I remember vividly, when my daughter was two. We were looking at options because I was going to drive her to Canada and drop her off to live with a flock...
We are watching our parents age. Haven’t they always been the same age? So why are they deteriorating before our eyes now? Why do phone calls include doctor results and stories from forever ago? Of regret? Of routine? When did I become the mom and for the love of god please tell the children their real mother is coming home soon. Who owns this house? The big one with the barn and the garden overgrown with weeds and the busted old chicken coupe? Not us, not me, no way. I’ve been listening to stories through music. They’re called lyrics. Maybe you pay attention to them or maybe, like most people I talk to, you just hum along and think, “what a lovely tune.” While I will not claim to be...
Some kids collect stamps. I don’t know who these kids are but I think they’re all about 102 nowadays. When I was a kid, way back in the early eighties, I collected cabbage patch kids. Yea… that… Somewhere around puberty I switched from wrinkly-butt dolls to postcards. I think this is where the first parts of who I am today began to show. This was the very beginning of a small fire that would grow steadily over the years. “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things...
“Don’t let them see me!” “Does the door lock?” “Don’t let anyone in.” My son has yelled this in anxiety during many many wardrobe changes. He wears a rash guard in the pool so nobody can see his “boobies.” He hides his tummy from close friends because, “They will laugh at me.” I do not know where he gets this stuff. No, really. We’re not overly sensitive about nudity at our house. The children have grown up talking to me while I get dressed, asking questions about my body and me willingly answering. I started the “private parts...
So I’m talking tomorrow night at the inaugural meeting for the EE Seattle Meet Up. And, if you follow me on twitter, you’ll realize I’ve been doing nothing but coding-OMG-coding-HEADBANG for weeks now.This is also why you see a distinct lack of conversation about the latest Bachelorette (TEAM JEFF) or why all the freakin’ adorable stories of my children remain largely untold. Not to worry, I promise to bring up a variety of daily babble soon enough. In the mean time, I have a confession: I’m speaking on the “Best (some # here) Tips for a Friendly Back-End in ExpressionEngine” and I’m not sure I’m qualified to give BEST...
This is wildly late in coming but I’ve update this site. In between children and life and work and events and family and maybe squeezing in one or two days of yoga a week ... you know the story, I started this revamp about six months ago and finally, slowly, painfully finished it. I know we tend not to blog as much these days now that twitter is built in to our OS and Facebook includes our dog, our parents and our dog’s parents, but I hope to keep updating this space with writing, code, tales of travel or discovery. That last bit didn’t make the cut in the header but it’s valuable non-the-less and a...
Live in the pause. Or, hello, I’m in London. Or, crying over eggs is cool. 27/Sep/2012
Firsts and lasts 04/Sep/2012
50 Shades of Seattle 29/Aug/2012
Endings and Beginnings 27/Aug/2012
Though the Truth May Vary 20/Aug/2012
The forgotten ones 07/Aug/2012
M-EE-Tup Best(ish) practices 25/Jul/2012
A bit o’ house cleanin’ and a new design 16/Jul/2012
Hello! Salutations! How are you, anyhow?
It’s been a while and I’ve missed you all.
Acclimation is my middle name.
I always heard moms talk about their school aged kids. School aged! My god they seemed so old.
Until today when I watched my 6 month old and his 3 year old sister get on a bus for school.
“Oh, you’re from Seattle? You’re so lucky!”
“Yes, I suppose, why?”
“Have you ever read fifty shades of Gray? Christian is from Seattle!”
I roll my eyes and try to be patient when I explain, in very slow words, “He. Is. Not. Real.”
Someone asked me once if I’d ever been to Forks. You know, where the Vampires live?
I usually reply with something not-at-all snarky like, “no, generally I hang with werewolves.”Read more
While I will not claim to be... Read more
“Don’t let them see me!” “Does the door lock?” “Don’t let anyone in.”
I do not know where he gets this stuff.