In Which I Think a Time-Machine Would Be a Good Thing

I don't know what it's been about this last week, but I'd sure like to have a time machine so I could go backwards a few years.

Maybe it's because we just had (some of) the Kid's Senior Pictures taken.

Maybe it's because she just started her 2nd semester of her senior year.

Maybe it's because a family friend (whom the Kid has really liked for years) just left for Army Basic training.

Maybe it's because they all grew up way too fast and are starting to leave home.

I don't know exactly what it is. I know that's part of a parent's job, to get them ready to fly on their own, and I think we've done a pretty good job.

But I'd sure like to be able to go back and tell my past self to capture and enjoy more of the everyday moments from when they were younger, instead of trying to just get going to the next thing.

365 Photos Day 364

364/365

Today was Steve's extended extended mother's family Christmas. It's one of the must-do events every holiday season, and not out of obligation. The family members really do all like each other. It's kind of weird. And as his Mom is 1 of 10 (actually 1 of 12, but 2 died in infancy), and each of her siblings had more than 1 kid each, well, let us just say that it's rather overwhelming sometimes. It's gotten so big that it's sometimes easier to just have it in a public space instead of at someone's home, although that still happens too.

We were playing that Left Center Right dice game again, and although I was consistently winning (for real), I told my nephew, Nate, that he could be my picture of the day because he was so proud of himself for having 6 nickels (the next roll he lost 2 of them).

He wanted to make sure that I got a good angle on him and his Swag, but I was too busy laughing at his white-boy use of the word "Swag" to get a clear picture.

(This is mainly because when I hear the word "Swag" I think of Kingsley's YouTube Video about Overexposed things, like using #hashtags on Facebook instead of Twitter [Just don't do it])

Warning: Some Most of language is sooooo NSFW. Awesome, but NSFW.

365 Photos Day 359

359/365

Iz, waiting for Santa. Probably in the hopes he'll bring Sunny the Fish back. (So not happening)

I like the nights after Christmas is done and over. The quiet and stillness that's there while reading by the Christmas tree lights. That all too fleeting moment of peace.

That's one of my favorite things about the holiday season.

365 Photos Day 358

358/365

We did the extended family Christmas thing today. It was odd getting together on Christmas Eve. Usually we reserve that for our family; Steve & Amanda go shopping, then we have dinner, then we open presents at 7pm. After that, we play with our new toys, and eventually go to Midnight Mass.

Today, though, we did the extended family Christmas, came home, tried to recuperate from that, didn't have dinner, opened presents at 8pm, and are now all playing with our new toys. We may or may not end up going to Midnight Mass.

Just another odd day in the life.

365 Photos Day 354

354/365

Stevie & his new toy.

The whole reason I socked away money all year to get this was so that he could play Angry Birds WITHOUT having to put his glasses on the top of his head while squinting at his iPod.

Glad to see it worked out like I'd planned.

365 Photos Day 353

353/365

Getting Christmas cards in the mail makes me happy. It probably makes other people happy too, so I'd best get cracking on getting ours out before next Christmas.

We haven't always sent them out. Especially when I was in school. At that point my main concern was getting to the end of the term in one piece both mentally and physically.

However, it is fun to see the different photos year to year. And, getting ANY mail is kind of neat too.

365 Photos Day 344

344/365

Wherein Our Family Unit is Expanded by One

Scene: Saturday night, Steve coming home from his work Christmas party.

Steve: Hey! I brought you something!
Me (being no dummy and thus skeptical it's a good thing): Really? What?
Steve: I left it on your desk.
Me: Uh, this is a fish.
Steve: I know! I rescued it.
Me: From what, exactly?
Steve: From the people at the party. His name is Sunny.
Me: You *do* know we have FOUR CATS, right? And that I've never had a fish, so I haven't a clue as to what to actually DO with him?
Steve: Well, I couldn't just leave him there. People were eating and drinking them.
Me: What is WRONG with you people?
Steve: And, at the end of the night the fish were all going to be flushed down the toilet. So I had to save Sunny.
Me: Sigh.

/fin

365 Photos Day 342

342/365

Steve won $100 Winsted Bucks from the Winter Festival last weekend. It's the second time he's won during Winter Festival (Winsted Bucks are able to be used like real money at many areas businesses).

I don't know how he does it, but he's one of the luckiest people I know.
Or maybe I am, seeing as how I'm married to him.

365 Photos Day 338

338/365

Not sure how the genetics worked on this one...pretty sure it's taught that dark hair/eyes override every other color. Obviously the Kid didn't get the memo. She's no Mini-Me, that's for sure.

However, she IS getting better at giving The Look, so that's good. When she can make people quail at even the THOUGHT of getting The Look thrown in their direction, well, I'll know my job here is done.

365 Photos Day 334

334/365

Tonight Steve made some more caramels for the Silent Auction. He's got his system down pretty well, but asked if I'd help him wrap the cut caramels. "Sure," I said. "I can do that."

Well, no, no I can't.

I'm fairly intelligent (I'd like to think), but I'm pretty sure I didn't look it. I couldn't figure out how to cut the wax paper to the right size square, and then I couldn't figure out how to wrap the caramels like he did. I tried to take a picture of him doing it, but his hands were moving so fast they were blurry.

I am so thankful for all the help and support he gives the Library Board for the auction. It's fairly stressful enough, but add in cranky husbands and kids, and all of a sudden we gots ourself a ball game. Or something.

This year he made his extremely excellent peanut brittle and the caramels to auction off. Before he's only made peanut brittle, so he's a little worried that the caramels might not go. I'm pretty sure they will, especially since he made extra for sampling purposes--and once someone tastes it, they'll probably go bid on it.

NaBloWriMo Day 28

Monday, 28 November 2011
Describe an heirloom that has been passed down through generations of your family. What is its significance to you personally?

I have a couple that've been passed down only through the women of the family. All are special in their own way.

1. The 'Elizabeth' Bible: I am the 3rd Elizabeth to have this bible. It's very very old and very fragile. I received it from my Great-Grandmother, who received it from her Grandmother. As the name implies, it gets passed from Elizabeth to Elizabeth. The other 2 had Elizabeth as her middle name; it is my given first name. If my daughter so chooses to name her daughter Elizabeth, it will be passed on. If it doesn't happen until a couple of generations down, it will be passed on then.

2. The Double Wedding Ring Quilt: This is a beautiful handmade quilt that has been passed down for 4 generations on the daughter's wedding day (or kept in trust until said daughter has a place for it). I put it on our bed only in the spring, and keep it in the cedar chest the rest of the year.

3. The Chest of Drawers: This piece was made in the late 1800's and went west on a wagon. It gets passed down when the daughter is settled enough to be in one place for awhile. It's really a lovely carved piece that is still very functional. It currently resides in our foyer.

These are 3 things that get passed down, mother to eldest (or only) daughter. Even as I don't like to have a lot of cluttery stuff, I love the thought that these things have seen a few generations come and go, yet still survive to serve and be loved by the next ones. They are beautiful in their own right, but the added bonus of having family meaning makes them irreplaceable treasures.

365 Photos Day 328

328/365

Today I'm grateful for our extended family. I'm an only child and didn't grow up near my extended family, so the craziness that is Steve's immediate family sometimes makes me want to run away screaming (his extended family is HUGE, and kind of overwhelming sometimes). Holidays are never boring, that's for sure. There's also something to be said for having a good support system if we need it.

These are only 2 of our nephews--I have 2 more, but one was off doing something and the other was texting his girlfriend. Our niece was downstairs, I think.

365 Photos Day 324

324/365

Apparently when the camera gets used a whole bunch more than normal, the battery will die. When the battery dies, it's kind of hard to take pictures when it's not recharged.

Live and learn.

Anyway...

This week is all about what I'm thankful for.

I'm truly thankful for these two. As much as I think they're from another planet sometimes (most of the time), I'm ever thankful that they're my family. I always say, "All I wanted was a normal family. Instead I got you two." But I'd rather have them than anyone else.

NaBloWriMo Day 19

Saturday, 19 November 2011
Free Choice Saturday: Peanut Brittle

Today was the opening day of the holiday season in our house. How do I know? Because Steve & the Kid made their first batch of peanut brittle. Over the course of the next two months, they will make close to 30 pounds of the stuff for friends, family, the library's annual Silent Auction, and maybe if we're lucky, for us too.

For the past few years, those 2 have perfected their intricate dance entitled "The Making of the Peanut Brittle." It's a complex dance, with timing so precise that a 2 second delay can spell disaster for that particular batch.

It was also kind of bittersweet watching them. In too short a time, she'll be off in the big wide world, and not home to help make the peanut brittle. I asked Steve what he thought and he said he'd been thinking about that too, and would just have to find a new helper (I don't go out into the kitchen while they're making it...the dance is usually accompanied by loud voices and sometimes swearing).

But for this year, anyway, the peanut brittle dance will go on as planned, which is always a good thing.

NaBloWriMo Day 9

Wednesday, November 9, 2011
When was the first time that you realized that your home was not like other people’s homes?

Hmmm. House-wise? I don't have a clear recollection of noticing differences, because really, I just didn't.

I spent the first part of my childhood in a mill town in Eastern Oregon. Most of the houses in our neighborhood were about the same price range (I think, anyway). There were a couple of nicer neighborhoods (read: wealthier) in town, but their houses looked very similar to ours.

When I am thinking about it all, I don't know that I ever made that judgment call until much later in my life. Things were what they were. Not necessarily bad or good, just what they were.

For instance, one of my best friends in high school lived in a house with a full-sized pool, a sauna, a intercom system throughout the house, and a big circular drive. Her family was defintely well-off, but her house was her house. Our house could have probably fit in the part of her house with the swimming pool and sauna and some bedrooms with some room left over.
Another of my best friends lived in a big old farmhouse out in the middle of the country. Her family's house was bigger than ours, but again, it was her family's home.

If we're talking "people who lived in said home", my answer would be different. Sort of. Everyone else's parents seemed waaaay more normal than mine would ever be, and I realized that sometime in grade school.

My Dad worked for the US Forest Service, and transferred every couple of years to a new place while we stayed in that small mill town. Other kids with parents who worked for the USFS usually moved with their parents every couple of years (that's how promotions worked). My parents decided that wasn't fair to me to be uprooted every couple of years again and again, so Dad went, we stayed put. I liken it to a 'reverse divorce' situation: instead of me going to my Dad's every weekend, he'd come home from wherever he was at the time. It was very odd.

He was also severely crippled by Rheumatoid Arthritis, so he looked different from everyone else's dad. When I say "severely crippled", I'm not joking. He was a strapping, strong young man who spent his summers jumping out of perfectly good airplanes to go fight forest fires--he was a smokejumper from the time he was 18 until he was almost 30. But by the time he died, Mom said he looked like a survivor from Auschwitz (seriously).

Then there was my Mom, who God love that woman, was the epitome of weird. And yes, I frequently told her so when she was still alive. All my friends thought she was the neatest person EVAR, but I think a (so-called) normal Mom would've been nice sometimes as well. She was interested in things like hypnotism, past-life regressions, reading Tarot cards, palm-reading, wearing and working with crystals, and alternative healing and energy work (like Jin Shin, and clearing chakras). It was not unusual for me to come home from school and being shushed as I walked through the door because she had someone doing a past-life regression in the living room. I can safely say that NONE of my friends had Moms like her. It wasn't until I was much older that I really appreciated who she was, and admired her for her interests (which I also made sure to tell her plenty of times).

So, I don't know in which manner this question was to be answered...but there it is.

NaBloWriMo Day 8

Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Has anything traumatic ever happened to you? Describe the scenes surrounding a particular event.

Well, sure. I'm pretty sure that something traumatic has happened to everyone somewhere along the way. Why would I be any different?

Of course, my definition of "traumatic" has probably changed over the years, from the superficial to the truly "holy crap that just rocked my world and not in a good way".

There are a couple of moments that make the highlight reel, though.

Age: 20
Location: On ramp of Sunset Highway, Portland, Oregon.
Specific Location: In the passenger seat of my Ford Ranger.
Scene: Arguing with my boyfriend after a really bad fight at our apartment wherein the police were called because the neighbors were afraid for my safety.
Traumatic Moment: He aims the truck at an electrical pole and speeds up. (No, my life didn't flash before my eyes. I was too angry to think.) At the last second (literally), he swerves and says, "You're not worth it."
Note: The knowledge that I was almost killed by stupidity is the traumatic moment, not the fact that he didn't think I was worth dying for.

Age: 37
Location: Minnesota
Specific Location: In our kitchen, at 2am, walking by the phone on my way to bed after fighting the good fight with a Powerpoint presentation and losing.
Scene: The phone rings, but I almost didn't answer it. I was still ticked at the PPT malfunction, and didn't want to talk to anybody. Then I realized, hello, it's 2am, and not a normal time for the phone to ring.
Traumatic Moment: Answering the phone and having a doctor in Oregon tell me that my Mom has died, and that he's sorry, they worked on her for 90 minutes, but couldn't revive her.
Note: The traumatic moment came when I realized that now *I* was the oldest generation in my direct family (if that makes sense). My dad had died when I was 26, and I'm an only child, so yep, I was it. It's an odd thing, that. Before, there was like this definite, I don't know...hierarchy? (not the word I'm looking for, but it'll work), and I wasn't at the top. I wasn't responsible for the family memories or anything. But then, all of a sudden, I was. And now I wish I would've asked more questions about things. Because now, I can't.

And that's about all the trauma I'm going to think about for one night. Now it's back to our normally scheduled blog.

NaBloWriMo Day 7

Monday, 7 November 2011
Making family time is important to me. How do you balance your children, relationship, and work life?

How do I balance everything? Um, not very successfully. When I was in college from 2003-2010, it was even worse.

Mostly I tend to operate under a "what's on fire now?" way of doing things, which then leads to some stressful times. My ever-patient husband has said that I have a laser-like focus, which does come in handy sometimes, but other times, well, not so much.

He's right, I think. I tend to focus in on something to the exclusion of other things which may be just as important. It's something that I've struggled with for years. I'd like to be able to compartmentalize my life better, but at the same time, I know that's not exactly healthy either.

This has actually been on my mind quite a bit recently, as our daughter keeps receiving acceptance letter after acceptance letter from various colleges. It's becoming ever more real to me that next year at this time, she most likely won't be living here--she'll be in college living in a dorm. By going back to school when I did, I ended up sacrificing much of the time I could have spent with her as she was growing up.

I know there's a magic balancing point for all of this. I just don't know either what it is or how to achieve it.

365 Photos Day 294

294/365

This is the first year in a loooooooong time that we've gone out as a family to get pumpkins for Halloween. It'll probably be the last time because the Kid will be going off to college next year. Unless, of course, she decides to stay in-state. Then maybe there will be more moments like this.

We're going to take these mini-pumpkins and use them to make Vampire Pumpkins (a project I've had pinned on my Pinterest board for awhile because the faces crack me up every time I look at them).

365 Photos Day 141

141/365

Today was this young man's graduation party. My family & his family have been friends ever since the kids were young, so it was only fitting that we helped his parents with the graduation party. Besides, they'll help with Amanda's next year, so it's a fair trade.

Dominic has always been a good kid, but it's been amazing to watch him become a really awesome man. I'm just as proud of this kid as if he were my own--we all kind of joke that all our kids get lumped together, so we yell at them/give them hugs/whatever all equally (although when I'm yelling at Dominic now, I have to drag him over to a staircase or grab a chair so I can look him in the eyes).

I'm glad I got to watch him grow up, and I can't wait to see what his future brings him.

365 Photos Day 97

97/365

Sometimes the best things don't come in Tiffany blue boxes.

Sometimes they come in white boxes from Cupcake.

Yum.

What's inside? (the pink frosted one & the white frosted chocolate one are mine. But I'm sharing giving the chocolate one to the Kid.)