Coffee with Dave

This morning I had coffee with Dave.  You're thinking BIG DEAL right?  But, it is!  We haven't had coffee together for THREE weeks!

And as anyone who has kids knows, finding quality mom and dad time is sometimes challenging.  So,  "getting coffee" has always been our thing.  It's when we catch up, talk about the kids, talk about the house, talk about our dreams.  You know, those crazy dreams,  like when we will go on vacation without our children?

But since his work has been so busy lately,  Dave has been working seven days a week.  Admittedly, this really helps out when Anna's college housing (ouch!) is due.  AND, it allows me to stay home and be mommy, housekeeper (sort of), chauffeur, birthday present purchaser, dog walker, and recently, blogger.   Okay, you get the picture.  And, yes, I do see him every day after work, so it's not like I'm deprived or anything.  But, I still miss him;  or at least that time with him.  

So what happened 3 weeks ago?  Well, that was our 20th Anniversary Trip to Beautiful British Columbia.  At least that's what all the license plates say.  And I have to agree with them.  For the three days we visited, Victoria was just that.

And, remember those crazy vacation dreams--without our children--that I just mentioned?  Well,  it had been ten years, TEN YEARS, since Dave and I vacationed without our children.  So we felt we deserved it.  

So, off Nora Jane went to Grandma's house.  Thank you Grandma Garnet!  Off Jack went to Grandpa Dahl's house.  Thank you Dad!  And off we went.  

Our trip started off beautifully.  The drive to Port Angeles was sunny and cloudless,  and the ferry ride to Victoria was gorgeous!  Although, I was surprised to see The Coast Guard escorting us for the first half of the trip.  

Waiting to get off the boat in Victoria.  See how smiley I am?
The return ride was not so smiley.
The water was rough and I spent  half the trip on deck,
in the cold, trying NOT to throw up.

Speaking of National Security, while we were waiting to board the ferry, I got to talk to one of the bomb sniffing dog handlers and admire his BEAUTIFUL Visla.   And I know she was on duty, hard at work ensuring our safety, but I REALLY wanted to pet her.  I did not.  Her owner didn't offer, and I felt it was inappropriate to ask. 

Upon our arrival in Victoria, we quickly passed through customs, and found ourselves being entertained by a local street performer.   We watched for a few minutes, until the hat came out, and then off we went.    We had stuff to do, sights to see, food to eat!  I hadn't been to this city since my eighth grade field trip.   I had no children tugging at my purse,  and I was ready to go, go, go!

And for two and a half days that is exactly what we did NOT do!  Instead, we totally relaxed.  We went to dinner.  We had cocktails, which we don't really do too much, but what the hell, we were out of the country!  We had coffee--each morning!  We explored the city on foot, and when we got tired we hopped onto the city bus and rode out to Butchart Gardens;  which is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.  And it totally makes my flower beds at home look so lame.  

This fuschia reminded me SO much of Nora Jane
and her love of fairies.

The Dahlia Garden at Butchart Gardens was INCREDIBLE.
This was one of my favorites.

After the garden tour, we tried to get hockey tickets to see the Victoria Royals in their season opener, but we weren't aggressive enough at making our wishes known, so we went to dinner at a local pub and then saw "Drive" at a nearby theater.  

I think I am trying to prove to Dave that his beer, the Harp,
was lighter and, therefore, less manly than my beer.
He didn't buy it either....

And I loved this movie.  David?  Not so much.  It was a dark film, for sure.  But the characters were so real and played off one another so well.  And Ryan Gosling?  Well, let's just say, he's one of my new favs.  He played the main character, and didn't really say much.  Nor were we given much information about his life up to the point in the movie, but his interaction with the other characters (and the toothpick!) was wonderful and real.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it was time to come home.  But for those three days, life was calm, easy, relaxing.   And, as I type this, I am amazed at how quickly real life just picks up, right where we left off, making even the most recent memories seem old.  

See how relaxed we looked? 

So I'm very grateful for the hour I had with him, all by myself, at Starbucks this morning.  I don't really even know what we talked about; nothing important really.  But since he left for his week long hunting trip right afterward, it'll hold me over until he comes home.  

Nora was also excited to find Daddy at home this morning.  So, they walked to school together-just the two of them.   

I HEART Thursdays

For the last three years, my kid has taken some form of peanut butter sandwich to school EVERY day.  It's either PB & Jelly, or PB & Honey, or, when she's feeling like a purist:  simply bread and peanut butter.

So, I love it, when EVERY THURSDAY she says, "Mom, I wanna buy lunch today!"

And I play along, "why is that Nora?"

"Because, MOM, (if she knew how to use the word DUH I'm sure she would insert it here :) it's Peanut Butter and Jelly Day!"

I love my kid:)

Helping With Homework

Lately, homework time at my house (which has ALWAYS been RIGHT after school)  has been filled with a lot of new behaviors:  frustration, tears, staring off into space, laying on the chair, playing with the cat.  Just about anything BUT doing homework.  Or more specifically,  math homework.  I don't know what has caused this change, but it has been significant.  

Nora has pretty much always been easily frustrated.  If she can't figure something out right away, it's either "dumb" or "the thing's fault."  So much like her sister.  Sigh!  This sometimes proves even more frustrating  to me, as a parent, because she likes to work fast.  She doesn't want to mess around, usually because she'd much rather be doing something else.  Several times last year, her first grade teacher reported that Nora always does a great job at school, but she needs to "slow down and make her work more neat."  Ya, that never happened.  She seems to be operating under the same "get it done as fast as I can" system again in second grade.  

The difference, though, is that she just REALLY doesn't seem to want to do the math.  Or the math in addition to the spelling and reading.  Honestly, I don't know.  She seems to understand all of her work, however she does ask for help sometimes with her math paper.  And, really, I think she does "get" that too, but lacks the confidence to believe in herself and her answers.  

Nora's Homework Folder.
Look Closely, you will see where she wrote Fun Folder
only to later  erase it.  

When I ask her about it, she says, "it's too hard.  I don't get it.  I don't like math!"  And I panic!  Because these are the same comments and sentiments I heard from her sister ALL THROUGH SCHOOL!  And, yet,  Nora seems to grasp mathematics a little better at this age than her sister did.  (Please don't be upset if you are reading this Anna...kids are just different :)

So last week I mentioned Nora's frustrations to her teacher, just to get her feedback.  I was curious:  Is Nora the only one in the class feeling this way?  Well, yesterday a letter came home from the teacher.  In it, she stated that she had "been thinking about homework the last few days."  (Gulp!)  And that she has decided to  "cut back a little on the math assignments."  (Gulp again!)  And this is when my overly worrisome, obsessive self felt "the blame" if you will.  What if the other students were all doing fine?  What if their parents are now wondering, "what's going on?"  

So, I emailed the teacher and thanked her so much for listening and respecting my concerns about Nora's homework experiences of late.  I told her I certainly didn't expect her to change what has always worked for her, especially if Nora was the only one feeling frustrated.  I told her I would have been happy to help her "work through it," if that's what we needed to.  I told her the most important thing to me right now,  is that Nora is in a safe, happy environment where she can learn comfortably and confidently.  

Well, last night, homework was SMOOTH SAILING at our house.  And all because Nora has a teacher who really listens to her students' parents.   So, Thank You Teacher for listening and making your student (and her mother) believe that my kid is right where she belongs.

Who knows, maybe there will come a day when Nora decides to add the "fun" back onto her homework label.

And to those families who were cruising along just fine in math:  I'm sorry.  But I had to speak up for my own child.  It's what we do, right?  

  

The Curse of the Low Rise Jeans

 I. Hate. Jeans.

Why? They don't fit!  Never.  Ever.  Regardless of the size, or brand, or cuteness factor.  

  

I didn't used to feel this way, but since the introduction of the Low Rise Jean, I have suffered with ill-fitting jeans and have a completely incurable case of  "Jeans Envy".   

Everywhere I go, I see other women in the cutest jeans!   And they appear to fit. They look comfortable.  But, more importantly, they do not seem to be CONSTANTLY falling down their backside!  These women can walk down the street, laden with children, purses, cell phones, coffee cups never once having to think about their pants. And never worrying about juggling said possessions so they can "adjust."

I, on the other hand, always need a free hand.  Heck, I could use a third hand, just for this purpose!  A hand ready to grab onto my belt loop and give a quick tug.  And I am always wondering, WHEN are they going to start to slip?  When is it going to appear that my crotch has dropped to my knees?    

  

And I wonder; am I the only woman who suffers from this syndrome?  Why is it I can't seem to find ONE pair that fits me?  

Some of my failed purchases :(

Before the Low Rise Revolution, I could easily walk into The Gap (oh how I miss their old Boot Cut Jean) and purchase a pair in size 4 and feel completely confident that they would fit--and look good.  I wouldn't even have to try them on.  We knew each other that well.     

Or, I could buy a pair of Levis 501s.  The Original.  (I realize I am dating myself by admitting this)  I didn't even mind all those buttons!  They could be ripped open pretty darn quick, if you needed them too.  You know, if you had to pee really bad or something :)     

So why is it these jeans from yesteryear worked so well for me, while today's trends do not?  I mean 501s were essentially, men's jeans, and, even they worked!  

Perhaps that's why:  I am not womanly enough.  Maybe it's not the jeans.  Maybe it's me; my stick-straight, built like a boy body.  Oh to have curves!  

Or perhaps it is BECAUSE I am a woman, that I suffer so?  I mean, honestly, low rise jeans really only work on women girls who have not yet reached puberty or gained an ounce of post-pregnancy baby fat. Right?   

I admit I am considered thin.  However,  I have given birth to two children and, subsequently, have a slight layer of fat around my middle.  Just below my belly button and just above the tops of my pants; which the low rise jeans do absolutely nothing to minimize.  Instead, they seem to provide a shelf, if you will, for said layer to rest upon.  Or droop over, when I no longer have the energy to "suck it in."  

Despite my condition, inevitably, I try again. I carry my haul into the dressing room and try on every pair in my size.  Okay, not true;  not the expensive ones.  I am frugal in the clothing department.  I mean,  I'm not going to pay $75 dollars OR MORE for a pair of pants that aren't even going to stay up!

Then I go through the motions:  

I check them out from all sides and angles.  

I bend over.

I squat down.

I twist.  

Then I Thank God no one can see me.

And, once in a while, I hit gold!   

My New Pair!

Then, glowing with pride, I take my purchase to the cash register.  And I smile all the way home, where I wear them around the house;  making dinner, vacuuming, just to prove to myself that they really do fit.  And they do!

Until the next day.  By then, they have stretched out JUST ENOUGH.  And as I bend over, to sweep up the day's worth of dirt and dog hair from my kitchen floor, I feel that all too familiar cool breeze blowing down yonder.  And I  realize, yet again, I have failed.

Oh just put on a belt you say.  You do not know me.  Just as I hate jeans.  I DO NOT accessorize.  I do not have drawers filled with scarves, jewelry boxes overflowing with coordinating pieces, and I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT wear hats (unless I'm running).  

I have one belt in my possession.  But I don't wear it.  The buckle is too big and I have to go into the third hole, to make it tight enough,  which leaves a big flappy piece waving out from underneath my shirt.

So, instead, I carry on;  constantly tugging, pulling, and shifting.  Wearing long tops and praying for the day that belly button jeans become fashionable once again.

It's either that or I suck it up and get a low back tatt.

Hockey Night in Seattle (Make that Kent)

This is the time of year that Hockey Night in Canada starts to show up consistently on our television.  Since Dave grew up playing hockey, he can't help it.  But last night we decided to make our own hockey night.  So we took Nora Jane to her first hockey game.  Our team, (at least the closest team to Tacoma) The Seattle Thunderbirds, was playing a home game (in Kent) against the Victoria Royals.  I really don't know why a Seattle team doesn't play at a venue IN Seattle; I'm sure it has something to do with money.  But it was a hockey game, and it was Saturday night, so there you go.  


And it was Glow Night.  So, in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Valley Medical Center was hosting Pink the Rink.  And pink it was!  We all got Pink Hats, Pink Glow Sticks, and some of the lucky ones even got pink feather boas.  We were not those people.  But we wore our pink hats proudly (even Dave--and he's NOT one to wear pink) as we cheered the boys.  And I do mean boys, some of these kids are still in high school! 

Ah....crazy fans

I didn't even plan this! 

photo taken by jr.... a little too up close :)

And they played well, scoring the victory for all Seattle and Western Washington Hockey Fans. They even managed to throw in a few minor scuffs for the fans to get excited about.  I was not one of them.  Sorry, but I still cannot understand how Fighting can be allowed in a professional sport.  Dave argues, "It's part of the game. It's tradition!"  And that I do understand. But traditions can change right?  Especially when you see a young Victoria Player get rammed from behind  checked into the glass headfirst by a Thunderbird.  This, then, led to the throwing off of the gloves; which made me worry about, oh, their brains, and their necks, and their bones.  But that is a whole other post.  However, in case you are wondering:  the T-bird earned himself a ten minute misconduct and Victoria took revenge in the last period by a pretty good shove check of their own.  

Despite the fighting, Dave and I had a great time.  Even though Dave's burger was cold (probably because it had to wait for my Philly Cheese Steak to cook) and our beers were eight bucks!  But it was just fun to be a part of a crowd, all cheering together for the same victory.  I didn't know these kids' names, their numbers, or where their families call home, but if they were wearing a blue and green jersey then they were mine for the night.  

Nora, on the other hand, wasn't equally impressed.  She didn't understand why she was being told to 

Reading the reader board for "instructions" 

And the post goal cheer took some training.  It was just a simple four count cheer:  clap, clap, clap, fist pump accompanied by a loud HEY!   But it was new to Nora, who is not the "cheery" type and it required  serious thought :) 

I wish I could have captured her lips counting but, alas, I'm not that good at photography

She did, however, enjoy the trike racing competition after the first period.  Seeing grown ups race around on little kids' bikes is always good for a laugh.

And she liked the "Chuck the Puck" competition after the second period. 

This involved fans chucking foam pucks from the stands down into the sun roof of a Volkswagen Jetta.  Not that they won the Jetta for making their shot, but they did get some free tickets to an upcoming game.  

So midway through the third period, she became "bored."  Honestly, I'm surprised she made it that long.  So she pulled her library book out of my bag (we NEVER go anywhere without it) and read to the end (of the book and the game).  

And then it was time to go home.  

And I had a GREAT time!

I didn't even realize the players had pink tape on their sticks until I got home!
But I love it!  

Final Score:  Seattle (5) Victoria (4) 

A Random Act of Giving

Usually when I go to the store, I spend money.  And in my experience this is true for most people.  Not for my kid though.  She actually earns money!

Case in point:

After school yesterday, Nora and I ran to the Metropolitan Market to pick up a few groceries. Why, you ask,  did I drag a seven year old to the grocery store after sitting all day at school when I had six hours by myself to go shopping?  Good question--I'm not usually so foolish. However, as she unpacked her backpack and started arranging her homework projects, I realized that I did not have all the ingredients I needed for dinner.  Ugh!  So much for preparation.  Nora, however, was all too happy to put her homework on hold for a bit and go with me.

So, as is her custom, she grabbed her book and hopped into the van.  She read said library book on the way to the store.  As we shopped through the store.  And, while we stood waiting our turn in the check out line.  And this, my friends, is where the "incident" occurred.

When it came time to pay for our groceries, Roxanne, the cashier, started talking to Nora.  She asked her how her day was.  How she is liking school. And she even remembered that Nora was reading a Junie B. Jones book the last time we visited the store!  Wow!  What a memory!

Now I should preface this by stating that Roxanne is,  in my experience, THE NICEST grocery store checker in the store.  In the world!  And I have family members, whom I love, who are grocery checkers.  But this woman tops them all.  She is kind.  She always has a smile on her face and she never rushes you--even asking about your day and your family.  She genuinely seems happy to see you EVERYTIME you go through her line.   In short, she makes you feel like a friend.

Now in the past, Roxanne has given Nora stickers for the usual reasons; holidays, or simply for "being a nice girl."  And I'm sure she does this for every kid who comes through her line.  So, when Nora got her usual two stickers (one for her and one to share with a friend), she quietly smiled and said thank you. But then, she was bequeathed an even greater gift:   a two dollar bill!   Yep, Roxanne pulled it right out of her pants pocket.

The Gift

Nora and I were both stunned.  She looked at me.  I looked at Roxanne, and immediately said, "Oh, we can't take that!"  But she insisted:  "it's for keeping up with her reading.  Because kids who keep reading grow up to be smart," she said.   And she's proud of Nora.  (A kid she barely even knows!)  Yet, still I hesitated.  I didn't know what to do in this situation.  Sensing that I was feeling uncomfortable, she informed me that she does this all the time.  She keeps these bills in her pocket and passes them out whenever she catches a kid doing something good.  Wow!  She has that many two dollar bills?  I rarely see them!

Thankfully, she also told Nora that usually a kid cannot accept money from a stranger, but that it was okay for her to take this money since I was with her.  Is it?  Really?   Again she insisted. And then the woman waiting behind me smiled, which somehow indicated to me that it was appropriate.  Or she just wanted me to hurry up and take the money so she, too, could get out of the store.

So, Nora took the money, smiled her thanks, and put the bill inside her book for save keeping.  "Cool! A bookmark," said Roxanne.

The Lucky Beneficiary 

All the way home I smiled.  While I cooked dinner I smiled.  What a nice thing this woman had done for my child.  I told Nora she needs to write her a thank you note....I am a firm believer in The Thank You Note.

So, until you receive your note from junior,  Thank you Roxanne.   Thank you for being kind to my daughter.  I am not sure if Nora fully understands the kindness of your gesture, but I certainly do.

Oh, and by the way, did I mention that Roxanne also always wears cool glasses?  Yep.  She's nice AND cool!

The First Visit

My last post was about Anna heading off to college.  I actually started writing it a couple of months ago.  However, with the craziness of summer and my denial about her actually leaving, it got shelfed.  In real time, she started college on August 22nd.  However, we took her to WSU on August 14th.  After helping her unload her stuff,  get her internet connected, and kiss her goodbye as she went in search of "A Tech Guy," we drove to the hotel where I cried myself to sleep.  Here is the update:

Last weekend Anna came home from school for the first time.  And in typical Anna fashion, there was much speculation about whether or not she would actually arrive.  Of course, there were factors to consider; would she get a ride?  Would they be able to depart WSU when they wanted? Where would she get dropped off/picked up?  So much to think about.


But, after texting me on several occasions, to tell me she was coming home, or wasn't coming home, on Thursday evening THERE SHE WAS!  Live, and in person, at the  U-Village Starbucks.


Her ride, aka her Great Grandma Sierra, who is all of 20 years old, (it's a sorority thing) kindly drove her west and took her back.  Thank you SO much Sierra!


And when Nora Jane and I found her in the midst of all the students and laptops and coffee drinkers, Anna stood up, smiled, and hugged me like I have never been hugged before.  And I have to say, that brief second in time will probably go down in my history as one of my best ever mother/daughter moments.  Then she hugged her sister, REALLY hugged her!


Oh it was good to see her!  She looked the same, yet different.  Older maybe?  It had only been six weeks since I left her on the other side of the state.  But ya, she's different.


She spent the weekend at home happy.  She saw her friends.  She ate meals with us.  She even helped cook one night!  Egads!  And then she helped with the dishes afterward!  Egads again!  I think I like college!   


She went to her sister's soccer game.  She PLAYED with her sister!  

Playing with little

My Weird Family :)

LOVE LOVE LOVE these girlies

She and I went to the movies.  And she told me about school and her sorority.  It was heaven!


On Sunday, when it was time to return her to Seattle to meet up with Sierra, she seemed hesitant, quiet.  Her bags were packed.  A few more pictures were removed from her wall to be transplanted in her dorm room.  She hugged her Dad goodbye, because he had to go to work, and got into the car.  As we pulled out of the driveway, she turned and looked at her Dad to wave one more time.  And that's when I realized it:  She does miss us!


Quickly, I switched from my driving glasses to my sunglasses, even though it was hardly sunny outside, to hide the tears which were beginning to well up in the corners of my eyes. 


We were both quiet for a while, Nora was already deep into her Ramona book.  And then a few miles down the road a song came on the radio which reminded her of her Sorority Recruitment Week and things were okay again.


As I helped her put her things into the back of Sierra's car, I realized that I, too, really had missed her.  I didn't want to and I certainly hadn't expected it.  I was still exhausted from high school, from being the parent of a teenager.  And yet there I was.  Fighting the tears once again, and grateful the sunglasses were still on.  (The sun had actually come out by this point)


I hugged her tight, kissed her cheek, thanked her Great Grandma for driving and asked her to PLEASE text me when she got back to school.  Then she got in the front seat, buckled up, waved goodbye, and was off!  It's funny.  Only a few months ago, I would have panicked at the mere thought of her hitting I-5 and driving to Seattle.  NOW, she is commuting back and forth across the state.  Somehow, it feels alright now.  Okay, she's only a passenger, but still!  My, how I've grown!  She's grown!  


Luckily, Nora and I were right next to a garden store complete with a chicken coop and a garden shed to amuse Nora while I sipped my coffee, wiped my eyes and tried to recompose myself.  After a bit, we got frozen yogurt and headed home.  By the time I was out of the city, I was fine.  I think.

Checking on Nora before I went to sleep last night, I passed Anna's bedroom.   Her door was closed, but she had left the light on.   It looked just like it had on so many other nights.  Nights when Anna was in her room on Facebook studying, or listening to music, or just trying to be anywhere other than where we were.


It made me happy and sad to see that light glow under her door.  I know she is exactly where she needs to be right now.  But I miss her not being here.

Who knew?