Oh Boy

It’s always hard to adjust back to regular life after vacation.  Today I had a salad and water for lunch, then I had to chase it with a Diet Coke and Cheetos (and cookies, yikes) in order to avoid shocking my system.  We had a really wonderful trip, and as I always say (except for that one trip with constant thunderstorms), it was one of our best trips ever.  I’m still trying to sort through pictures and organize my thoughts.  But I do have one thing very clear in my head to get the vacation posts started-

Every single day, I think about the ways that my life is different because I have two sons.  I’m not sure how many other mothers do this, maybe it’s because I never imagined that I would have boys.  Maybe one or two mixed in with some girls, but I never imagined being the only female in my house.  I love every minute of it and I wouldn’t change it for a second, but I’m also constantly amused by the impact.  There were a few moments in the trip that made me think, hmm, this is different.

The line to see Mickey and Minnie was right next to the line to see the princesses.  We got to skip a 30 minute wait to meet the princesses, because no one was interested in that.  But we did wait in line –twice- to see-

In the Magic Kingdom, Rush loved the horses, aka the carousel. He was so proud of riding it all by himself, so he and Trent rode a few more times while Tate and I played around by the stroller. After the ride, I whispered to Trent that I was a little appalled that I had to sit on a carousel horse with a brown saddle. Trent was totally confused and I had to spend a lot of time explaining what –to me- is completely obvious. Waiting in line for a carousel is the time when you search for the most beautiful horse, like the horse with big pink roses on the saddle, and then run to claim that horse and spend the ride sitting up straight and smiling at all the peasants adoring you. I gave up the beautiful rosebud horse this time and picked the horses with the most manly saddles for Rush and Tate. After explaining all this, Trent just looked at me and said, “I just sat down on the first horse I saw.”

I can’t comprehend that mindset.

I’m really obsessed with the little girls walking around in their princess dresses at Disney World.  If that had been a thing when I was a little girl, I would have worn my princess dress every single day.  Now there are little princess dresses scattered throughout the park, some with sane, common sense parents (likely Target shoppers) and some who are walking out of the Bibbidi Boppidi Botique.  Disney has set up a boutique where little girls can buy a princess dress and get their hair styled into a bun and put on make-up for TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS.  Do these people not have Targets where they could buy these dresses for $20?  How difficult is it to put on blue eye shadow in the hotel room?  Overall, I love little kids dressing up in costume, live your dreams girls.  But $200 for something so easily accomplished on your own is so overboard that I’m shocked by how many people do it.

In the same spirit of living his dream, Rush brought his Buzz Lightyear Halloween costume on the trip.  The costume had been long forgotten in the bottom of the hamper with all the other “hand wash only” clothes.  We found it about a week before vacation and Rush said he wanted to take it to “show Buzz Lightyear.”  So we packed it, and about 10 minutes before the Pixar parade in Hollywood Studios, Rush put on his costume.

It was a really fabulous, high energy parade, and a lot of the dancers came up to Rush during the parade to say things like, “Hi Buzz!”  It was all very exciting.  The final float in the parade had the Toy Story characters and Buzz Lightyear definitely noticed Rush, pointing to his eyes and then to Rush and waving.  Rush was calm about the whole thing, happily waving, and Trent and I played it cool as well, screaming RUSH RUSH BUZZ LIGHTYEAR SAW YOU HE WAVED AT YOU HE LOVES YOUR COSTUME HE WAVED AT YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Fourteen exclamation points only slightly emphasize our mania.

Rush stayed in costume the rest of the day.  If it becomes a thing to wear Buzz Lightyear or Woody costumes around Disney World, we started that.

We went to the Lego store at Downtown Disney twice. Legos aren’t really a boys only thing, I personally have always enjoyed Legos, but I’m not sure that I would have ever chosen to spend so much time in the Lego store on vacation.  I did pull an unintentional Becky Bloomwood on the way to our second visit to the store, when I justified buying a container of Legos with the phrase, “It’s an investment in our future.”  I’m just really a sucker for anything that you can fill for a set price, like as many Legos as you can fit into a container for $X.  It’s the challenge, plus getting to look at the other shoppers’ containers and think, ha suckers, I fit way more blocks into my cup.

I don’t want to overemphasize gender stereotypes too much because Rush was really excited to see Tinker Bell fly from the castle.  But that’s the only example I can think of that breaks the gender role mold.  Gender stereotypes, you win this time.

We’re Baaaaaaack

Never Say Never

About a month or two before Tate was born, our next door neighbors moved.  I was hoping that a family with a stay at home mom with little kids would move into their house, because at that point I didn’t realize that there are bigger things to hope for in new neighbors when you’re in your childbearing years.  You know what’s better?  A personal trainer.

I remember talking to Nick when Tate was a few weeks old and he mentioned that he was thinking of starting a neighborhood boot camp.  I told him that if he did, either Trent or I would come.  Of course I really meant Trent would go.  He’s the “yes” person of our team.  He’s the man who once went on a sailing trip to Maine with two people he barely knew.  I’m more of the I have a previous commitment/I don’t want to drive anywhere/my stomach hurts/my mom said I couldn’t go/I just have to many things going on right now/the kids are sick/I just don’t want to person.

But when it came down to actually meeting at the park at a specific date and time, Trent refused.  His reasoning was that I was the one who committed us, so I had to go.  I was –yet again- reminded why I should never say I’ll never do something.  Saying it out loud guarantees that I will do it.  I’ll never go to a huge state school.  I’ll never work in corporate America.  I’ll never be a stay-at-home mom.  (What was my plan, exactly?)   I’ll never cut bangs for myself again.  I’ll never do a boot camp. 

And yet there I was, out at the park twice a week working out with my neighbors.  Then the time changed and it was too dark at the park, so we moved to Nicks garage and there I was, lifting weights in a garage with a group of neighborhood men and Korn blasting away in the background.  For some reason there was a brief period when I was the only female who could show up and if there were ever a glimpse of my life that I could show my younger self, it would be one of those dude-garage work-outs.  16-year-old Kelly could just sit in shock and go What. Is. Happening.

Now, a year after our first boot camp, Nick is heading off to physical therapy school and we’re all on our own.  But the good news is that we’re all on our own as the newer, better versions of ourselves.  He not only got us all into the routine of working out, but he built up a community.  I had a girls dinner with a group of neighborhood friends tonight and it was boot camp that made those friendships happen.  Nick was the neighborhood Mary Poppins, showing up when we needed him, the leaving us all with a new group of friends and gym memberships.  The analogy fits perfectly if you can also imagine Mary Poppins occasionally making fun of the Banks children for lack of coordination.

I can’t say that I’m in peak physical condition, but that’s my own fault for skipping the cardio I was assigned to do on my own twice a week. Well, the lack of cardio paired with my affinity for white wine and popcorn. But under the wine-popcorn layer, I’m a different, stronger version of myself. When my gym membership starts in June, I’ve got the experience and confidence to skip the machines and go straight for the free weights at the gym, possibly while wearing weight lifting gloves.

I spent the last few weeks of boot camp trying (at times unsuccessfully) to hold back from making Leslie Knope-esque speeches about my boot camp experience.  The twice weekly workouts over the past year have been good for me in ways that go beyond my physical well being.  Collapsing while trying to do push ups and having someone tell you “Sometimes it’s good to push yourself to the point of failure.” is a lesson about bigger things than core strength.  

It’s all a big reminder to say yes to more things, or at the very least not writing things off as nevers.

It’s Not Quite Homesteading

I still want to talk about the Little House books – anyone else interested? Trent’s past the point of even being able to listen or respond.  When we’re trying to figure out something in our yard and I respond with, “We should ask Almanzo,” Trent just shakes his head and walks away.

We have eaten a few glorious, meaty, juicy red tomatoes.  I’m the big winner because I’m the only one who wants to eat them.  When we cut into the first tomato of the season, Trent said, “Oh yeah, tastes just like a home grown tomato.  I do not like that taste.”  He’s so into a growing tomatoes, taking the boys outside every day after work to check on them, that I forget that he doesn’t like to eat them unless they’re contributing to a sauce or salsa.  So more for me.  There is nothing like a fresh tomato on a sandwich.  My favorite sandwich of the moment:  toasted wheat bread, mustard, hummus, avocado, fat tomato slice, maybe lettuce or spinach if we have it. 

I might add bell pepper to the sandwich soon.

We’ve also had three ripe blueberries.  One of our blueberry plants has produced a few berries, the other is alive but not growing.  I wasn’t expecting to see any blueberries for a few years (based on the scientific approach of reading one website and maybe remembering that – or not- where’s Almanzo???) so I’m happy with three blueberries.

The other parts of the Summer 2012 Williams Garden are jalapenos, garlic, and herbs.  Not featured are the green beans and onions that never got planted.  Our small garden continues to be a minor supplement to our groceries, but nothing beats the smell of a tomato plant. It’s worth it just to stick my face into the plant and breathe and time travel to Gran and Pop’s house.

House Blessing

My little brother Hunter, who saved every quarter our grandparents ever gave us and probably used those quarters as a down payment, recently bought a house and my whole family congregated there last weekend for his house blessing.

The house is pretty awesome, and I wanted to just blow in like a giant storm and sweep away the whole house, including its spacious floor plan and exposed brick dining room and huge backyard with established trees and relocate it for myself.  His girlfriend Caroline is a florist, so she arrived with sunflowers and made the house immediately look magazine worthy. 

We were the first weekend guests to arrive, so unfortunately Hunter wasted the clutter-free countertops on us because we do tend to arrive with a tornado of matchbox cars and phone chargers and people who start opening kitchen cabinets and emptying them onto the floor.  My sister’s family arrived the same way a few hours later and while Casey would have previously (and did again this weekend) chastised me for leaving crap everywhere, she’s a mother now too and left her share of sippy cups laying about.  Because the house blessing and party were planned for Saturday night, we all thought it was best to head to the zoo with my dad and leave my mom and Hunter to cook and get ready for the party.  

I may have mentioned it once or twice before, but I’m not ashamed to post the same things over and over after every trip to Tyler.  The Caldwell Zoo is just the best.  We headed straight for the Wild Bird Encounter.

I’m not sure what the difference was, cooler weather maybe, but the birds were the feistiest I’ve ever seen them.  They didn’t hesitate to climb onto the popsicle stick of bird food, or onto your hands or back or shoes.

My dad was the official photographer last weekend, which explains why these picture are a million times better than the pictures usually featured here.  That also explains why he’s not in any of the pictures, although that is his foot.

I love a good candid action shot, and here’s why:  What is happening just to the left of the next picture?  Trent and Chris were both watching the same thing and they don’t look to excited about it.  Mystery!

My dad bought what we call a “Norwegian lunch” for Rush – ice cream.

No trip to the Caldwell Zoo is complete without a stop in the gift shop for fifty cent (yes!  best gift shop ever!)  animal print sunglasses.

The house blessing that evening was wonderful.  There was a great crowd of people of all ages, from my 10 month old niece to some older (older like old enough to have kids in high school) people from my brother’s church.  We all gathered in the entry way of the home, then moved as a group from room to room.  In each room the priest would say a prayer relevant to the location, for example, by the front door, praying for the people who would be coming and going and that the home would be welcoming.  I think that was the gist of it.  At the time I was trying to keep Rush from escaping to the backyard, but I’m pretty sure that’s what happened. 

I do know that I was so proud of my brother and happy for him, not necessarily because he took the step of buying a house, but because he’s making a good life for himself.  It was hard when he was a recent college graduate, living in a seedy apartment complex in a town where he didn’t know anyone.  A few years later he has a very nice place to live (I fall asleep dreaming about how I would arrange my furniture in that house) and a community of people who obviously care about him.  Most of his friends at the party were from church and I’m so happy that he found the church and became an active part of it.  I can see how that is enriching his life.

Also, the priest’s daughter walked in and immediately declared that she and Rush were getting married.  Rush told her they should wait until they could get married in a castle. 

A house blessing is also of course a party, so we ate and celebrated and talked until everyone left, then we stayed up to play a board game.

It is very disturbing to me that a can of Sprite looks so much like a can of Miller Light.  I spent half of my evening doing double takes over that can.  Since when are lemon-lime drinks blue?

The weekend wrapped up with the perfect example of why Mother’s Day is, let’s all go ahead and admit it, the stupidest holiday.  Tate woke up at 2 AM on Sunday morning making the most horrible, can’t breathe, barking cough.  It was terrifying.  Thankfully my mom was there, so I woke her up and we stayed with Tate in the backyard until who knows what time, trying to calm him down and debating whether or not to go to the emergency room.  So Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.  I’m a grown woman and you stayed up half the night with me; here’s some granola that I made for you.  Flowers, cards, diamond tennis bracelets, a mason jar of granola, it’s pathetic to think that any of these things would be enough to thank my mother or let her know how much I love and appreciate her.  Granola.  Come on.

Tate is fine, by the way.  When I took him to the doctor on Monday morning, she did assure me that it was highly unlikely that he picked up any strange virus from licking the birdseed popsicle every few minutes. 

In the end, I just wish Tyler was closer and not hours away.