I-A-N. Ian!

There are some milestones in your child's life that you just know will be exciting. Like, the first time they smile or crawl or walk or talk. But last week we had one that I didn't expect (perhaps because I never thought about it): Ian wrote his name for the first time! And, it was actually legible! Okay, well, it was mostly legible.

It happened while we were out to dinner one night. He was drawing "pictures" with crayons. Jeff and I were talking and he said something like, "Look, I wrote my name!" Of course, my first thought was, "Right, of course you did..." Then, I looked over and he really did! We asked him to show us, and with full concentration, he did it again. The I and A were quite decent, while it was clear the N was a little more difficult. More like a sideways S, really. And, it was backwards. But hey, it's a start!

The ironic thing about this was that a couple of weeks earlier I was reading online that it's not uncommon for kids around his age to start writing their names. I was quite taken back to see this because I didn't sense he was close to being able to form letters on his own. I even went as far as asking his teacher about it a few days later and her response was that he was not old enough yet to be concerned about whether or not he could write his name. Her suggestion was to continue doing a lot of reading and to encourage him to draw, and that the letters would come eventually. Okie dokie.

And then not long after that, we had our little milestone! I don't know what it is, but there seems to be something particularly neat about seeing him learning to actually write and form words on his own. He's also generally starting to show a lot of curiosity with words - saying the letters and asking what word it spells. For example, he did this with the Jif peanut butter jar this morning - pointed out the J-I-F and asked what it spelled, and then, what that meant. Oh, and on a somewhat related note, we are also suddenly being asked what the name of every song is on the radio. Yesterday, I had to say, "Well, this song is called Bad Girls by Donna Summer," which seemed potentially inappropriate. It didn't seem to phase him, though. He just said, "Oh," and kept right on playing his air drums (another new trend) in the back seat.

Anyway, back to that whole name writing thing...we were quite the proud parents that evening, I must say. Here's some evidence:

Until I write again.

Going to new Depths

Our shopping trips to our local New Seasons are always somewhat dangerous for me because in addition to their great selection of edible products, they happen to have a pretty great department of all natural, organic bath and beauty products. Undoubtedly, I often find myself venturing over to these aisles for a quick scan of the latest and greatest products available for purchase.

A couple of weeks ago we were in the store hightailing it to the produce department (after all, you know how committed I am to my fruits and veggies), walking right past the beauty products when a new product caught my eye. It was prominently displayed at the end of one of the

aisles. (Those product placement people are soooo smart!) It was in pretty blue packaging - and let's face it, I'm a sucker for pretty packaging - and the name was Depth. There was a lotion, a body wash, hand soap, shave cream, shampoo and conditioner. The lotion had a tester so, among the four they had available, I selected a scent called "Ocean Blossom." Suffice it to say that it was love at first smell. I spent the rest of the time in the store sniffing my hands to take it all in. Hopefully that didn't look too strange.

That night I did some quick research online on this new Depth product and liked what I saw. It's a fairly young company that was started by a husband and wife who are/were marine biologists. As stated on their Web site, one of the reasons they started the company was to bring the "beauty, abundance and therapeutic benefits of marine botanicals to consumers..." I like that. The product line is organic and natural. And did I mention it smells heavenly and has lovely environmentally friendly packaging? Of course, the neatest part is that a percentage of the sale of every product goes toward a nonprofit camp in Monterey Bay that provides marine experiences to underprivileged children and instills in them a love and respect for the sea and marine life. Oh, and it also smells great. And, the packaging is lovely. (Did I already say that?)

While Ian and I were at New Seasons on Monday, I decided it was time to stop draining their lotion testers and took the plunge (pun intended) with my first Depth purchase - the daily shampoo. I've only used it a couple of times but so far, it's great. So, I guess it's safe to say they've got a new fan. And they aren't even paying me to write this! (Hey, isn't that how this blogging thing is really supposed to work??)

Until I write again.

Didn't I say I wasn't going to do that?

Right from the beginning of this second pregnancy I knew that one of the things I wouldn't have spend any time worrying about this time around was room preparation. Well, okay, let me back up and say that I did know we would need to decide which room this little one would occupy but once that decision was made - it would be smooth sailing. I mean, I already had all the stuff. The bedding, the furniture, the wall hangings, etc. What a relief, right? Yeah, right.

Of course, first let's not underestimate the magnitude of the actual room decision. And honestly, we've known this might become a bit of an issue at some point from oh, say, the day we put an offer in on this house. Sadly, what was not at issue was the fact that Jeff would be kicked out of his office. Yeah sure, he happens to use that room to help generate our family income when he's not on client site - but still - something needed to give and his office was it. (Unfortunately, while it seems that the most obvious solution would be for him to take over the downstairs den/office area, the design of the built-in work space in that room does not work well for people taller than about five feet. It actually would have worked better for us if they had left that room as an empty space.) So, we knew from the start that his office would likely be relocating to the basement area, making it a dual purpose second living/office area.

But the next question was whether that office would become the new baby's room or the new guest room (obviously making the current guest room the new baby's room). This is where our opinions differed. My husband, Mr. I-look-at-everything-from-a-very-logical-point-of-view, was strongly in favor of using the small room as the baby's room. His argument being: A) How much space does one little tiny baby need? (um, did he notice the size of our last one?); B) It would be all the more convenient to have the kid right next door as Ian was when he was a little tike; and C) While we do love every one of our guests dearly, the current guest bedroom location just seems a little more natural than the smaller room right next door to ours. Meanwhile, my argument was that while I totally got all of his arguments, I just happen to like the other bedroom more. It's larger, it's brighter, it has a better view out the windows and well, it just makes me happier when I'm in there. So, we'd broach the subject every now and then. He'd voice his opinion. I'd do the whole, "I hear you" thing and then make my perhaps more subjective but I felt, equally compelling, arguments and then we'd drop it for a while.

Until one day not all that long ago, I was on Facebook and saw a post from Sharon, who (along with her husband) bought our old house in Arlington and also happens to be pregnant with their second child. She had a status update about being so pleased that Restoration Hardware Baby & Child had so much great gender-neutral stuff for decorating their new baby's room. This immediately spelled trouble. Restoration Hardware? Baby & Child? Hmmm...I knew they had dipped their toes into the baby market but how far? I figured I'd go check out the site. You know, just for fun. And off I went. Within a few clicks I was perusing multiple pages of what had clearly become an entirely new business line for RH. And first of all, let me ask, how did I miss this when I was going through all these decor issues with Ian's room? Annoying. And second of all, it was like one-stop baby room shopping! Great colors that weren't too cutesy (and Sharon was right - some very nice gender-neutral selections) with coordinating bedding, lighting, wall colors (all their stuff matches their paint colors perfectly - imagine that!) and let's not forget a plethora of coordinating overpriced accessories that include wall hangings, storage baskets, blankets, stuffed animals, etc.

By my fifth or so visit to the site, there was a plan forming in that planner head of mine. It went something like this: "Well, you know, maybe - just maybe - I wouldn't feel as bad about that little room if we spruce it up a bit. You know, paint the walls a lighter color to brighten it up and make it seem larger, change out the bedding..." And before I knew it, the UPS man was dropping this off at our door:

For anyone wondering what the heck it is - it's a crib bumper. A cuddle plush crib bumper in chocolate with silver sage piping, to be specific. Which, I know are somewhat controversial these days, but we did use one with Ian until he was five(ish) months - which is probably how this one will go as well and why I purchased it for 50% off. So, suffice it to say that we have a plan now, which is that our new bundle of joy will be occupying Jeff's former office next to our room for at least the first year or two. The guest room will remain as-is for now (minus some closet reorg). We'll be using all of Ian's old baby furniture (I didn't go that out of my mind!) with the new bumper, a new sheet and crib skirt (both identified but I'm waiting to see if they also go on sale at some point since we have time) - along with likely a new table lamp and shade, and perhaps some new storage baskets that match the new colors. The wall color will be RH's Silver Sage - though there's a decent chance we'll use the Benjamin Moore match called Gray Wisp simply because we like BM paints and know we can get a good quality low VOC option there.

And last, but not least, the one remaining issue with the smaller room was/is the closet. It's a fairly small closet that has one hanging bar that is up way too high for it to be functional for me on a daily basis. So, the solution there is that we'll be taking out the existing bar and shelf, patching/prepping the closet and installing a new Elfa closet system from the Container Store that will have a combination of hanging space, drawers and shelving. And with that, I can now report that our next child will not be homeless. Item one checked off the list, only about fifty three more to go and we'll be ready. Oh, and if anyone needs a like-new cute lamb baby bedding set from Pottery Barn Kids - complete with matching rug - it'll be on Portland's Craigslist soon.

Until I write again.

Take me out to the ball game

This afternoon we took Ian to his first ever live sporting event: A Portland Beavers baseball game. The Beavers are a Minor League farm team for the San Diego Padres. Unfortunately, they may not be in Portland much longer because their home field - PGE Park - is in jeopardy to due the arrival of a Major League Soccer team in Portland soon. (Apparently Portland is more of a soccer town than baseball town, so the Beavers may be gone by 2011.) Which made it even more imperative that we make it to one of their games! Plus, Sundays are kids' day at the park where kids eat free before the game and they have a game area set up for them, in addition to other activities.

PGE Park is on the edge of downtown so rather spend a couple of hours in search of street parking, we opted to take the "electric train," as Ian calls it. Of course this mode of transportation also earned us triple bonus points for the day given that the ride there and back was half the fun. A mere $15 got us all in the gate for general admission seating which allowed us to pick any seat we wanted in the upper half of the stadium. Sadly, the crowds were not huge (perhaps more evidence why the Beavers may not be around much longer) but it still had all the makings of a good day at the ballpark: a warm day, overpriced food, (relatively) good music and vendors circling with every type of junk food you can imagine.

The actual game portion of the outing kept Ian's attention for approximately three innings before he became more interested in walking around, climbing the stairs and generally not sitting still for more than two seconds. That said, he is a very loyal and enthusiastic clapper and always took a moment out from other activities to participate in cheering on the home team. By the fourth inning we headed over the kids' area where Ian participated in a little batting practice himself before he announced that he was ready to hop the train back home. We were really hoping he'd make it to the seventh inning so he could hear Take Me Out to the Ball Game given he recently learned that song at school and has been quick to add it to his concert repertoire at home. However, it clearly wasn't meant to be for today, so off we went to catch the

train for the few stops to our home station.

As for me, that was my first Minor League game ever, I believe. I did have a moment where I wished that we had the opportunity to take him to a Washington Nationals game in their new stadium (the stadium was still being built when we moved) and of course taken the Metro to get there. Boy, he would have just been beside himself with the whole Metro system! But, as Jeff rightly pointed out, he could care less about the difference between the minors and majors or what stadium he's in....he was just happy to be part of a real sporting event. (Though, we do have hopes of taking him up for Seattle for a Mariners' game at some point.) Maybe next time we'll even make it to the seventh inning stretch.

Until I write again.

How our son spent his "rest time" yesterday

Ian was never the type of baby who was "into everything," as they say. Once he became mobile, I must say that we got by with minimal baby proofing because he was just the type of kid who, as soon as we said "No!" would turn and go the other direction. No issues. No questions asked. (Maybe because he couldn't talk at the time?) Plus, we also just made it policy to not divert our eyes from him for too long. So, suffice it to say that aside from some sensible safety basics, that hiding everything, putting locks on cabinets, toilet seats, etc. was not as much of a concern for us as it might be for some others who have little ones of a more exploratory nature, shall we say. Bottom line: It was just never a problem with him. Until yesterday.

After a somewhat crazy, but enjoyable morning at OMSI - we came home and did the usual routine of lunch, clean up and a little Sesame Street before it was time to head upstairs for "rest time." As I've mentioned several times before here, rest time rarely involves actual sleeping these days. But still, the idea is to spend some quiet time "resting" in his room. The reality is that since moving into a bed and becoming potty trained, rest time for Ian is more about seeing how many times one can go to the bathroom in an hour. And believe me, if there was a category for this in the Guinness Book of World Records, he would hold the record for sure.

However, yesterday started out a little different. Things were quiet. Very quiet, actually. So much so that for a good while I was almost convinced that maybe this was one of those rare days where he actually fell asleep. So, I went about my business downstairs and after an hour and a half, went up to retrieve him for a snack and some play time before we headed out to his last swim lesson of the season. When I reached the top of the stairs I noticed that the bathroom door was closed and the light was on. Okay, so this was probably trip #50 to the bathroom today and he had just managed to be extra quiet. As I try to do before entering, I quickly knocked and opened the door. What I found was not a pretty scene.

Ian, who was standing on his step stool at the sink with sunscreen tube in hand, turned to see me with a look of surprise and horror on his face at clearly being caught mid-act. And speaking of his face, it just so happened to be covered in pure white - along with part of his hair, shirt, the counter and the wall behind him. The top drawer was wide open and sprawled out on the counter was a cocktail, really, of open toothpaste tubes, lotions, sunscreens, Neosporin, Aquaphor, you name it. Quite shocked I said, "Ian! What are you doing??!," for which his response was to immediately scrunch up his white face and eyes and start bawling, accompanied by the now typical chant of, "I want my daddy! I want my daddy!" The sight was more than I could take. Not quite sure how to handle this appropriately, I immediately did what any parent would do when they've just found their preschooler covered head to toe in white lotions: I left the room and went into our bedroom and laughed. Quietly, of course. More than anything, I really wanted to go downstairs and get my camera to capture this moment and then of course post it to Facebook, Twitter, this blog and any other online forum I could think of - but my logical parent brain kicked into gear and I decided that pulling out the camera might not be the best way to discourage this type of activity in the future. So sadly, no photos.

Once I regrouped, I returned to the scene of the crime where Ian was still standing there just as I had left him crying for his daddy. Still somewhat shocked at what he had done and buying time for what my next move should be, I asked him, "Why do you want daddy?" "Because I don't like you!," he said. Geez, and I hadn't even done anything yet, but thanks, I'll tuck that one in my back pocket for later. Maybe it was a combination of those words, the mess that was on the counter, the wasted sunscreen (which isn't cheap, by the way) and the fact that it was clear that he now needed a bath - that finally kicked me into the "okay, now I'm upset" mode. Luckily I had recently reread our Love and Logic book so my brain did a quick scan to recall what would the authors would say to do in this particular situation. Answer (I think): We had a problem and he needed to be a participant in helping me solve it.

Me: So, it looks like you've decided to make a big mess here. How do you think we're going to get this cleaned up?

Ian: I don't know! (Followed by more "Wahhh!! I want my daddy!" Puhleease, enough already.)

Me: Well, daddy isn't here and he's not going to help you clean this up. Do you have any other ideas?

Ian: No.

Me: Well, let me give you some ideas...

I was winging it, really. (After all, isn't that what first time parenting is all about?) But the bottom line is that we agreed that he'd help me clean up what he could and then he had to choose a toy that he couldn't play with through the weekend. In addition, he would not be having his current favorite snack (graham crackers and peanut butter) that afternoon and through the weekend, as well as any tostadas (aka, cheese quesadillas, which continue to be his favorite food and I'm positive he'd eat them for every single meal if we let him). "Okay," he said. (Sniff, sniff.)

And that is how our son spent his "rest time" yesterday.

Until I write again.

The Somewhat (infrequent) Daily Quote

Mommy, I'm done talking now about the days of the week. You can focus on your driving and I'll just sit here, okay?

Followed a minute later by...

Mommy, how is your new hair color?

-Ian Burpo, Age 3, heard while driving to school this morning after I had been quizzing him for a few minutes on the days of the week. I guess he got tired of playing along. So thoughtful of him to ask about my hair though! (It was a big day yesterday on the hair front - I finally took the plunge and got it highlighted to help hide the gray that was overtaking my head at light speed.) So the answer was, "I'm quite pleased with it, thank you very much for asking."

Until I write again.

Arlington: The Rap

A friend posted this hilarious video from YouTube on Facebook. I thought it captured our old hood so perfectly that I had to post it here. And sadly, it made me feel terribly homesick. Not sure what that says about me but I could make a couple of guesses.

Until I write again.

Add this to the list of things no one told me about parenting (May milestones, part two)

In addition to moving into a real bed, we also tackled the potty training issue once and for all in May. With surprising success, I might add. After nearly a year of casually "practicing" on the potty, Ian still appeared to be taking very little initiative on his own to advance toward being trained. So, with the clock ticking on a couple of different fronts at this point, we decided that it was time to push him off the deep end, so to speak. Enter Operation Potty Training Boot Camp (OPTBC).

We selected Memorial Day weekend for OPTBC because we knew that would give us four solid days where he was not scheduled to be in school and we could stay tethered to the house. (Adios annual Memorial Day day trip to Cannon Beach.) Now, Memorial Day weekend in Portland is known for its awful weather. Cool temperatures, rain, lots of clouds...according to local sources, it's been this way for years. Except, of course, the year we decide to stay at home all weekend. The weather could not have been more gorgeous, really. But was this surprising? Of course not. And to be fair, we did have a ton of beautiful weather in May - except the first week when Chris and Karen were visiting where it just so happens we had some amazingly soggy and dreary days. But again, was this surprising? Of course not.

So, we started warning Ian about a week beforehand that come Saturday morning, he would no longer be wearing diapers. Against my better taste, but going by my Good Mother Training Manual, I even took him to Target to pick out some underwear. He picked out Thomas the Train. Yippee. (Actually, it was better than some.) He also got to pick out his own candy reward. He originally picked out Snickers or something like that but I gently suggested M&Ms might be a better choice. (One for you...one for me. One for you...one, two for me!) In all seriousness, the M&Ms were another book suggestion because they are small and easy to give as frequent rewards. Versus say, a whole mini Snickers every time. I mean, I love Snickers and all but something didn't seem right about potentially feeding him multiple little candy bars in one day.

So, Saturday morning we all woke up bright and early with positive attitudes - ready to tackle OPTBC with zest! On went the underwear and away went the diapers. (Okay, well they were actually just in the closet, but whatever. You get the point.) By approximately 10 a.m. we had dealt with three "accidents." Luckily, all on the hardwood floor - which may have had something to do with the fact that he was banned from sitting on the couch or really going anywhere that didn't have a hard, easy to clean surface. Just kidding. Sort of. Okay, we did make him sit on a towel on the couch. Still, attitudes were positive. After all, accidents were all part of the OPTBC agenda. Then came another. And another. And another. And...somewhere between 2 and 3 p.m. and the sixth or seventh accident - Patty Positive left for the beach and Nancy Negative showed up. It was somewhere around this general time frame that, after cleaning up yet another accident and taking a few deep breaths, I recall that I got down on the floor with him, took him gently, yet firmly by the arms, looked him in the eye and said, "Ian, do you want to go on the potty?" He said yes. "Then you need to tell us and get to the potty before you go. We can't do this for you. You have the power to decide if you want to go potty on the potty or continue having accidents. So, just let us know when you want to start going on the potty." Or something profound like that.

Not all that long after that we were downstairs and I heard, "Mommy, I have to go pee peeeee!!!" We all jumped up and ran to the bathroom like our lives were at stake. He sat down. And he went! There was jumping. There was cheering. There was hugging. And most importantly, there were M&Ms. For all of us! Now, I can't recall the exact sequence of events at this point - but from the hours of approximately 4 or 5 p.m. and 8 p.m., and into Sunday - suddenly Ian was declaring his need to use the toilet about every five minutes. And a few times he went. But more often, he'd eek something out and declare that he was deserving of an M&M. We'd no sooner have him put back together, hands washed, stool put back, sit back down and the process would start all over again. Hmmm....now wait a minute here. It didn't take us long to figure out that we were being played like a fiddle. Barely one challenge conquered before another one began. Sigh. Later on Sunday - when we couldn't take being tied to the house anymore (minus one quick and frantic trip to Fred Meyer earlier that day) - we ventured over to the neighbors' house to check out their new margarita machine. Correction. One of us checked it out while the other one "enjoyed" a strawberry icee with the three, four and five year olds. (Are we having fun yet?) Our neighbor said, "Are you using the M&Ms as reward for going?" "Um, yeah." "Oh, we made that mistake too." "You have to reward them for staying clean and dry all day." "Oh, that makes much better sense!" I guess I missed that page of the manual. So after we got back home we informed Ian that there had been a slight change in the reward plan, which he seemed okay with.

By Monday morning, things were going downright well. The every five minutes thing had subsided and he hadn't had an accident since Saturday afternoon. Things were going so well that we even ventured out on some errands. On Wednesday morning, I happily delivered him to school where he proudly announced to his teacher that he was wearing underwear. Which reminds me that my child - who normally will not say a peep to strangers who try to be friendly with him - also out of the blue announced to the checkout cashier at the grocery store the day before that he was wearing underwear. Luckily she must have had kids or something because she seemed very excited for him.

Our accident-free streak continued, minus one or two nighttime issues that weren't Ian's fault, for several days until just this Tuesday. Just prior to his "rest time" we had a little behavior challenge where I let him get the better of me (bad me) and immediately after that he had a clearly on-purpose accident in his underwear (I won't go into the gory details). But then immediately ran to sit on the potty to finish up, so I guess he wasn't completely committed to it. But that seemed to be an isolated incident. So far, at least.

However, I won't say that the process has been challenge-free. Remember last time when I said that he complied with staying in his room despite his newfound freedom out of the crib? Um yeah, well we regressed on that front slightly. In an effort to help him advance to being completely trained (including at night) we told him that if he was ever in his room and felt like he needed to go - that he should feel free to come out and go to the bathroom, ask for help if he needed it and then go back to his room. I'm pretty sure I saw a little sparkle in his eye and a devilish grin on his face when we revealed this new detail to him. Because not long after he was suddenly needing to go potty an awful lot during rest time - and more surprisingly since he's always been a champ about going to bed at night - after bedtime. One night last Thursday or so he appeared in the living room half naked long after we thought he was asleep declaring he had gone potty! Upstairs we went to get cleaned up and ushered him back to bed, only for it to happen two more times before the hour was up. And it was during So You Think You Can Dance for crying out loud. The nerve!

Once again faced with a new challenge and really not sure what to do in order to continue to encourage him to go while sending the message that games are not acceptable - we finally went with our gut and imposed a consequence for every time he got up to go and didn't actually produce. It sort of worked because things slowed down right after that, but challenges remain. Last night I was out and Jeff found him wandering around upstairs after bedtime - not even under the pretense of needing to sit on the potty. Just out of bed wandering. You know, just because he can. And, we are having issues in the morning as well. Last Saturday he showed up by our bedside just before 6 a.m., which should just flat out be against the law. This, of course, was really the inevitable part of ditching the cage-like sleeping arrangements. And people wonder why we held out as long as possible...

Which brings me back around to the meaning of the title of this entry. For some strange reason, I was under the impression that potty training is, in part, such a huge milestone because no more diapers would equal much less work for mom and dad. But since we embarked on this adventure I have sadly learned that this is not the case. So far, at least. In fact, I could make several arguments to the contrary: that Ian being potty trained is actually MORE work now. First of all, he is far from being self sufficient now. We have finally started to put our foot down (again, and impose a consequence) for his tendency - and clear enjoyment - for pulling everything off, going potty - and then just running out of the bathroom to declare Mission Accomplished! with no clothes on. At which point we have to get him back to the bathroom, help with any necessary clean up, help him get his underwear right side out again, make sure he gets them on by himself without dawdling for 20 minutes, and make sure he washes his hands without throwing water all over the bathroom (or with the case downstairs, he can't even reach the sink by himself, even on a stool). Then there's the whole sleep disturbance (for all of us) and wandering out of his room issue. And I haven't even touched on the whole new level of anxiety associated with outings, especially ones where we know there will not be a clean restroom or sometimes, any restroom nearby.

Still, apparently I hear that this whole learning to use the potty is a good thing in the long run, so I guess we'll stick with it. And I have to say that I probably had more anxiety over how to tackle this whole potty training thing possibly more than any other part of parenting so far. While much of it has been about just going with our gut instinct, I must admit that there was many a day when I just felt lost on how exactly to go about training, despite reading about different techniques. I also had more than one person tell me that I needed to be prepared that OPTBC may not be successful because even though we were ready, he may not be ready. But we are very proud of him and looking back, I have to say that once we all pushed off the deep end and made a focused effort on mastering the core skills, if you will, it was a relatively quick and painless process. Hopefully I will not be eating those words any time soon.

Until I write again.

NOTICE: To protect the innocent, no pictures are provided with this entry.

May milestones, part one

I'd be remiss if I let too much time go by without writing about some big milestones that occurred in the Burpo house last month. (Which, by the way, may have had something to do with the fact that I did not post at all last month.) Of course I already mentioned the big first trip to Disneyland. In addition, we also had a very fun visit from Grandpa Chris and Grandma Karen who were, among other things, kind enough to help us get our front and back yard looking quite lovely for spring. However, there was other big news as well! Three "newsworthy" events, as a matter of fact. And, just so I don't make this one very long and boring post, I've decided to write about them in separate posts. So, here's a recap of the first event of the month:

At last, I'm very proud to report that we can now safely say that Ian will not still be in his crib when he starts high school. Or even kindergarten. Yes folks, as of mid-May he started sleeping in a real, full-size bed. After months of deliberation on furniture, bedding, wall colors, etc., etc. the room finally started coming together on a Saturday morning the second or so weekend of May. And let me say that it was a truly exhausting weekend at that. Grandpa Chris and Grandma Karen had just departed that Friday morning. With Maria still on the DL, the house was due for yet another cleaning, so - after picking up all the paint supplies for Ian's new room - I spent a good chunk of the day doing some manual labor. Woe is me. By Friday eve, as usual, my dogs were barking - which is exactly how you want to feel when you are about to wake up early the next morning to start painting and putting together furniture for a bedroom.

Without going through all the gory details of striped walls that later became unstriped or how perhaps it wasn't the best idea in the world to tackle an all-weekend project the very weekend the grandparents left and we had no time to give Ian any attention - not to mention that his room was torn up - let's just say that by that Sunday eve I was pretty sure that I had been flattened by a Freightliner (run on clean diesel, of course). And Jeff wasn't looking so hot either. It wasn't until a couple of nights later though that we actually put sheets on and Ian spent his first night in his new bed. (And about two weekends later - with the Disney trip in between - that we got the crib down and out of the room.)

The great news is that the transition went off without a hitch, which is I guess what happens when you keep a kid in their crib until almost 3.5 years old. He was so excited to sleep in a real bed and be out of the cage that he even willingly complied when we told him that he was not allowed to come out of his room at nap time or in the morning unless we came in and told him it was okay. Such a naive boy.

I know that a couple of you have asked to see pictures of the finished product. And honestly, I've hesitated to post them because in my mind, the room isn't finished yet and still looks pretty plain. The IKEA lamps I had hoped would work on the bedside tables did not - so that purchase is still TBD. There are picture frames on the dresser with no pictures in them yet (even though the PB signs that come with the frames are quite lovely). We bought knobs for the dresser that need to be installed (more from a functionality standpoint than a looks standpoint). And last but certainly not least - the walls are still strikingly bare. I have a couple of prints (from the Creative Thursday artist on Etsy) on order for framing along with some shelving ideas for above the bed, but it hasn't happened yet. I guess I needed a bit of a break from bedroom decor. So, below is what the room looks like now. I'll post updated pictures in the future when we eventually apply the finishing touches, so to speak.

And as an aside - eventually we'll be replacing the chair and potentially the bookcase since those items will be needed elsewhere before too long. Also, after going back and forth about ten million times on the paint color(s) for the room, I'm happy - no, relieved - to report that I was very pleased with the finished product, which ended being an accent wall of Benjamin Moore's Jalapeno Pepper and another BM more neutral green...of which the name is escaping me right now. Which just shows I'm definitely getting older because normally I would not forget such things. But I guess that's a post for another day.

Until I write again.

Happy anniversary to me!

A woman I know from high school had a status update on her Facebook page the other day saying that she had just been to the Linden High School graduation for the Class of 2009 the night before. Hmmm....I graduated in...let's see...1989 which means that it was exactly (or thereabouts) 20 years ago that I graduated from Linden High School. Holy guacamole!!! Well, A) What happened to my 20-year reunion invite? It must have been lost in the mail (which I'm actually okay with); and B) How did 20 years go by so quickly?? I mean, it was just like yesterday that I recall wandering the halls of Linden High as little Melinda Johnson among the sea of Italian farming families that make up good ole' Linden, California. That, and the Linden Cherry Festival every May where my best friend Melissa ran for Cherry Queen our senior year. That was a big deal. I remember helping her memorize her speech where she talked about her pig Iggy that she raised for 4H. As I recall, she didn't win but she should have. But I believe that she has recovered by now, so it's all good.

Anyway, as I pondered my high school days, I couldn't help but think back to some of my more notable teachers....Mr. Gregory from physics; Mr. Waters from biology; Mr. Miller, my history teacher who also doubled as the Linden High football coach (and looked like one too); and last, but not least, Ms. Niswonger - my typing teacher. I liked Ms. Niswonger because she kind of reminded me of my Grandma. But she ran a mean typing class. "Ready.........tyyyypppppppeeee!," she'd always say. Really, who knows if I'd even be able to write this blog post here today without her. I'm guessing they've ditched the typing class (with typewriters, anyway) at Linden High by now. Ironically, two of the teachers who were probably among the more instrumental in shaping my future (besides Ms. Niswonger), I can clearly see their faces but can't remember their names. First was my Spanish teacher (actually, I think I had two but I remember one in particular) who gave me my start in what would later become my college major and second was my yearbook teacher who helped spark my interest in journalism and writing.

Another class I recall that I actually did not take was home economics. I remember the classroom it was in and that it was a very popular class, particularly among the female students. I went in there once and there was a whole kitchen going on in there; and one of the most popular parts of the class was when all the students would have to carry around an egg for a week and pretend like it was their baby. Of course the goal was to not drop and break the egg. You know, so you learn how to not drop and break your kid later on in life. All I can say looking back on that now is...Wow! They may have ditched the typewriting class on typewriters - but I certainly hope they've ditched the home economics class. I could say more but perhaps I'll just leave it at that. Though, since I can't cook and well, I guess my child rearing abilities are still TBD, maybe a little crash course in home econ wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all.

But while we are on the topic of my 20-year high school graduation anniversary, in California many high school seniors celebrate their graduation by heading to Anaheim for a special "Grad Nite" (yes, that is how they spell it) at Disneyland where every night in June seniors invade the park for an all-night celebration. While I did venture down to Disney World in Orlando once fairly early on in my East Coast adventures, I hadn't been to Disneyland since "Grad Nite '89" until Jeff and I took Ian down just a few weeks ago for a long weekend at the park with my Dad, DeAnn, Summer, Addy and Emmy.

Disneyland is kind of like the U.S. Constitution. It hasn't changed all that much over the years, yet it still seems surprisingly current and relevant - so I have to give Disney some credit for that. But aside from that, taking your three year old to Disneyland is a bit different than going as a kid yourself or in my most recent case, going for "Grad Nite '89". First and foremost, I'm not sure if anyone who has been recently noticed, but that place is crowded. Not just a little crowded. A LOT CROWDED. I mean, if our economy is in the tank, you'd never know it by spending a day or two at Disneyland. Want to spend 90 seconds going up and down in a circle on flying elephants? (Because we did.) Wait 45 minutes. Want to spend a few minutes on a fake submarine ride (these days called "Finding Nemo" thanks to those branding wizards at Disney) where you can view fake fish and fake plants? Wait 1.5 hours. (Ian did...but we didn't.) Want to go on Space Mountain, the Haunted House or the Matterhorn? Forgot it...you only got to do those fun rides before you had young children in tow. Plus that was at least another two or three hours of waiting time and well, who has time?? Want to be sneezed on, coughed on, bumped into and stepped on by every man, woman and child in Southern California and beyond? Go to Disneyland! (And yes, I did come down with a cold shortly after we arrived back home.)

But yeah, yeah - you are probably thinking, "Well, um, isn't the point of going to Disneyland not really for you but for Ian, Addy and Emmy?" Geez, if you want to make it "all about the kids", I guess so. And the bottom line was that they had a great time. Besides just being in overdrive excitement mode over the whole experience, Ian was particularly in love with the Dumbo ride, It's a Small World, the Monorail, the Disney train and the breakfast we had with "Minnie and Friends" (except that Captain Hook...he wasn't so sure about him). And it's always nice to have a long weekend away from the grind and be able to spend time with family. Oh, and as a neat little bonus - perhaps in commemoration of another recent anniversary earlier in May - our approach flying into Orange County took us directly over Catalina Island and as we turned toward the coast just north of Avalon, it was just enough to clearly (well, as "clear" as LA air gets) see the Casino, the bay and a some of the town. We realized it was the first time we had even set sight on Avalon since we departed from our wedding. We pointed it out to Ian but he was more interested in his puzzle and fishy crackers, frankly. Oh well.

Until I write again.

Life without Maria

Did I mention that our housecleaner broke her arm? If not, I'm very surprised because I think about it, and her, at least once every five minutes these days. This was maybe six weeks ago now. She called one day to tell me that she slipped and fell in the bathtub. Ouch. Poor Maria. Even worse, that she was in a cast and would not be able to work for a while. However, in typical Maria fashion, she said that, despite what the doctor was telling her, she thought it wouldn't be too long before she'd be able to come back to work.

So, we left it at that. I hung up the phone, looked around the house and spent about two seconds pondering the fact that I may have to actually clean my house for the first time in, oh, seven or so years. And then it was too much to process so I immediately stopped thinking about it and instead went immediately into the denial stage - which I seem to do so well. No worries, she said she'll be back soon. The house can survive a month without a major cleaning. (Note that it had already been more than a week since she was last here when I received the call.)

Two weeks (or so...I've lost track) later the phone rings again. It's Maria. We had gotten together with our two sets of neighbors (who also use Maria) to send her a "get well soon" bouquet of flowers. Of course she didn't realize how literal that sentiment was for each one of us. No, really, please get well soon! So Maria was calling to thank us (profusely, because she is very sweet) for the flowers and to provide us with an update on her condition:

Maria: So I wanted to let you know that the doctor switched me to my permanent cast today.

Me: Oh, your permanent cast?

Maria: Yes, he said it's going to be at least another three weeks that I'll need to be in this cast and then he'll have to check me again for my progress.

Me: Oh, at least three weeks, huh? (??!!!!!!!!)

Maria: Yes, I'm so sorry for any inconvenience in not being able to clean your house for all this time.

Me: Oh, Maria, it's no problem at all. (What a liar.) You just rest and focus on getting well and give us a call after you talk with the doctor again. Oh, and can you just tell me what you use to clean the toilets?

So, again, I'd lost count but basically at this point we were approaching somewhere in the vicinity of a month w/o a cleaning with clearly no end in sight. As I looked around at the dust bunnies mingling around the floor like best friends at a cocktail party, I knew that denial was no longer an option. Someone needed to clean the house and it clearly was not going to be Maria. Ian offered and I considered it for a minute before deciding that might not be the most efficient route to go. And Jeff didn't really offer. Which is understandable, I guess, since he's got that whole work thing going on.

I spent the next four or so days getting siked up for my adventures in housecleaning. I mean, it's not like I've never cleaned before. I used to be the Queen of Clean(ing), as a matter of fact, before we bought our house in Virginia. But once multiple levels entered into the picture, I decided I was okay with enlisting the help of outside resources. And then it's just hard to go back after that decision is made. To prepare, I spent the weekend doing some deep breathing and stretching exercises, along with reacquainting myself with the myriad cleaning supplies at my disposal. Come Monday morning - with Ian dropped off at school - I was ready. It was a beautiful day outside and I had a lot of energy that morning. In short, it was Me vs. The House and I was determined to come out the winner!

Just like Maria does, I started upstairs in our bathroom. First of all, I never realized how big our vanity was before. Lots to clean there for sure. After that and the toilet, I tackled the bathtub, which took much more bending and general contorting of the body than I anticipated. By that point I was already saying, "Oh, that's good enough!" Next was the shower. I thought, "You know, the shower still looks pretty clean...I've been at this an hour and there's still a lot to do...I'll just skip the shower for now." Well, about 2.5 hours, one more bathroom, four bedrooms, one laundry room later and about two breaks later - I was finally ready to start moving downstairs. Admittedly, I was getting a little tired and it took a little longer than I had hoped. Still, I was not discouraged. One more break and I was ready to tackle the main level.

About 1.5 hours later - somewhere in between cleaning the kitchen, vacuuming the wood floors and getting started on the mopping - is when it first crossed my mind that whomever thought it was a perfectly good idea to buy a 3,000+ square foot home clearly never planned on cleaning it. By that point, I'm pretty sure my energy level was decreasing by the millisecond and breaks were becoming more frequent. Somewhere around that same time Jeff arrived home and sadly, attempted to go up the very same stairs I had just spent 20 minutes vacuuming WITHOUT TAKING OFF HIS SHOES FIRST. I mean, I don't want to exaggerate and say that I flipped out or anything but let's just say I don't think he'll be making that mistake again.

By the time I finished with just minutes to spare before it was time to go pick up Ian, I was not well. For sure it had been Me vs. The House except that I do believe The House came out the winner. By 6pm that evening, every bone and muscle in my body ached. I can only liken it to how one feels when they are coming down with a bad case of the flu. It was, in a word, embarrassing. The next day, I was useless. I did nothing except spend most of the day praying that Maria would return before it was time to clean again. That was about 2.5 weeks ago now. I've recovered but the house is getting dirty again. Especially that shower. And still no call from Maria. As a side note, I can't go without giving credit where credit is due. I did have a couple of helpers that day. Here are some photos of them in action.

Gathering bathroom rugs for the wash:

Overseeing the dusting in (or outside, as the case may be) our bedroom:

Bathtub quality assurance advisor: And finally, taking a break from mopping:

Until I write again.

Fun in a tube

Last Sunday we decided to take advantage of the beautiful weekend weather and head up to Mount Hood. We found out that one of the ski resorts has a tubing hill for kids (and adults...) so we thought it would be a good opportunity to introduce Ian to the world of snow sports.

Because we live on the west side of town, the drive up to the mountains is about an hour and 20 minutes for us. (We have the advantage when it comes to going to the coast.) Skibowl is right at the town of Government Camp, which is a cute little village area just below Timberline Lodge. We arrived just before 11 a.m. and found that the place was practically empty. I guess that everyone decided they'd rather stay in town for the nice weather than spend it on the slopes. And yesterday I heard that there are some avalanche issues right now with the sudden warm weather, so perhaps that was a deterrent (?).

We parked the car, got our tickets and headed for the "Tube Park" which consists of about five groomed paths down a not-too-scary-looking hill. However, once we watched a few people come down, it was clear that this wasn't a total snoozer. They were getting some good speed on that thing! So after our careful tube selection, we headed for the rope tow up the hill. For Ian, this was half the fun. At the top, we were a little nervous about pushing him down on his own at first so we decided that it would be better if one of us went down with him by holding on to his tube. Of course I nominated Jeff for this job. And before I knew it - off they went swooshing down the hill. We really weren't sure what to expect out of Ian...whether he'd think it was the greatest thing ever or if he would immediately be on the phone to child protective services once at the bottom of the hill. Luckily, it was the former. He laughed and giggled the entire way down and before the tube had even come to a complete stop, he was asking Jeff, "Can we do it again??" So, we repeated this process (complete with the request to "do it again") about 10 times while switching off who went down with him. After a while we asked him if he still wanted to go down with us or go by himself. "By myself!" he said. So that's what he did for the rest of our time there.

We had only purchased a two-hour pass, which was plenty of time for tubing fun...not to mention sore bottoms and snow exposure in mild temperatures. (We made sure to put on plenty of sunscreen that morning.) So, we were headed out toward home by 1 p.m. - leaving us enough time to still squeeze in a nap. It was a brief, but fun little activity. Not surprisingly, Ian seems to really like being in the snow and seemed especially intrigued by the skiers. And okay, by the snowboarders as well. He kept saying, "Look at that! Look at them, Mommy/Daddy! I'll do that when I'm bigger?" We are hoping that next year, when he's four, he'll be able to take his first ski lesson. We figure we'll help him to learn how to ski and then he'll probably teach himself how to snowboard. Because I can promise that you'll never see me on a snowboard in my lifetime.

Until I write again.

Signs of spring

After a couple of rain-soaked weeks, we are seeing some glimpses of spring this weekend. This morning we woke up to clear blue skies and afternoon temps in the 60s, and tomorrow and Monday it is supposed to reach 70 degrees. Woo hoo!

However, being that this is now our third year going through the seasons here, we will not be fooled. In fact, we now know all too well that this period from April through June marks the toughest time of the year here. That's because while everyone else is, for the most part, enjoying the glory of spring/beginning of summer and warmer weather, we will undoubtedly continue to experience our fair share of rain and cool temperatures. In fact, we'll be back to the 50s by Tuesday. Sigh.

In the meantime, all the flowers are in full bloom - including the tulips, which I just love and always like to have around the house this time of year. Here are some pretty ones on our dining table:

Until I write again.

We may be reaching Code Red

So, let's see...I last talked about Ian's bedroom situation maybe a couple of months ago now? And I'm sure you are all thinking that has been completely resolved by this point. Well, guess what? It hasn't. (I've said before that I'm indecisive and I meant it.)

The good news, however, is that I'm close. I mean, I know I said I was close a while back - but this time I'm really close. After approximately 298 scouting trips to IKEA, 156 trips to the paint store(s), three paint samples and one trip to World Market - I have definitely decided on the safari theme. In fact, I've more than decided on it. I've committed to it. Last week the piece de resistance - which I got on sale, by the way - arrived in the mail and it's now sitting spread out across the guest bed up against a couple of large pieces of paint samples. And, I'm pretty sure I'm not even going to return it.

So, if that is the good news...then what is the bad? The bad is that I think we may be running short on time. This is because I do believe that after three plus years, the novelty of the crib seems to be wearing off, while the intrigue of sleeping in an actual bed seeming to be heating up. At first it was very subtle. Little questions and statements here and there about where "Ian sleeps" versus "Mommy and Daddy's bed." Every now and then he'd climb up on our bed and liked sitting on it a bit. Okay, fine. Then one day he laid down. Then, he pulled the covers up. "This is how Mommy and Daddy sleep?" he asked. "Well yes, but it's not much fun," I said. "Oh." And that was the end of that. (Sometimes I still amaze myself with my quick and witty comebacks.)

But really, it wasn't the end of that. And recently - as in, this week - things have taken a turn for the worse. Yesterday, late afternoon, he decided that he was still tired and needed another nap. Really?? Jackpot!!! That's what I was thinking. But Ian had other things in mind. "I'm going to go to sleep in there," he said, pointing to the bed in the guest room. So I thought that was cute and I played along. He hopped up on the bed, pulled down the pillows and pulled up the covers. And there he was: Snug as a bug in a rug! Then I made what may have been my biggest mistake in at least the past two days. I shared "the plan" with him:

Me: You know, someday very soon you are going to have your very own bed just like this one and the one that Mommy and Daddy sleep in.

Ian: I will?

Me: Yes. You won't have your crib anymore and you'll sleep in your own big boy bed.

Ian: Oh!! (He says with a big smile.) And I won't sleep in my crib anymore? (Turning what I just told him into a question as if the outcome might have changed in the past two seconds.)

Me: Nope, just your new bed.

Ian: Oh!!! (More big smiles.) I'm going to practice in the cat bed now, okay? (For some reason he calls the guest bed the "cat bed" even though I kick Catalina off every time I even see her try to get comfy on there. Because that's the kind of mean cat parent I am. Does anyone want a sweet cat, by the way?)

Then, he did something that's been happening more and more lately: I was asked to leave. On the way out he said, "Can you shut it?" "Shut what?" I asked. "The door. Please shut the door." I obliged, checking in every now and then to find this:

When Jeff arrived home a bit later, Ian was still doing his practice session, so we ended up all piling in the bed together which Ian thought was more fun than eating a quesadilla. Well, okay, we won't go that far. But he was pretty tickled. Then this afternoon, as soon as we got home from school, guess where he went? Straight for the cat bed for more "napping." When I told him that he couldn't stay there long because it would be time for him to go into his room and his own bed for a real nap, I heard the inevitable question: "Can I take my nap here?" Uh oh. We were clearly reaching dangerous territory with this whole bed thing. When I told him no, that he needed to nap in his own room for now, I feared some level of flip out might follow but it didn't. Whew. (You can really never be too grateful when flip outs are averted.) Instead, he got down and went into his room and came back with a selection of his favorite items from the transportation sector. He asked, "Can I play with these on the cat bed until my naptime?" "Sure."

Tonight I told Jeff that it's time to get a transition plan in place. Sort of like the Obama team transition plan, but a little less important.

Until I write again.

The Somewhat (infrequent) Daily Quote

Catalina is a cat. And she says meeoooow because she wants to eat! (Yep, that about sums things up.) And babies say waaaaaaaaaaa. Like my baby cousin Ellie. She says waaaaaaaaaa!

-Ian Burpo, Age 3, noted while getting ready to eat breakfast this morning.

Bonus quote (just heard):

I'd like some more cereal. With milk, please. And that will be all.

Until I write again.

Visiting the orangutans

It was a gorgeous, albeit chilly, day here in Portland today. So, we went to the zoo with our friends Tabitha and baby Marshall. Here are Ian and Marshall getting up close and personal with the orangutans:

Until I write again.

Our brush with fame. Sort of.

As long as I can remember I have been loyal to NBC television, especially when it comes to news. I'm not sure exactly why or how it started, but that is how it is. I teared up when Tom Brokaw and Bob Hager retired, though have since warmed up to Brian Williams and Tom Costello. And of course we won't even talk about Tim Russert. In DC, I only watched WRC-TV for local news. And when we moved to Portland, it didn't even occur to me to check out any other station before turning straight to local NBC affiliate KGW. For what it's worth, the news quality of NBC does seem to surpass other broadcasts - though please recognize that I use that term quality loosely when referring to local news sometimes, especially in the Portland market. But KGW was also the first station in Portland to start broadcasting in HD last year, which is a nice little bonus.
So, of course it piqued our interest early last year when KGW started running fancy-smancy, yet somewhat secretive, ads announcing that their new "Studio on the Square" was "coming soon". It was clear that they were building a new studio with a window on Pioneer Courthouse Square - the centerpiece of downtown Portland - ala the Today Show. Several months went by and eventually the ads disappeared with no word spoken about the "Studio on the Square". It seemed that maybe KGW's new venture somehow hadn't quite worked out as planned. Until a couple of months ago. As quickly as they disappeared, the ads started reappearing on TV and finally, one day, an actual announcement that the studio was near completion and that they would begin broadcasting the morning, noon and 7pm broadcasts from the new location. Last week there was coverage of a special launch party and another announcement that they would host an open house for the public to come and see the new studio on Saturday morning. Sweet. We are always looking for weekend adventures, large and small. Plus, I guess I happen to have some interest in the inner workings of television given that whole PR career path and all. (And I did have the chance, through work, to tour the local ABC affiliate in Washington some years back. Kathleen Matthews, the evening anchor at the time - and wife of the infamous Chris Matthews - gave us the tour, which was kind of cool.)

Now, as I often do, this is where I have to back up for a minute. Earlier this past week, I took Ian on his first MAX train ride (MAX is Portland's light rail system). And I guess I should admit here...my first as well. We hopped on at a station near our house and rode downtown to Pioneer Courthouse Square, walked around a bit, ate some lunch and then headed back. It was nice. In many ways it was like an instant flashback to my daily trips on Metro in DC and reminded me how nice it is to have that as a travel option, but in other ways it seemed like a much different experience. However - my observations aside - Ian LOVED it. And you can only imagine that we've been hearing about the ride on the "electric train" nonstop since then. Along with the seemingly constant sound of "ding, ding, ding, ding, ding" ringing throughout the house as he simulates the sound of a railroad crossing. So, I suggested to Jeff that we hop on the train again and ride back downtown on Saturday morning to take him on a tour of the new KGW studio. And that's what we did.

Ian's second train ride was no less exciting to him than the first. We got off the train at Pioneer Courthouse Square and were a bit surprised to find that there was a line to get in the studio. They were shuffling people inside in groups and it took about 15 minutes in between each group. It was cold out and threatening rain, so it didn't take me long to launch into complaint mode noting they should have planned for more people and done more of a constantly moving line through the studio. Keep 'em moving. Keep 'em moving. That was my recommendation for maximum efficiency, though clearly no one asked me.

However, once inside - I realized that no, they were doing this the Portland way. Meaning, they weren't doing this just to see how many folks they could shuffle through in a few hours. They actually cared about locals - their viewers - having the opportunity for an "in depth" look at their proud new home. First there was a brief orientation in the hall with the news producer and managing news director who talked a bit about the history of the studio, took questions and even asked for some viewer input on one of their Friday morning segments. Then, we were moved inside the studio where we were able to walk around and see all the cameras, computers and of course the new anchor desk in front of the window on the square. In the middle of everything, seated at a round table, were almost all of the anchors and reporters we see on TV everyday, talking with all the guests, thanking them for coming and signing autographs. There was no pretentiousness going on - only smiles, friendly faces and seemingly genuine excitement and gratitude that we had taken the time to come down. Ian proudly introduced himself to Business Reporter Joe Smith and I got my picture taken with Weather Guy Dave Salesky (who is extremely tall, by the way). Jeff took pictures. All in all, it seemed kind of silly yet kind of fun. Before we knew it, we were back outside and heading back home on the train. With one very excited three-year-old. Mission accomplished.

Until I write again.

All aboard!

As I believe I've eluded to previously, yesterday - President's Day - was about oh, the 50th time between December and February by my count that Ian stayed home on a day when we were paying for him to be in preschool. (With December being the huge winner, of course, thanks to all that wintry weather.) I mean, hey, I enjoy throwing money out the window was much as the next person - but I must admit that sometimes it gets a little frustrating. I think if he were in school full time I wouldn't notice it as much - but take away that precious Monday, Wednesday or half-day Friday and I'm in agony! Okay, well maybe not agony - but it is noticeable. Lately I've been trying to put a little spin on it and look at it as a valuable donation to the institution that is helping to educate my son in these critical early childhood years. Sometimes it works.

Okay - so venting aside, it became clear fairly early on in the morning that we were going to be in need of some sort of activity outside the home. I don't know, it might have had something to do with the fact that I must have heard, "I want to go in the car. I want to go in the car!" about 10 times by 9am. Alrighty, fine - we'll go in the car. But where? This is always the big debate. I can't tell you how many mornings I spend running through activity options in my head - most of which get crossed off the list for one reason or another...too cold outside...too crowded....we just went there...you always get sick after we go there. This is one of the reasons why the Tuesday Sports Class was so great. I didn't have to think about it...it was just on the schedule. And of course it's particularly challenging in the winter. So, after going back and forth over several options in my head yesterday, I looked at the relatively decent weather out the window and settled on the zoo. Even though I was positive that similar conversations were going on at that very moment all over Portland - and that we would all be converging on the same parking lot within the next hour. Ugh. However, before I could use it as an excuse to change my mind, I asked Ian about it - in the form of a choice, of course: "Ian, would you like to go to the zoo this morning or play at home? As if I didn't already know the answer. But hey, I gave him a choice which in little kid speak means control, right? So, off we went.

The Oregon Zoo parking lot delivered on its promise and more. The place was more frantic than me trying to get to free cone day at Ben & Jerry's. Just when I was about ready to give up and had announced to Ian that it looked like he was going to have to settle for a park visit instead, there it was: a spot! After some quick screeching and a few donut maneuvers in the parking lot - we had procured a location to leave the car so that we could peruse the wildlife. So really, it had been a successful day already and we hadn't even approached the gate yet.

One of the great things about our zoo here is that it comes complete with a miniature railroad. And in case I haven't mentioned it before or you haven't witnessed it, our kid is a big fan of trains. Probably somewhat similar to every other three-year-old boy in America. And at the zoo, Mom is a big fan of the train as well. I mean, all I do is get us on board and then just sit there and enjoy the scenery - and he's as entertained and excited as can be. What is there not to like? We got to the ticket stand just as the Zooliner (cute, yes?) was about to leave and amazingly, there was still room on board. So on board we got and off we went. In the summer, the train usually makes close to a half hour loop through the zoo and through Washington Park which is yet another fabulous Portland offering that adjoins the zoo grounds. However, as we learned yesterday, in the winter (when the train only runs on weekends...and apparently holidays) they significantly shorten the trip to around 10 minutes just around the zoo. Still enough time to see the elephants (we have a baby here now who is so cute!), wolves, the bald eagle and other various wildlife.

After our train ride, we went to visit the African area of the zoo where they have the cutest darn giraffe you've ever seen (I think these may be a new favorite animal for me these days), some pretty zebras, the monkeys, two hippos (who only wanted to show us their back side) and let's see...that's all I can think of right now because my brain is not working well. I will say though that seeing all these cool African creatures may have secured the safari theme for Ian's new bedroom (which I'm still giving thought to, of course). But after that it was well past lunchtime so we scurried back to our parking spot which I gave up after - taking a chapter from the Rod Blagojevich school of business - I sold it to someone who wanted it for equal the amount we had paid in Ian's school tuition for that day.

Today - my normal day with Ian - we went to storytime at the central Beaverton library. They do a nice little program for preschoolers with a few books and songs, which he seems to enjoy. Of course it also gave us the opportunity to pick up some additional tractor/truck/train/general construction reading materials. I was more enthusiastic than usual about loading up on these themes in hopes that they will serve as a hearty in-flight distraction for our Thursday travel to Texas. I don't know, but something gives me the feeling that I'm going to be up to my eyeballs in reading about excavators by the time we reach Houston. This trip will of course mark the end of Ian's 1.25(ish) year ban on flying due to consistent demonstration of demon-like behavior on airliners (except in his early months...he was great then!). There's been a lot of "prep work" happening...reading Amazing Airplanes, having discussions about what to expect, how we behave on airplanes, sitting in our seats, keeping our seat belts on (or harness, in his case), being patient, talking quietly....we'll see if it pays off. If you don't hear from me again, that might mean it didn't go so well. Oh, and did I mention that Ian will be missing school this Friday and again next Monday?

Until I write again.

My not-so-funny Valentine's story

I feel that I've learned a fair number of things about parenting since I became one a few years ago. I mean, if I were to say, major in parenting - I think I'd definitely be beyond the basic courses at this point and into the advanced course work. (At least in the early childhood major.) And like all good courses of study, it's not all easy going. Every now and then an exercise comes up that really stumps you. Which is exactly what happened to me this week:

So, as everyone knows - tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Day of Cupid, true love, bows and arrows, blah, blah, blah. When we got Ian's class newsletter at the beginning of this month there was a big reminder on the front (and only) page: We'll be having our class Valentine's party on Friday, February 13 this year! See attached list for names of everyone in the class! My very first thought was, Huh? And then my very second thought was, Oh, right, Valentines! I think I vaguely recall some required exchange of little cards with silly sayings on them. Of course, I also recall things being a little less politically correct back in my day and being crushed to death when Fred didn't give me a Valentine, or that girl who I wanted to be best friends with so badly...of course not bad enough that I remember her name right now. And my third thought was, Oh goody - another item to add to the to-do list!

Anyway, in my attempt to be an involved parent I signed up the next day to bring apples in for the big bash. And, I figured I'd just stop in at Freddie's (notice how they seem to get a lot of publicity on this blog?) and pick up a box of those cute little Snoopy Valentines I remember from 30ish years ago, fill them out and call it a day. Fast forward to Monday of this week. I was picking up Ian when one of his teachers said, "Oh, so just to let you know - we decided to change the party from this Friday to this Thursday because the librarian is coming into the class on Friday." Which, for me, now meant that I needed to have the Valentines ready by end of day on Wednesday since Ian doesn't goes to school on Thursdays. This also meant that he wouldn't able to attend the Valentine's party, which was a bit of a bummer. However, for some reason, the Wednesday Valentine deadline didn't actually occur to me until Tuesday evening. Still, I thought, Oh, no big deal. I'll run out and get them after I drop Ian off tomorrow morning, fill them out and give them to the teacher when I pick him up Wednesday afternoon to distribute on Ian's behalf Thursday morning.

Enter Wednesday morning. By this point, I already knew that our Freddie's did not in fact have any Valentines (at least that I saw) - so I headed straight for Target after dropping off Ian. Now, let me say here that I must admit that one of the huge benefits of being unemployed...or excuse me, not working outside of the home...is being able to go to stores like Target on weekdays. Really, it spoils you from ever wanting to have to out shopping on a weekend again (though don't get me wrong - I do it anyway). So, I walk in and immediately soak up the calmness that is Target on a Wednesday morning. Ahhhh! Of course I don't go straight to where I need to go because, duh, I'm in Target. So I meander a bit, hitting the toy section to scope out some potential new mini gadgets to surprise Ian with on our plane trip to Texas next week. Of course, not that this "occupy them with new toys" strategy I keep reading about has ever worked for us before, but it doesn't mean we stop trying. Anyway, it's there in the toy section that I'm confronted with Super Annoying Mom #1. (Which, by the way, is a trade off of shopping on weekdays.) You know, the one roaming the aisles with the cell phone glued to her ear, not paying attention to her cart or where she is, but instead yapping nonstop about how little Johnny didn't sleep a wink last night. Meanwhile, she has this cute little girl trailing along behind her who she's paying zero attention to, except to turn every once in a while and yell, "Come on, Madison!" And she's just like Visa: Everywhere I want to be.

Next, I venture over the Valentine's section. Which is where I discover that the store wasn't as quiet as I thought it was. Because every person from at least half the cars in the parking lot was pretty much within this two aisle radius. Which I guess shouldn't have been all that surprising given the proximity to the official Hallmark holiday of the year. But I couldn't take it so I retreated for the main greeting card area which - big surprise - is where the other half of the people were. Ugh. Still, I had no choice so I suffered through before moving back to the Vday section where I encountered Super Annoying Moms #2, 3, 4 and 5. Maybe more. I lost count. There was all sorts of stuff going on in these aisles...little bins of picture frames, pencils, you name it - they had it. But what they didn't appear to have was a box of Valentines. Finally, I located them in a relatively small area. They looked a little different than I remembered. And there was no Snoopy or anything relatively cute or neutral. The choices were Hannah Montana, SpongeBob, Batman, Cinderella and a couple of other options I can't recall now. But let's just say they weren't good. And they definitely weren't like I remembered. I was confused. I kept thinking...there must be something I'm missing here! But not really. I mean, there was one box of "Make your own cards!" that involved a bunch of foam, some pens, some beads...I didn't really understand it so I put it back. Now I was getting a bit frustrated. This was supposed to be a quick outing and I had other things I wanted to get done that day while Ian was in school. You know, things that might actually lead to a paycheck at some point. But never fear! I had another idea! I'd just go down the way to my new favorite store Michael's and they would have exactly what I needed. Michael's never disappoints (at least they didn't when I re-discovered them over Christmas)!

So, I walked in the front door of Michael's fully expecting to be overcome with heart paraphernalia. Instead, I was overcome by plastic flowers (spring is coming, after all). I wandered around for a bit before coming across one measly display area of red stuff. It was right next to the measly display of green stuff for St. Patty's day. And oh yeah, they definitely had some Valentines...but it was the exact same stuff they had at Target. Apparently Miley Cyrus is making a killing off Valentine royalties this year. Plus a couple more "do it yourself" kits laying around that made no sense to me. It was at this point that I started aimlessly wandering around Michael's getting panicked. I had approximately five hours to deliver some Valentines to Ian's class and I was totally stumped! I knew I only had one choice: I needed to find my inner Martha. But I didn't even know what a Valentine was supposed to look like! How big are they? What do I write? Do I need envelopes? Luckily this saleswoman must have noticed me looking frazzled because she offered to help me and I was more than happy to oblige. And even better, she had young children. So, after a crash course in Kid Valentines 101 and a few ideas, I set about collecting my own materials. That's right - I was just going to make my own, darn it!

Approximately 2.5ish hours after I had dropped off Ian, I finally arrived back home armed with Valentine-making materials. By the time Jeff got home that afternoon, I was knee-deep in colored card stock, scalloped scissors, foam heart stickers, and gold and silver pens. Along with the class name list, of course. And now all I kept thinking was, Who are you and what did you do with Melinda? But seriously, talk about how I didn't intend on spending my day! And of course in the middle of all this I realized that it was only right that Ian have the opportunity to be involved in this little art activity. I mean, why should I have all the fun? So, I got a good start on everything else and left the stickers for him to place on the front when he got home that night. When I picked him up, I told his teacher that we'd have to drop off Ian's Valentines in the morning at which point she said, "Well, why don't you just bring him and leave him for a couple of hours?" Really?? Well, since you offered... (Oh, and by the way, it's not like we haven't already paid for about a million days over the past couple of months where he didn't actually go to school - including another day this upcoming Monday for the President's Day holiday. So I didn't mind taking her up on her offer for him to be there for a couple of hours on one of his "off days". Plus, I knew he'd really enjoy being at the party.)

On Wednesday night, Ian - with some help from Mom and Dad - had a great time putting the finishing touches on the Valentines for his school friends. We also cut up and put a small sheet of stickers as a little gift inside each Valentine. In the end, we had a lot of leftover stickers, which made Ian very happy. He was in heaven spending the rest of the evening - and Thursday - putting heart stickers all over new "cards" he made. On Thursday morning, he went to his Valentine party and came home with a whole bag of Valentines, most of them Hannah Montana, Cinderella, Batman... (um, can you say overachiever?) He also had some other special treats and a big smile on his face. So I think it's safe to say that his first class Valentine experience was a success. And of course I just can't wait until next year! Or even the next holiday, really.

Of course it also hit me at some point in this whole process that we needed to get Ian a little something for Valentine's Day. So, in honor of the fact that he does seem to be taking to chocolate these days, I got him some chocolate hearts from See's, a card and a little teddy bear (from Freddie's of course), which will actually be the first teddy bear he owns. As for Jeff and I, we are bucking our trend of staying in and making a nice meal at home and actually going out to dinner this year to a place we haven't been before called Lucy's Table. We figured what the heck, especially since it's on a Saturday this year and these days we'll pretty much look for any excuse to get out for a nice meal. And, if things go well, we may even get really wild and go out dancing afterwards!

So, Happy Hallmark Holiday...er, I mean, Valentine's Day to all!

Until I write again.