home

May 16th.  That was a long time ago.

September 22nd.  This is now.

(and in between...there was so much)  

You will have to believe me when I say we had many grand adventures.  I didn't keep you posted.  You'll have to trust me when I say we had a blast.  I didn't even think to stop and report it here.  You know it's true when I say I almost went crazy at the end....

but, now we are home.  here.  this place.  finally home.

It's better than I dreamed.  Yes, better.  And I did a lot of dreaming. 

Our house is cozy, it's open, it's bright, it feels good and smells right.  It's perfect for our family of four and perfect too when visitors come.  It's not too crowded or too spacious, too small, or too big.  It's just right.

But there is something even better than the new sweet house where we now live.  Better is the community surrounding us.  Better is creating a shared space.  Better is watching the dream become reality.   Better is living it.

deep breath.  enjoying today.  this moment.  this feeling.  being home. 

"your doing WHAT?"

That's the response I often get when I tell people we are moving all our stuff into storage and living out of our van for 8 weeks.  Yes, the kids are coming with us.  Yup, we all fit just fine.  Ummm...actually, I don't need to shower everyday.  And nope, I don't get tired of sleeping on a bunk.  Uh huh, the kids love it.  Yup, we cook - we have a propane stove, a small fridge, and a sink...we also bring along our mini grill.  Yes, there are two double beds - one up and one down.  No...no A/C at all and no heat unless we are moving.  It's a 1987...but the engine is a 2009...that's a good thing.

Well, it might not seem like all that fits in there but it does.  And it fits just fine.  I do sometimes feel like one of those clown cars - you know, the ones where a ridiculous amount of clowns somehow emerge from a teeny tiny car.  Once we start taking things out, I am completely amazed that all those items actually fit all nice and snug back into the van.

We still have quite a few details to work out in these next few weeks - like where we are actually going to put our stuff while we are away, where we are going to go on this trip (guess that can be a spur of the moment type thing but we should still have some semblance of a plan), and how on earth we are going to get all the work (packing, planning, and "real" work) done in the next 3 weeks.  Oh - and throw a few visitors in there for good measure.  Phew...just thinking about it makes me tired.

must. start. packing. boxes.

transitions

It has begun.  Another transition.  Once again, we are putting our things into boxes.  Sorting, selling, donating, packing.  Purging and cleaning.  Organizing and labeling.  It feels good to know this is the last time I will do this for a long, long time.  My packing goal: everything I put into a box will have a place in our new home...each object will either be useful or will make our home beautiful or perhaps will do both.  But, for the next couple of months, all of these useful and beautiful objects will be stored while we head out on an adventure.

The van will be packed with only our essentials.  Nothing more.  Climbing shoes, camp chairs, festival tickets, rain jackets, bathing suits, sunscreen, food, and the four of us.  Summer vacation will take us to California for a family reunion.  Following that, we have no real plan.  We have at least 8 weeks to wander.  No school, no work, no appointments.  No place we need to be and nothing we have to do.  I can't wait! 

Ahhhh...summer.  It's almost here.

home

The house.  I suppose you could say we are in the finishing phase of construction.  The concrete floors have been finished, the cabinets have been delivered, the tile is in boxes stacked in one of the upstairs bedrooms.  There is a large pile of finished trim waiting patiently.  It actually feels like a home inside.  I can't say that it feels like my home.

I have often wondered, when does a newly built house truly feel like home?  When you move into an older home (which is all I have ever lived in), it comes with a life of it's own.  There is an energy there that is created from time past.  People have walked down the hall on the wood floors, they have done their dishes at the kitchen sink, they have open the front door every day.  They have lived, loved, fought, laughed, cried...had good days, bad days, and all the days in between.  They have come home to that house every day and have really lived...and so, the house has a life too.  It has something subtle to give to the next person who lives there...it gets passed on.  But, in a house where everything is new, where does the life come from?  I guess it comes from us...we will be the start.

We did put some old things into our new space - like a reclaimed beam and reclaimed wood floors  Our cabinetry is made from wood sourced from an old fir nurse log that lived for many years, fell in the forest, and grew new life.  I hope these things give the house a sense of something past.  For now, we will be waiting patiently and wondering what it will be like when we live there...and we won't be waiting that much longer.

DST

It's been a long dark winter.  I always say that skiing helps get me through these dark rainy days.  I just close my eyes think about how much snow they are getting at Mt. Baker as it dumps rain on us here in Bellingham.  But on days like today - sideways wind, dark skies, and sick children - dreaming of powder turns doesn't even get me there.

Daylight Savings Time.  That does get me there.  Knowing that next week it will be light out until 6:30 and that spring is just shy of 2 weeks away.  Yes.  These are the things that I like.

I have always really loved the changing of the seasons.  I love the smell of autumn and look forward to that first snowfall of the year.  But, spring...the anticipation of summer...that's my favorite.  (Important sidenote: In the pacific northwest, summer is elusive and often doesn't start until July so that particular change of season is a bit more frustrating than exciting).  Spring...it's similar to Thursday.  I love Thursday because it is not Friday (so unproductive!) but most of the week is over and you have the weekend to look forward to.  You can breathe and relax and know that the days of rest are heading your way.  Since I have been staying at home instead of heading to the office, I feel a bit differently.  I no longer get excited about my relaxing Thursday - instead, I find those relaxing moments at odd times during my days.  Like when Charlie is sleeping and Rowan is busy with a project.  Or when we are all at the beach exploring together - listening to the slap of the waves on the rocky shore.  Or perhaps when I am alone in the kitchen washing dishes yet I can hear Eric, Rowan and Charlie laughing in the living room.  Yup - those are the moments I live for...the Thursdays of life.  And now I am happily looking forward to moving those clocks ahead - even if it means one less hour in my night.

being second

I've been thinking a lot about being second - as in, being the second child.  I've always thought that being the first born had all the advantages: you get to do everything first, you have those first few years alone without a sibling to soak up all the parental energy, you get to be the boss (to this day, I still boss my sister around), and you don't have to wear hand-me-downs.  The discovery of parenthood and all that it brings with it is mind blowing.  Awe, amazement, excitement, wonder, expectation, marvel, beauty, discovery...fear, worry, and even some guilt.  Being first, you are the center of all of that.

When Charlie was first born, I was surprised that I felt the same awe in his newness as I did when Rowan was born.  It wasn't less....no, not less at all.  In fact, it was maybe even more.  You have the experience, you know the type of parent you want to be, and you are well aware that babies are strong and resilient.  You get relish in their littleness and really soak it in.  This was especially true for me since I knew Charlie was my last baby.  He gets watched, cuddled and carried just as much as his sister did.  I don't sweat the small stuff (it's somehow okay for him to walk around with his pacifier on those days he is sick or just out of sorts and I don't freak out if when I find him eating a candy cane at 18 months old) and I have so much more patience.  I am in constant amazement of him - and am discovering just as much about parenting (and myself) as I did the first time around.  I didn't know there was so much to learn!  And then, he starts out having a sister.  An attentive, loving, caring, nurturing, sweet sister.  Yes, there is something very special about being the second born. 

Over these last few months, I have watched as the relationship between Rowan and Charlie has become magical.  When I say magical, I really mean magical.  They have something special that exists between them and I hope it lasts forever.  They way they play, the way Rowan holds Charlie when he is sad, how excited Charlie is to see Rowan when we pick her up from school, the special & unique way they communicate with each other, the way he looks up to her and the way she protects him...it's different than anything I could give to either of them.  I know the value of a sibling - I have a sister and she part of me, part of who I am and who I have become.  She is even part of me as a parent.  Our relationship is priceless and means more to me than I can explain.  Watching your kids develop that relationship is incredible...it brings me comfort, amazes me, and warms my heart.

The funny thing is that I never felt a need to have a second kid to provide a sibling for Rowan.  I wanted a second child for me, for us...that's always what I imagined when I thought about having a family.  Now that I have two kids and have watched them grow together, I can't imagine not giving Rowan the gift of a brother.  No, I can't imagine that at all.  And that second kid, in many ways, is a first too.  He's a gift to this family and with him, we are complete.

the day they met

dark becomes light

The winter solistice was expecially remarkable this year.  On the shortest, darkest night of the year, the moon was darkened just a little more.  A total lunar eclipse.  I was lucky enough to see it.  Awakened from a deep sleep, I stumbled out in the snowy cold to see an orange moon at the perfect time.  WOW! 

Happy Solstice...let the light shine.

snow troubles

Oh wow.  I'm in trouble.  BIG trouble.  Yesterday was our first family ski day of the year (well, besides the tour around the neighborhood in the much loved and very rare city snowfall).  We packed up the car, drove to Mount Baker (which had just received a foot of new snow on top of a 3 foot base), put on our warm clothes and headed out on the slopes.

I can't say I felt like I belonged there.  My boots felt like lead bricks on my feet and the slide down the snow felt foreign.  I realized after just two short runs that I have some serious work to do this season.  First, I need to lower my expectations.  I used be a good skier...yes, it's true.  I'm not sure what standards this "good skier" I am referring to is compared to...but, I felt confident and had fun so, in my book, that's a good skier.  Yesterday, I felt lucky to make it down in one piece.  I had forgotten (briefly) that I hadn't skied in two seasons - last year I was injured and the year before that I was 7 months pregnant.  So when I started down the hill that first run, I was expecting more than my body was able to give me.  So, I'm starting over...next time I head up to the mountain I'm going to take it easy.  Spend time getting used to the snow again and I'll be patient with myself. 

The second thing I realized is that it is not a good idea to ski with your glasses underneath your goggles in a snowstorm.  It doesn't work.  At all.  Glasses off and goggles on, goggles off and glasses on, glasses and goggles on.  Nope.  Next time, I'll be wearing my contacts.

The other reason I'm in trouble?  It's not going to be long before I can't keep up with Rowan.  She's incredible out there!  Her first runs of the season were impressive - back and forth down the hill, total confidence, ready to go (snowstorm and all!).  I loved watching her...this is going to be an exciting year on the ski hill for her.  She got 10 runs in yesterday - more than any of the rest of us!

Charlie spent the day saying "side...skeee...go...roro" - he was enjoying the snow too. 

All in all, it was a good day.  I can't say that I felt that way yesterday but, after having some time to reflect, I decided that the day was a success.  We had fun, I learned a few things, and we spent a winter day outdoors.

giving thanks together

What better place is there than at home, with family and friends?

wandering outside in the new fallen snow

a cross country ski in the neighborhood

cooking with just enough butter

a little time for crafting

afternoon snowman building

dinner at last