Molokai

If it is cool and cloudy where you are (as it is here), click this link, enter the site, turn up your speakers and envision yourself on your own private beach sipping a drink with an umbrella in it. We are in the process of cementing our reservation for this fall, which gives us a full half year to anticipate, prepare and look forward...

All Hail the Dunkin' Dinner

For whatever reason, the chances of my children eating their food has a direct correlation to how the food looks and how easy it is to pick up. Thus, our first Dunkin' Dinner - featuring my first attempt at chicken nuggets (surprisingly easy, quick, tasty and fun to pick up and toss down the pie hole).

Chicken O'Nuggets (yes, O' instead of Mc for this house...)
The recipe's from this month's Family Circle (which Maggie and I mistakenly swiped from Freddie's last week - but that's another story...)

1 1/2 pounds of chicken breast, cut into nugget-size pieces
1/3 cup light mayo
1/4 cup dijon mustard
1 cup dried bread crumbs
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
salt and pepper

Mix the mayo and mustard together.
Mix the bread crumbs, garlic powder and thyme (and S&P) together in a pie pan.
Heat oven to broil.
Split the mustard mixture in half. Set half aside for dipping.
Brush chicken nuggets with mustard mixture.
Toss them into the breadcrumb mixture to coat.
Put them on a cookie sheet and broil for about 10 minutes - turning them over halfway through.

Ta-da! EAT!

The dunkin' dinner also featured cut-up veggies (The girls are deep into a love affair with cucumbers and have a long-standing relationship with grape tomatoes. I also bought some petite-hand-sized sweet peppers of various colors at Costco which are going over well.) And, there was also French bread to dip in olive oil/balsamic vinegar.

A little salad dressing, a little ketchup, and we're good to go.

Drama Queen

Can you tell what that face is saying? It is saying, "Do NOT take my picture! LEAVE me alone! I don't WANT to walk with you!" Yes, her t-shirt does actually say, "The World Needs Drama Queens" - but if anyone's asking, we have plenty here at our house. How was that shirt selected, you may wonder? After an exhaustive process that involved ripping every shirt out and trying as many on as possible in order to find one that was the perfect length so as not to in any way compromise the effect of the tutu. What are Mondays for if not to indulge the kids, right? The only thing I could think of doing instead was going to PetSmart and looking at the animals, and letting Mags dress herself did keep us busy for quite some time - and minimized our carbon footprint for the day. It also facilitated the spring cleaning goal of ridding Mags' closet of the clothes that no longer fit.



This picture is taken with the zoom lens from the street as Maggie steadfastly (and loudly) refuses to walk to the mailbox with Ellie and me because she does not have a purse. And SHE NEEDS A PURSE TO GO TO THE MAILBOX. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!



Here, in a fine shot of sisterly love, Maggie has ripped Ellie's magazine (that Ellie and I retrieved from the mailbox) out of Ellie's little hands. You can almost hear Maggie saying, "Ellie, you're such a little kiss ass... Giggling and snuggling with Mama all the time. When I go join the circus, I'm not letting you come with me."

How to send chills down the spines of friends without toddlers

Ellie's room, sometime this morning, from her perspective:

"Hmm, I know I have poop in my diaper, but it feels a little different than usual. I wonder what's going on down there..."

"...Oh! I know! I'll just stick my hand down there in the back just... like... this... Wait a second... YUCK!"

"Wow, what the *^$! is that on my hand??? If I can just wipe if off with the other one... Oh no, there's poop on my sheet now, too... and both hands... and my little pillow!"

"...Well, this sucks. What to do? Mom doesn't know I'm awake yet. Hmm... Let me think... I'm just having trouble clearing my head over this... and the smell... it's kinda distracting..."

"...Gosh, I always do my best thinking when I put ONE THUMB IN MY MOUTH AND MY OTHER HAND IN MY HAIR!!! Why didn't I think of that sooner??? I hope I don't get too much of this poop on my face..... Oh, yeah! If I cry loudly enough, I bet Mom will come in and take care of things. WWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAA, MAMAMAMAMA!!!!!"

(Edited to incorporate her father's feedback: "Of course she knows what's down there. It obviously had to do with all of the chili she's been eating." As her mother, I have to admit that this is 100% true. The girl loves her chili, and clearly has Jay connected the dots accurately. Pretty insightful there, Husband. Good job.)

What a difference a week makes!

Thanks be to the weather gods for offering up days like this on a weekend! It's back to clouds and rain today, but still not nearly as cold as it has been. Hopefully May will bring spring with it.

We took advantage of the sun Saturday morning to go to Lewisville Park just north (2 miles) of Battle Ground (if that gets your attention, Pops...)

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention this...

You be the one to try to tell Mags she can't wear her spring clothes in the snow. This was last Sunday.

Because that last post was kind of gross...

Here are some pictures of the girls, little rays of sunshine that they are... Just Ellie eating oatmeal in her hat and Mags by the fabulous Bisquick Cheeseburger Pie that we made for "Girls Pajama Night" when Jay went to a Blazer's game with Ric and Ray (in a rare demonstration of male bonding on this street that did not involve power tools, explosives or fire).

I'm in Stitches Here...

I had three unsightly moles removed from my face today - I liked to refer to them as "the constellation" and they surrounded my mouth. Hard to believe I'm actually writing about this... Surreal moment of the procedure? At the end when the doctor said, "Do you want to see them? Maybe say good-bye?" And there they were on the surgical tray.

Here is how I feel right now. Aah, the price of vanity.

Just a little tired

I've taught three Jazzercise classes in the last 24 hours. There has also been a fair amount of "Jazzerdrama." There has even been some parenting/pet ownership peppered in as well (Read that as "I have cleaned up both puke and urine." So much for cutting down on paper towel use for Earth Day...). I really want to post a photo of my newly hung mirror (which I used yesterday to observe myself practicing some new songs before trying them out on the folks last night - awesomely incredible), but I am too lazy to go outside and take a picture, put it on the computer and upload it here. Perhaps tomorrow - or even later tonight, but right now, I'm just going to nurse this nice hot after-lunch cuppa Joe and think about how I really should be working on a PowerPoint presentation for a client. Three hours until I need to pick up the girls - If the caffeine kicks in, I can still make some good progress on that. Yep, progress...

Case Logic Camera Case

Here's a picture of my girly-pink padded Case Logic camera case. It fits in the palm of my hand. I'm in love - and so very mobile.

Princess Self-Esteem

Yesterday I was trying to catch a minute's peace on the toilet when Maggie came in to see what was going on. It seems that when someone else goes to the bathroom that it prompts her to have to go, too. Immediately, she wrinkled up her nose:

Eew, Mama! Did you poop? It smells BAD!

Yes, I did. If you don't like it, why don't you just GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM while I'm in here.

I can't leave because I have to poop, too.

Okay, fine. Once I'm done, you can go. But when you poop, it'll stink, too.

No, it won't because my poop doesn't stink.

Pearls Before Breakfast

My sister-in-law Leslie found this mind-blowing (and Pulitzer Prize winning) Washington Post link and sent it to Jay yesterday. Jay is right in pointing out that the results might have been somewhat different if Joshua Bell had played during the afternoon rush instead of the morning. But, I bet they wouldn't have been dramatically different, being that most of us are always rushing off to somewhere for "something important" and losing the serendipitous moments that might have profoundly affected us, if we had bothered to notice.

Here's the deal in a nutshell if you don't want to read the article (although I highly recommend taking 10 minutes and giving it a look - and the video, too). One of the world's most remarkable and well-known violinists agreed to bring his Stradivarius and play incognito at a busy Washington, D.C. metro stop during morning rush hour basically to see how (if) people would respond. With rare exceptions, commuters rushed by without even taking notice. In short, we do not live in the moment. We do not stop and smell the roses. We have lost our sense of wonder...

But, being the mother of two children who still have that sense of wonder intact, one part of the article really "struck a chord" with me. Perhaps it's because it really does get to the core of how I try so hard to raise my kids, and because it makes me wonder (and hope), given the same set of circumstances as the moms in the metro that morning, what I would have done:

After "Chaconne," it is Franz Schubert's "Ave Maria," which surprised some music critics when it debuted in 1825: Schubert seldom showed religious feeling in his compositions, yet "Ave Maria" is a breathtaking work of adoration of the Virgin Mary. What was with the sudden piety? Schubert dryly answered: "I think this is due to the fact that I never forced devotion in myself and never compose hymns or prayers of that kind unless it overcomes me unawares; but then it is usually the right and true devotion." This musical prayer became among the most familiar and enduring religious pieces in history.

A couple of minutes into it, something revealing happens. A woman and her preschooler emerge from the escalator. The woman is walking briskly and, therefore, so is the child. She's got his hand.

"I had a time crunch," recalls Sheron Parker, an IT director for a federal agency. "I had an 8:30 training class, and first I had to rush Evvie off to his teacher, then rush back to work, then to the training facility in the basement."

Evvie is her son, Evan. Evan is 3.

You can see Evan clearly on the video. He's the cute black kid in the parka who keeps twisting around to look at Joshua Bell, as he is being propelled toward the door.

"There was a musician," Parker says, "and my son was intrigued. He wanted to pull over and listen, but I was rushed for time."

So Parker does what she has to do. She deftly moves her body between Evan's and Bell's, cutting off her son's line of sight. As they exit the arcade, Evan can still be seen craning to look. When Parker is told what she walked out on, she laughs.

"Evan is very smart!"

The poet Billy Collins once laughingly observed that all babies are born with a knowledge of poetry, because the lub-dub of the mother's heart is in iambic meter. Then, Collins said, life slowly starts to choke the poetry out of us. It may be true with music, too. (More about Billy Collins' Poetry 180 for kids.)

There was no ethnic or demographic pattern to distinguish the people who stayed to watch Bell, or the ones who gave money, from that vast majority who hurried on past, unheeding. Whites, blacks and Asians, young and old, men and women, were represented in all three groups. But the behavior of one demographic remained absolutely consistent. Every single time a child walked past, he or she tried to stop and watch. And every single time, a parent scooted the kid away.

I don't always know what the hell I'm doing as a mom, and I get frustrated alot when someone thinks it's "princess dance" time when I say it's dinner time or when I think it's time to go to the store and someone thinks it's time to dig up rocks in the driveway... Sometimes I don't want to respond when that same someone calls out, "Mama, come see what I found!" I get angry when paint splatters end up on new clothes and when fingernails get caked with dirt. But, I hope that for as often and as long as I can, I stop with them to look at flowers, listen to street musicians and pay $1 for balloon hats at the farmer's market. (Don't worry, I'm not about to break into "I Hope You Dance...")

Another great book on the same sort of topic: A Sense of Wonder by Rachel Carson.

How Swede...

Today I drove to IKEA for a Hovet mirror for the exercise room. It is tall and unwieldy and in the directions, which are packed inside the wrapper which I removed when I got home is a little picture instructing a cartoon man not to try to carry it by himself. But, I manhandled it alone anyway, hoisted it up into Blue (our old Ford F150) and drove it carefully back across the Columbia River to our house. While I was there, I also treated myself to the $5.99 salmon lunch and a piece of cake. I am feeling so in love with IKEA and all things Swedish right now, that I need to share a game that I just found and played. Because my blood is running blue and yellow today, I need to let you know that I scored a 7 out of 10 and was ranked as a "Swedish furniture god." Here's an interesting article on the big blue box from BusinessWeek, in case you are feeling the need for your own IKEA fix. I will add actual pictures of the mirror once it is up on the wall. We are very close to done with that one room of the outbuilding, and it is kind of exciting...

Hairspray

Maggie loves musicals - the dancing, the singing, the bright colored costumes... and she is in LOVE with Tracy Turnblad. As a mom, I am questioning my parenting skills a little bit because Mags is about a decade too young to appreciate the themes in the movie. Yes, she's dealt with Nazis in The Sound of Music, bathtub-gin-swigging orphanage matrons in Annie, and even ogre-discrimination in Shrek... but never before has she been exposed to a movie where they talk about "negro day" at the Corny Collins Show - or, really, where people talk about other people being fat. We're just rolling with it and hoping that maybe she'll understand that the movie is about all people being equally important and celebrating diversity. Or, maybe she'll just show up at KinderCare one day talking about fat people and "negros." That would suck. Bad parenting on my part? Probably, but it's not a Barbie movie, and she just really loves the music - and Zac Efron, I hate to admit.

Crossing the Land Bridge

Saturday was freakin' beautiful, so we slathered the kids with sunblock, packed up the little red wagon and headed south to the Columbia. At Jay's suggestion, we continued on and crossed the new land bridge over SR14 toward Ft. Vancouver. The kids were super-tolerant when Mama and Papa slaked their thirst afterward with a few pints of Ruby at McMenamin's on the Columbia.

The Vancouver part of the Confluence Project is meant to "reconnect Ft. Vancouver to the waterfront" - as part of a re-establishment of the ancient "tribal crossroads." When walking down there - with the airplanes overhead on their way to PDX, the trains squeaking past, the boats and barges on the Columbia and the cars on SR14, you really do notice how many different types of transportation go through that corridor. You especially notice when you've got a 3-year old pointing every passing vehicle out to you.

Canon SD1100IS is here!

My little brown camera is here - and it came right when the sunny weather arrived! I haven't yet looked at the instructions that I assume came with it - we had it sent to Jay's work, and when he got home on Friday, he just handed me the camera. I've messed around a little with the settings - and it seems great taking close up pictures of things like flowers. It has a kids/pets setting which I've also tried. I still want to look into the image stabilization feature, and I'm having questions about how to upload things easily to my computer - the old camera would just open up the right program without prompting and create a new folder automatically. No biggie.

Aaahhh...

This morning I dropped the girls off and headed straight to April at Beauty First for a cut and color. I hadn't had a cut since the fall, so she lopped off a lot. I put a little makeup on this morning, so after the salon, I was ready to go... home to work for the afternoon. The new camera hasn't arrived yet, so no pics - You'll have to take my word for it.

So Hokey, but I'm Blubbering on the Keyboard

Watch out, the music makes it worse. This is what you get when you google "Old Dog Story."

Varkenshaas

Here is a recipe for pork tenderloin in mustard sauce that is easy and really good. Try it with some potatoes and maybe roasted asparagus. The leftovers are tasty the next day, too. (I know this because at Freddie's you can get a dozen different modestly-sized, preseasoned, adulterated pork tenderloins. BUT, if you want a plain old pork tenderloin that you're going to season yourself - which is totally easy, you almost always have to buy a piece of meat that looks like it came from a gigantic prehistoric wild boar.) I have just been sitting here trying to concentrate on work and the word "Varkenshaas" keeps going through my head - honestly. Sad, no? I must be hungry. Hopefully by posting this, it'll get it out of my head - kind of like when your mind is racing in the middle of the night and it helps to turn on the light and make a list of all the things running through your head so you can just clear out the noggin and get to sleep. Does anyone else do that? I used to - back when I had enough brain cells firing in the wee hours to allow random thoughts to keep me awake. Now that I've got kids, usually, I have so few brain waves splashing around by the time I go to bed, nothing keeps me up.

Seriously, I can't think of anything else that's as fun to say as it is to eat. Try it: VARKENSHAAS. VARKENSHAAS. VARKENSHAAS.

14

Sometimes still a puppy, at least in his head. Often now, an old guy satisfied napping away the afternoon. Always, my shadow and friend.

Thanh Thao Delight

Yesterday I had lunch in Portland with my two old friends - Erica and Thanh Thao. We were joined by Jay and the girls and Erica's husband Tim. Back in the good old Laurelhurst/Hawthorne days, Erica lived across the hall from me and Thanh Thao was an easy walk. You know how sometimes when you go out to eat, you want to try something new? Kind of take your tastebuds on a little adventure? I'm all for that, but not at Thanh Thao. Thanh Thao ain't fancy - it's like a favorite sweater - all about familiarity and comfort. So it's always as follows: for me, harkening back to my vegetarian days, Thanh Thao Delight - a scrumptious creation of veggies and tofu and sauce... Jay gets the beef Pad Thai, extra spicy. Erica and Tim get an appetizer and split the Sizzling Rice Soup. Period. And amen to that.

La Camara esta Muerta

Perhaps because I have already scoped out the new camera that I want and have been talking regularly about it without taking care to cover our existing camera's ears, said existing camera decided not to respond positively to the CPR I tried to perform after it was mistakenly dropped by a 3-year-old onto the hardwood floor this afternoon.

Maybe it's because I have this new camera in my sights, or because we were all caught up in the magic of the dog's birthday celebration or maybe just because it's damn hard lately to keep the camera away from Mags all the time... For whatever reason, she was taking pictures of me cleaning up green frosting off the rug (where Farley had left it after licking it off the dog bone we put on top of his cupcake), and she accidently, with no malice aforethought, dropped the clunker. I can still retrieve the images on it, but the lens no longer goes in (it is stuck in the out position), it makes a lame beeping noise and it flashes a little "E18" on a black screen (as if to explain itself) - which I can only assume is the error message of death among Canon point-and-shoots.

Well, I Did Once Taste a Liv-a-Snap

Today we are making cupcakes for Farley (the dog's) 14th(!) birthday because we need a reason to party and dress up the pets. After all, what are children and pets for if not to do such things - or is that the stay-at-home-mom talking? Do people who get out in the world more often find more sane creative things to do?

Anyway, the only place in our pantry to store my behemoth KitchenAid mixer is the very top shelf. The requires positioning a kitchen chair, putting on good rubber-soled shoes (slippers), establishing a 5-foot all-clear zone so as not to put children in harm's way, saying a silent prayer to the kitchen and parenting gods and slowly lowering the machine to the counter. While I was poised on the chair, mixer precariously balanced on my shoulder, I noticed that Ellie had breached the all-clear zone and grabbed the bucket and gallon container that Jay uses to feed the dingoes from atop the big plastic dog food container below me. In the time it took me to unshoulder the mixer and grab the feeding implements from her chubby little hands, she had poured some excess water from the gallon container into the "food bucket," moistened up some of the crumbly dog food detritus and lifted the canine leftovers like a chalice to her rosy lips. I do believe that as I swiped the purple bucket away that I heard a little, "mmm mmm!"

Dork

I just emailed OPB to tell them that one of their shows drives me crazy when I drive in my car in the morning. Yes, I just sent feedback to my local public radio station about their programming. And it was heartfelt, emotional, critical feedback - because I care so very much.

Photo of the Week

Ellie likes yogurt. Ellie likes music. Ellie likes to laugh. Ellie LOVES hats.

Tempting Fate

I could empty my car out every day (if I ever got that fanatical) and still, each night, it would look as if - well, as if two young children had carried stuffed animals, ice cubes, cracker packages, stickers, extra layers of clothing, dolls, hats, sunglasses, napkins, milk, drawings, blankets, jewelry and even rubber gloves into it (Maggie is lately enjoying pretending she is a food service worker, so, yes, rubber gloves). Couple that with the fact that in order to prolong the life of each pair of exercise shoes I have, I wear them only when I am teaching Jazzercise. This means that I wear one pair of shoes to class, then change into my "good" shoes for class and back out of them after class. So, my "good" shoes (usually 2 or 3 pairs), my microphone case, the makeup that I have to put on to teach (really) and a supply of bottled water are always in my car. In addition, I am usually in the car when I pick up the newspapers and mail. If I have the kids with me at the time, my arms are often too full of toddler to worry about the mail when I get home, so it stays in the car. And, today I went to Costco - so there are 4 jars of applesauce, a huge box of oatmeal, and 3 pounds of coffee in there, too. I pull children's coats from the floor of the backseat to cover whatever I have on the front seat. Last night, in North Portland, I parked my wheeled stuff-lugger by a business that was surrounded by razor wire, so clearly the area was "safe..." (And, Linda, only you know the other dumb trick I pulled at that point...) I go about believing that the junk in my car is enveloped by good karma/a bright aura/a strong force field that will prevent it from ever being pilfered by a ne'er-do-well. Of course, now that I have written this, the Universe has been officially notified that I am aware of the situation. So, I guess I'd better empty it out for real tomorrow or almost certainly find my car with a broken window before the end of the weekend.

Watch Out, Portland

Mama Col is going out drinking tonight. Well, not "drinking" as much as "meeting Linda for drinks," - if there can be a distinction made there. While there will not be "carousing," there will be the opportunity to have a cocktail, and for me that is a wild night of partying, Baby.

Here's where we're going - I have been to another bar in the neighborhood once before, back when my friend Erica's dad told us to be careful in such a "rough and tumble" part of town. I believe in the last 5 years or so that some degree of gentrification has set in. Actually, even then, it was not so bad. But back in the day it felt kind of brazen of us - two girls going out for beers in the bad part of town...

Details tomorrow!

Why We'd Never Survive Homeschooling

Yesterday after lunch, Jay called to inquire as to our well-being (as is typical and kind of him). I told him that Ellie was napping and that Maggie was in the shower. He asked if Ellie had gone down for her nap easily (as if she ever resists) and I had to immediately redirect him: "If you'd like the conversation to turn interesting, you might want to ask about your other daughter - say maybe, 'Why is Maggie in the shower?'"

Okay, why is Maggie in the shower?

Well, she's not just in the shower. She is in the shower in her Ariel swimsuit belting out the chorus of "Tomorrow" from Annie. And she is in the shower because she has to wash the dried glue off of her arms and legs.

Continue...

(A little background... On Mondays and Fridays it's me and the girls - no work, no KinderCare. One of those days, I try to get us out to go on a field trip - maybe lunch in Portland with Jay, maybe a trip to Petco to look at the turtles, parakeets, chinchillas, clown fish, etc...) On the other day, we often stay home. On these days, I try to be a "good" mom. Sometimes, in between our organic breakfast and well-balanced lunch, we'll have music time, outside playtime, cooking time, and - the favorite of all - ART TIME. Art time involves bringing out the "art tablecloth," covering the kitchen table, pulling out various glues, stickers, stamps, construction paper, sparkly dust, yada, yada. Yesterday we had art time, but it came after "pretend play time." Pretend play time had, as you may have guessed, included "pretend swimming" and "singing and dancing on stage/Maggie's bed." (Nothing beats dancing to the Boston Pops Christmas album cranked up as high as it will go.) Now, one cannot pretend swim if one is not properly attired. While I had saved Ellie from Maggie's attempt to strip her of her clothes in favor of a swimsuit, I decided that the easy route/creative mommy approach would be to let Mags wear her Ariel suit.

So, at art time, Maggie was still in her swimsuit. I typically try to "guide" art time by cutting up paper and coming up with a theme for our projects. Yesterday, to greet spring, I had cut up green paper flower stems and leaves, and yellow and orange flower petals. I am very conscious of "over guiding" though - It is not my intent to teach my kids to make perfect construction paper flowers, so when Maggie decided that she'd rather play with glue on the paper than carefully place individual flower petals, I let her. Hence, Maggie, dressed in her swimsuit, with her little arms and legs covered with glue.

The thing of it is that if you are 3 and decide to smear glue all over yourself, Mommy may not respond right away. So, half an hour later, when you are eating your grilled cheese sandwich and complaining as you pick dried up glue off your arm, Mommy's only solution is to finish your lunch and get in the shower. In your Ariel swimsuit, if you want. And listen to how great it sounds when you sing in there.

I have no photos of Maggie covered in glue - honestly it would not have photographed well. Fortunately, I do have photos of the day when we fingerpainted during art time. They illustrate "art time" pretty effectively.