Things I miss about Oregon (in no particular order):
1. Dutch Bros. More specifically, blended Caramelizers.
2. Views of Mt. Hood.
3. My mom.
4. Okay, my whole family.
5. My friends. Debra, Dawn, Jeanette, Rachel #2... Just to name a few.
6. Familiarity. I miss know where everything is and how to get there.
7. My church.
8. My house.
9. People pumping your gas for you.
10. No sales tax. I detest sales tax.
...Just to name a few.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Breathing new life
into this poor, sadly neglected blog. How did I let nearly five months go by without even attempting a new post?
Our family is about to experience a major change. I want to capture every bit of it I can, both as we prepare for the change and as we experience it. We are going to do something I never, ever thought I'd do...
We are moving across the country.
In just three short weeks, we will pack up everything we own, load it onto a truck, and drive over 2,500 miles from Oregon to Ohio.
I am an Oregoinan, through and through. I was born and raised here. I have lived here, in the same city (save the 3 years I lived in California for college) all my life. When we moved back here as newlyweds, I jsut knew we'd raise our kids here, too. Well, until now. Up until I was 23, the furthest east I had ever been was Las Vegas. Since then I have visited Ohio once, Indiana for my brother's wedding, and visited family friends in Illinois.
I'm hoping to turn the lights back on in this old blog and set up camp. I want to record this journey our family is taking, especially since we'll soon be embarking on the longest road trip of our lives.
Our family is about to experience a major change. I want to capture every bit of it I can, both as we prepare for the change and as we experience it. We are going to do something I never, ever thought I'd do...
We are moving across the country.
In just three short weeks, we will pack up everything we own, load it onto a truck, and drive over 2,500 miles from Oregon to Ohio.
I am an Oregoinan, through and through. I was born and raised here. I have lived here, in the same city (save the 3 years I lived in California for college) all my life. When we moved back here as newlyweds, I jsut knew we'd raise our kids here, too. Well, until now. Up until I was 23, the furthest east I had ever been was Las Vegas. Since then I have visited Ohio once, Indiana for my brother's wedding, and visited family friends in Illinois.
I'm hoping to turn the lights back on in this old blog and set up camp. I want to record this journey our family is taking, especially since we'll soon be embarking on the longest road trip of our lives.
*This is not exactly what the route will look like. This is me using Paint to draw a squiggly line on a map of the United States. But you get the idea.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
never a dull moment
Potty training is going fabulously. We have had nothing but success since yesterday. In fact, this morning while in the bathtub she told me she needed to go. So she got out of the tub, climbed on the toilet and did her business. She's got this thing down.
After their bath, I dried Audrey, wrapped her in a towel and sat her on the floor while I turned to Julia. She crawled off, towel still hooded over head and dragging behind her. I watched her head towards the bedroom, where I was going to get her dressed in a minute anyway, so I thought, What's the harm?
Never again.
As soon as I finished drying Julia, I sent her to her room to get dressed. No sooner had she left did I hear her blood-curdling scream. "Moooommmmyyyyy! Audrey...... she POOPED! And it's EVERYwhere!!"
In less than two minutes, Audrey had managed to poop on the floor, crawl in it, drag two ride-on toys through it, and smash it into the carpet. In her sister's room, of course.
All this before 10 a.m.
I need more coffee.
After their bath, I dried Audrey, wrapped her in a towel and sat her on the floor while I turned to Julia. She crawled off, towel still hooded over head and dragging behind her. I watched her head towards the bedroom, where I was going to get her dressed in a minute anyway, so I thought, What's the harm?
Never again.
As soon as I finished drying Julia, I sent her to her room to get dressed. No sooner had she left did I hear her blood-curdling scream. "Moooommmmyyyyy! Audrey...... she POOPED! And it's EVERYwhere!!"
In less than two minutes, Audrey had managed to poop on the floor, crawl in it, drag two ride-on toys through it, and smash it into the carpet. In her sister's room, of course.
All this before 10 a.m.
I need more coffee.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
cold turkey
I always thought quitting something cold turkey just meant that you gave it up abruptly. And it does mean that, but according to Wikipedia, the phrase was originally coined for drug addicts and alcoholics.
I'm (obviously) not talking about either of those.
Each of my girls, however, gave up something abruptly in the past week. Audrey nursed for the last time on Friday night, and that was that. No warning, no easing into it like I had planned. Nope. She just refused, then refused again, then again, and finally I stopped offering. Honestly, I wasn't terribly sad. My goal had been to nurse exclusively for a year, and we did. (As an aside: because of the trouble I had with Julia, I vowed to never give Audrey a bottle. And I didn't. Girl's only had breastmilk straight from the source or water [and whole milk after her 1st birthday] from a sippy cup. I am super proud of that.)
I was planning on weaning her soon anyway. She just gave up a little sooner than I had hoped. Man, though, quitting cold turkey like that was seriously painful... but I'll spare you gory the details. Let's just say ice packs, a tight-fitting sports bra, and a bottle of Ibuprofen were my friends. Dear, dear friends. It is only Tuesday though, and I can already see the light at the end of the tunnel, so all in all it's not so terrible. (I probably would've had a different opinion yesterday, though).
And today, Julia gave up her Pull-Ups. Cold turkey. When she woke this morning they had "magically" disappeared. Go big or go home, right?
No, seriously, this was the last straw in my arsenal of potty-training. Whoever said girls are supposed to be easy lied. A big, fat, ugly, mocking lie. Because my very smart little girl is three months past her third birthday and still never used the toilet. Ever. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
We changed that today.
She put on big girl panties. We set the oven timer to go off every 15 minutes. And I pretended like sitting on the toilet was the most exciting, riveting thing in the world. (I've been trying that for over a year now. She's still not buying it.) I named every single person (real or imaginary) I could think of that also uses the potty. One time I even bribed her with a few M&M's while she sat, just for climbing up there.
She peed on the floor. Twice. (The first time it happened, there were 26 seconds left on the timer. 26!!) She asked for a Pull-Up on multiple occasions. And I admit, I was a little discouraged. But we pressed on. Every 15 minutes that obnoxious timer would go off and we'd both high-tail it to the bathroom.
Finally, finally, it happened. 6:28 pm. I was washing the dinner dishes in the kitchen, the girls were playing together in the living room. There was ample time left before the next trek to the bathroom. Julia walked past me casually and announced, "I meed to go potty." I didn't expect much, because she'd done that several times already today (today? Who am I kidding? Several times over the past year, too!). But I followed her in.
Wouldn't you know it, that girl walked in, pulled down her panties, sat on the toilet, and peed. Like it was no big deal. As if she'd done it a hundred times before.
And I whooped and hollered and squealed like someone just handed me a million bucks. We called Daddy in and she proudly showed him what she had done. We called Nana. Audrey clapped for Big Sister and gave out high-fives to celebrate.
My big girl. She did it. She finally, finally did it. And this Mama is so very proud.
I'm (obviously) not talking about either of those.
Each of my girls, however, gave up something abruptly in the past week. Audrey nursed for the last time on Friday night, and that was that. No warning, no easing into it like I had planned. Nope. She just refused, then refused again, then again, and finally I stopped offering. Honestly, I wasn't terribly sad. My goal had been to nurse exclusively for a year, and we did. (As an aside: because of the trouble I had with Julia, I vowed to never give Audrey a bottle. And I didn't. Girl's only had breastmilk straight from the source or water [and whole milk after her 1st birthday] from a sippy cup. I am super proud of that.)
I was planning on weaning her soon anyway. She just gave up a little sooner than I had hoped. Man, though, quitting cold turkey like that was seriously painful... but I'll spare you gory the details. Let's just say ice packs, a tight-fitting sports bra, and a bottle of Ibuprofen were my friends. Dear, dear friends. It is only Tuesday though, and I can already see the light at the end of the tunnel, so all in all it's not so terrible. (I probably would've had a different opinion yesterday, though).
And today, Julia gave up her Pull-Ups. Cold turkey. When she woke this morning they had "magically" disappeared. Go big or go home, right?
No, seriously, this was the last straw in my arsenal of potty-training. Whoever said girls are supposed to be easy lied. A big, fat, ugly, mocking lie. Because my very smart little girl is three months past her third birthday and still never used the toilet. Ever. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
Because I know you were just dying to see a picture of our toilet.
We changed that today.
She put on big girl panties. We set the oven timer to go off every 15 minutes. And I pretended like sitting on the toilet was the most exciting, riveting thing in the world. (I've been trying that for over a year now. She's still not buying it.) I named every single person (real or imaginary) I could think of that also uses the potty. One time I even bribed her with a few M&M's while she sat, just for climbing up there.
She peed on the floor. Twice. (The first time it happened, there were 26 seconds left on the timer. 26!!) She asked for a Pull-Up on multiple occasions. And I admit, I was a little discouraged. But we pressed on. Every 15 minutes that obnoxious timer would go off and we'd both high-tail it to the bathroom.
Finally, finally, it happened. 6:28 pm. I was washing the dinner dishes in the kitchen, the girls were playing together in the living room. There was ample time left before the next trek to the bathroom. Julia walked past me casually and announced, "I meed to go potty." I didn't expect much, because she'd done that several times already today (today? Who am I kidding? Several times over the past year, too!). But I followed her in.
Wouldn't you know it, that girl walked in, pulled down her panties, sat on the toilet, and peed. Like it was no big deal. As if she'd done it a hundred times before.
And I whooped and hollered and squealed like someone just handed me a million bucks. We called Daddy in and she proudly showed him what she had done. We called Nana. Audrey clapped for Big Sister and gave out high-fives to celebrate.
My big girl. She did it. She finally, finally did it. And this Mama is so very proud.
Monday, September 12, 2011
because i promised
It is nearly impossible to write a blog post while potty training a toddler and trying to keep a (fast!) crawling baby out of things like computer cords, covered outlets, the trash, and eating every. single. tiny piece of, well, anything she can find. From my what-I-thought-were-very-clean floors. And that was just today.
A while back I asked you what you thought this was a picture of.
And now would you please excuse me while I go run the vacuum. Again.
A while back I asked you what you thought this was a picture of.
Looks weird, huh?
I stumbled across a recipe from Pioneer Woman for THE best tasting iced coffee I have ever had. Seriously. I've always liked iced coffee, and after making it the "Pioneer Woman" way I've fallen in love.
The picture is simply of some coffee grounds mixed with water in a large bowl. (I don't have the nifty containers Ree has. And I didn't make nearly as much as her recipe calls for.) So if you're a fan of iced coffee, I definitely recommend you try this recipe. You'll be glad you did.
And now would you please excuse me while I go run the vacuum. Again.
Friday, August 26, 2011
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