Hang on Honey, It's Gonna Be a Wild Ride!
Monday, January 25, 2010

Year after year it seems, we hear about some poor soul who lost his life trying to cheat death by scaling an 11,000-foot mountain smack-dab in the middle of winter.

What on earth were they thinking? {we ask ourselves}

Did they not know there would be a snowstorm on the mountain in...uh...December? {we scratch our heads in disbelief as we try to understand}

They must've been oxygen-deficient. Or just plain stupid. {we ultimately conclude}

Because no one in his or her right mind would even attempt such a feat, right?

Most people think this way. Not thrill seekers. The opportunity to stare death square in eye and walk away victorious is precisely what fuels the fire burning deep within the heart of a true daredevil. What makes me, you might ask--a born fraidy cat (and proud of it)--qualified to speculate on the motivations of born thrill seekers?

I'm married to one.

And I birthed one.

So there. That makes me an expert.

Eric claims he's not one, but I (and 100% of those who know him) beg to differ. One of his favorite past times is toying with Mother Nature. Need I say more?

He loves storms. When the F5 tornado hit the Oklahoma City area in 1999, he was chasing it. He'll be the first to argue that while everyone in their "right minds" were taking shelter in bathtubs and closets praying fervently to God for safety, he was behind the storm, watching from a safe place while those in their "right minds" were seeking refuge in homes that were likely going to be leveled.

As usual, he has a point. But he still ain't gettin' me to chase no stinkin' tornado. Period.

So why I let him talk me into watching a storm roll in on the Oregon Coast, I have no idea. He's notorious for talking me into doing things I don't realize I don't want to do until the thing I don't realize I don't want to do happens (did you catch all that?). Then I'm cursing him like a tough old lady fighting off an unsuspecting mugger. If only I carried a cane.

It was a 3-day holiday weekend, and rain had been forecast from Canada all the way to the Southern Oregon Coast. With options for kid-friendly activities quite scarce, Eric recommended getting a room right on the beach to watch a storm roll in on the Pacific.

Boy, I really need to research these things before I agree to them.

I thought watching a storm might be cool. Thunder, lightning, and ominous clouds over the Pacific Ocean. What's not cool about that? Umm...being right on the beach, maybe?

The force of the waves crashing against the rocks at Boiler Bay

It was cool at first. As Forrest Gump so eloquently put it, "it started raining sideways". There was some awesome lightning to be seen over the horizon. It was dark, the kids were watching Dora in the hotel room while we sipped wine on the balcony. Then, in passing (like it didn't even matter) he said, "Man, I can't wait to see it at high tide at 2AM." I nearly choked on my wine.

High tide, huh? When we checked in to our hotel earlier that afternoon, it wasn't even high tide and the waves were nearly crashing into the hotel. I couldn't even imagine high tide in the midst of a wild rampage.

By this time, the winds were reaching 70 miles per hour, and I was trying to keep my cool as I felt the waves creeping closer and closer as they crashed along the shore right outside our patio. "High tide...high tide...high tide" was all I could think about at that point. I'm never one to put anything past Mother Nature, and I certainly don't want to be asleep when she's unleashing her fury on what is essentially my back porch at two o'clock in the morning. Oh yes. It was going to be a long, sleepless night for Yours Truly.

We went to sleep at 10pm, and I was awoken at 11:30 by the sounds of heavy winds ripping through the coastline. I jolted out of bed and ran to the window to see waves literally being blown sideways. Let the praying begin.

I decided to get Eric up so he could see how...umm...cool...the storm was, to which he excitedly obliged. It's funny. Our hearts were racing at a very rapid pace for two very completely different reasons! I was hoping he'd stay up and watch while I tried to catch a few Zzz's, but before I could even suggest the possibility of going back to sleep, he jumped into bed and said, "Hey, if you're awake at two o'clock, get me up. I want to see it at high tide."

Punk.

Needless to say, we survived, and I'm here to tell my story. So dramatic, I know.


The calm after the storm.
Coffee. Stat.

As usual, the kids we O-blivious. They ate their McDonald's flapjacks for breakfast while in route to a sandy beach. All was right in their world. What I wouldn't do to be a kid again sometimes.



Wyatt must have sneaked some of Mommy's coffee again.



Sweet boy.
Don't tell me you put sand down your sister's pants?
I knew you were up to no good.



Sweet girl.
Always loyal. Always forgiving.
She will be the best thing to ever happen to her brother.
He owes me.
Big time.







The sun. It's overrated.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010

On our way to the beach.


No. That's a giant rain puddle.

Look closer.

There.

See the buckets?

Like I said, we're on our way to the beach.



I know what you're thinking. The beach? Where's the sunscreen? The swimsuits? Sunglasses? Kites, maybe? But truly. We're going to the beach.

An Oregon beach.


Where the only accessories you need are umbrellas and windbreakers. And buckets with shovels. After all, it is a beach. And where there is sand, there are happy children.






Blast From The Past
Thursday, January 7, 2010

Wyatt's costume craze continues.

He's completely worn out one Spiderman costume.

Got another one for Christmas.

Batman has miraculously remained somewhat intact.

The lengthy hair sessions trying to get his Superman curl just right, have gotten a little out of control (although I must admit, he does have great Superman hair).

And by golly, it doesn't end there. Guess what he found today in a bag of old things to send to Goodwill? The Buzz Lightyear costume he wore two Halloweens ago. I told him it was too small and that he wouldn't be able to fit into it. He proved me wrong.



Some things never die. In fact, some things live to infinity and beyond.






Two Going On Thirty
Friday, January 1, 2010


Seven days ago, Avery was sleeping happily in a crib and wearing diapers. She received this princess dress as a Christmas gift from Uncle Brett and Aunt Stephanie and hasn't been the same since. Fast forward to today and she's proudly sporting her new big girl undies and sipping coffee before dozing in her big girl bed. It's amazing what just a few waves of a magic wand can do.

I have a feeling my baby isn't going to be a baby much longer.









 



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My Wine Personality:
For the most part I’m a chardonnay, as I consider myself to exhibit a somewhat sunny and mellow disposition (most of the time), but because I find a tremendous amount of joy out of showering my two kids with hugs and kisses, I also possess the subtle sweetness often found in a riesling. But don’t be fooled. I love a great outdoor adventure and am willing to try anything once. This occasional display of boldness is thought to match that of a cabernet, whereas my appreciation for nature suggests that I have an earthy component to my personality—very characteristic of a merlot. (more)

 



“Wine rejoices the heart of man and joy is the mother of all virtues.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1771