Sipping Chardonnay

Happy Birthday, Josie!

2012-02-12T21:02:00.004-06:00

Our not-so-little pup turned ONE last week.

We didn't do anything too wild and crazy to celebrate her big day, but she did get her first spa treatment.

And let me just say...it was not my idea. My husband can take full credit for looking up the most "masculine" pet spa in our area (sounds sort of like an oxymoron to me, but whatever makes him feel better), and treating her to a bath, blow dry, ear cleaning, and nail trim. Avery requested multi-colored nail polish, but that's where Eric drew the line.

It's amazing how much she has changed in one year.

She is a bundle of energy and absolutely adores Wyatt, Avery, and anyone else who walks through the door. Her favorite activities include fetch, catch, and water retrieving. She can destroy a brand new squeaker toy in about 30 seconds flat, and she'll do absolutely anything for a spoonful of peanut butter or a squeeze of easy cheese. Or beer.

Like father, like dog.

When you meet her for the first time, she'll lick you like a popsicle on a hot summers day. Yes, she is a licker. Annoying yes, but hey, it's better than having a crotch sniffer.

Happy 1st Birthday, Josie Edgar!

Who the heck reads this stuff?

2012-01-30T20:59:00.005-06:00

Did I ever tell you about the time Eric and I started a book club for just the two of us?

I didn't?

Surely, I must have.

Oh, you're right. Now I remember. That's because said book club only lasted about two weeks.

You see, my husband and I share many of the same interests. Reading being one of them. Which is why it seemed like such a grand idea at the time to start a mini book club in an effort to spend more quality time with one another. Awesome, right? There was really only one major hiccup. What books do we read?

Just to give you a glimpse into where I'm going with this, when I shop for books on Amazon.com (Yes, we still buy books. Actual books. With pages and everything), these are the types of books you'll see in my Cart:

When Eric shops for books on Amazon.com, these are the types of books you'll see in his Cart:

Ah yes. Now you're starting to understand.

You may be thinking, even with reading interests on completely opposite ends of the spectrum, there is surely some way to find a happy medium, right?

Uh, not really.

And that was the end of that.

Scrabble. We just need to stick to Scrabble. He gets to show off his unlimited vocabulary while I drink wine. Everybody wins.

(I suppose I too would be a walking dictionary if I read more of the complete stories on the Arctic, but I'd rather embrace my remedial side, thank you very much).

So the next time you're walking through that section in the bookstore--you know, the one that makes you stop, shake your head, and wonder aloud "Who the heck reads this stuff?"--I hope you'll think of me and get a kick out of the fact that my husband likely owns most of them.

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T20:56:00.011-06:00

New Years Eve. Blah.....

Historically for me, New Years Eve has been the one holiday celebration I enjoy the least. Okay, that's not true. It just plain sucks. Year after year.

Eric shares my sentiment on this, which is why he'd rather work. Year after year. Apparently, seeing stroke cases in the E.R. is much more appealing than seeing nut cases make fools of themselves at some lame party. I don't blame him.

There is one thing I do look forward to on New Years Eve, and that's sitting down at my computer and composing the final blog post of the year, reflecting on all that our family has accomplished over the past 365 days. For me, there's no better way to ring in a brand new year. And it's probably the only way you can get me to stay awake until midnight. So here it goes.

The Edgar Family Highlights of 2011:

1. Our first full year in Oklahoma brought record-breaking snowfall, violent tornados, and the hottest summer on record. Not to mention the 5.6 magnitude earthquake that bolted us out of a dead sleep last month, the largest quake to hit the state. Ever.

Here's to hoping 2012 has Mother Nature picking on someone her own size. But if not, you can bet the Edgar family is already armed with snow shovels and bags of rock salt just in case.

2. We welcomed our first pet into the family--an 8-week-old yellow lab pup we named Josie. Thanks to her, our new home has been broken in quite nicely. The gnawed-on baseboards and crown moulding really give it a nice touch, a little bit of character which was lacking in its otherwise pristine state. Not quite what I had in mind when I signed on for a family pet, but hey, it is what it is. She certainly has her flaws, but don't we all! She makes up for it when she looks at us with those big brown eyes, or throws the kids into hysterics by licking them from head to toe. She's a keeper, this one.

Here's to surviving puppyhood! May the new year bring our family more dog-filled memories. And new baseboards.

Then

Now

3. This was the year Wyatt discovered the iPad. And Angry Birds. Enough said.

4. This was a big year for Eric the Outdoorsman. He bagged his first deer, as well as an antelope and wild hog. And do you know what is most awesome? For the very first time in our 8 years of marriage, we will have dead animals adorning the walls of our house (granted, we're only talking about a few mutually agreed-upon walls, but still). Every girls dream, let me tell you. He also spent an entire week fishing in Alaska and brought home over 65 lbs of fresh salmon and halibut, which now reside in our freezer alongside the plethora of other wild game. It's a shame that 98% of my recipes call for chicken. Fancy that.

Here's to a willingness to try new things in 2012. Anyone care to join us for an antelope burger?

5. This year I've experienced for the first time what life is like as a stay-at-home-mom with both kids in school full time. Many people asked me what I planned to do with my time. My response was always the same. "Whatever the heck I want. Maybe for the first time in 6 years, I will actually be able to complete a project--or just a simple thought--from start to finish in one sitting!" Others predicted I would get bored, but I never feared that would happen. I generally have no problems finding something to do. And as much as I have fully intended to sit around and eat bonbons at least a few times since school started in August, I've managed to keep myself busier than I could have ever imagined. While I still can't seem to fit in the time to read my favorite books, update my blog, or keep my house clean, I always make time for fitness. I run a lot. I recently finished the Tulsa Run (9.3 miles) and would really like to run at least one destination half marathon a year, starting in 2012. I also discovered Pilates this year, and it may just be my new obsession. Needless to say, I'm thoroughly enjoying having a bit of free time during the day to focus on myself again. Being without my kids during the day also affords me the opportunity to miss them, which I had never experienced before. It makes our time together in the evenings and weekends much more meaningful. I love that!

Here's to living a healthy lifestyle in 2012 and finding some time to pamper ourselves.

6. Avery has grown leaps and bounds in 2011. Since she was 3 months old, she has suffered from severe stranger anxiety. In fact, this time last year her teachers were very much concerned about her confidence level, and her ability to relate to her peers. But there was something about her fourth birthday that flipped a switch in her. She is now incredibly confident and makes friends easily. I love watching her smile when she talks about her friends, and listening to her giggle uncontrollably at the mention of her favorite boy in class.

Here's to another worry-free year filled with happiness, laughter, and friendship. Food for the soul!

7. I was really hoping I would be able to share 10 highlights, but it is now after midnight and officially past my bedtime. And I take my beauty sleep seriously! But before I sign off, I just want to share one final highlight of the year, and one that means so much to me. I was very ambivalent, to say the least, about moving back to my hometown. When I moved away 16 years ago, I never looked back and never wanted to. So making the decision to raise my kids in the same community has been quite an adjustment for me. But I have to say, there are some pretty amazing people who live in small town america whom I've had the privilege to meet and get to know over the past year and now I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. I never imagined I'd love it as much as I do and I'm so glad my children will get to experience life in a small town with such a strong sense of community. I'm so grateful for the old friends I've reconnected with and the new friendships just starting to blossom. You all have truly made us feel at home.

Here's to hoping and believing the blessings of 2012 are as abundant as 2011.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Pinkalicious!

2011-11-19T21:02:00.005-06:00

Today I learned something new about my six-year-old son.

Musical theatre makes him want to claw his eyes out.

(Especially when he's one of only 3 boys in a theatre filled with pig-tailed pretties prancing around in pink tutus and waving their magic wands in anticipation of seeing their favorite storybook character come to life on stage.)

Ah, yes. Pinkalicious was in the house. And Wyatt was beyond thrilled.

Okay, so maybe he was a little less than excited. The drama queen in the family, however, was...shall we say...tickled PINK!

I love it that my kids are finally at an age which allows us to enjoy (or suffer through) activities like this together. It often makes for interesting conversation during the car ride home. And for the record, when asked who his favorite character was, Wyatt responded with an enthusiastic "all of them!" So either he really enjoyed the show more than he let on, or his daddy has already trained him that when it comes to women, it's always best to just tell them what they want to hear.

Considering Avery herself is quite the little performer, I have a feeling Wyatt may have many more opportunities to cultivate a love (or at least an appreciation) of the the performing arts in the years to come. Regardless of what she does, whether it be belting out a song on stage or scoring soccer goals, this little girl can always count on me to be her #1 fan.

Fall Break Getaway

2011-10-26T09:01:00.012-05:00

Every time my kids are out of school on break, I have these grand ideas to spend good quality time together as a family, letting them set the agenda. Without fail, however, life (okay...housework) just always seems to get in the way and quality time takes a back seat. As a result, I have two bored, bickering gremlins ready to claw each other's eyes out. But boy, do my floors sparkle!

I've finally realized that despite my best intentions, the only way to truly get the most out of a 5-day break from school is to get the heck out of town, where dirty dishes and dust particles are someone else's problem. So last Tuesday, I picked the kids up from school, popped a movie in the DVD player, and fumbled my way through the navigation system. Moments later, we were burning rubber on a southbound highway headed straight for the Lonestar State. Destination: Grapevine, Texas!

The first item on the agenda was to hit the new LegoLand Discovery Center. If you've been following this blog for a while then you're very much aware of Wyatt's obsessive tendencies. He has time in his life for only one obsession at a time, and right now, it's Legos. He speaks of nothing else, dreams of nothing else, and spends countless hours designing his own imaginative creations. If you ask him today what he wants to be when he grows up, he'll emphatically reply, "an engineer for Lego."

And here is your future engineer hard at work building a super speedy rocket racer...

...while Avery entertains guests in the Princess Palace with her mad karaoke skills.

Building legos is serious business for Wyatt. There is no doubt in my mind he carefully considered each and every piece that went into constructing his super speedy rocket racer. But would it stand up against models created by some of the other young lego enthusiasts? Wyatt's heart was nearly beating out of his chest as the competitors lined up at the start. "On Your Mark. Get Set. Go!"

By this time, beads of sweat had formed over both of our brows as we anticipated the results.

Wait for it.....Wait for it....

SCORE!!!

He's so over-the-top. It's part of what makes Wyatt, Wyatt.

Meanwhile, Avery is still rocking out to Miley Cyrus.

The little pop star did end up taking a break from singing to build a few lego creations, but she seemed much more interested in making friends and carrying on imaginary conversations with them.

Constantly talking and singing to herself. It's part of what makes Avery, Avery.

We easily spent the entire day at the LegoLand Discovery Center. When asked if they had a good time, Wyatt responded with an enthusiastic "It was off-the-hook, AWESOME!"

The following day, we shopped until we dropped at the Grapevine Mills Mall. One thing you should know about me--if you don't already--is that I hate to shop. Let's just say in the past year I've shopped the mall in Grapevine TX more than I have the mall in Tulsa OK. And I can certainly count on one hand the number of times I've ever brought my kids with me to a mall (and that includes trips to see Santa). But nevertheless, we were on vacation. And we were all in need of shoes. Puma's, Skechers, Vans...Oh, My! We were definitely in shoe heaven at the Grapevine Mills Mall. We also took a couple of breaks to ride the carousel,

and run like hamsters in these strange water Bobbles,

("Hey kids, I'm going to get some coffee. See you in an hour!")

but at the end of the day we walked out of that place with bags and bags of...well...shoes!! It was awesome. The entire day, Wyatt walked through the mall shaking his head in disbelief that I was allowing them to do and buy whatever they wanted. "Well that's what happens when you're on vacation, Buddy!" He learned a few days later on the car ride home that my generosity was indeed short-lived when he was denied a stop at the Dairy Queen for his daily dose of ice cream. "Nope," I said. "Vacation's over. Mommy's back to being a crab. Sorry."

I can't imagine how on earth he was interested in ice cream after his attempt to devour the famous Lava Cake at Rainforest Cafe the night before.

Goodness gracious, I feel sick just looking at it.

He made a valiant attempt, but sadly lasted only a few bites. Avery felt the effort was deserving of a kiss nonetheless (it doesn't take much these days), but Wyatt's strong aversion to girl cooties had him running for the hills.

We concluded our 4-day little rendezvous at Six Flags Over Texas. So fun!

We were a little limited on the rides we could ride since Avery was just shy of 42 inches, but we somehow managed to close the park down at 11PM with rides still on our list. Perhaps we would've made it to all of them had Mommy not insisted on a character drawing of her two darlings, but seriously, it's one of Six Flags' best souvenirs in my opinion.

We had such a blast. Grapevine is such a great little destination for young families. It's not the first time we've been there and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last.

I'm having blog-abandonment issues.

2011-10-03T08:56:00.008-05:00

I can't tell you how many times during the past two months I've contemplated laying this blog to rest. I have so many things I want to share with the 3 people who still follow it, yet finding the extra 5-10 minutes to document them has proven to be an insurmountable task. But every time I think of calling it quits, I find myself randomly clicking on blog entries dated two years ago and my mind becomes instantly flooded with memories of days that had long been forgotten. I have come to the realization that this blog is not so much for you all who read it (sorry to break it to you), but for me and my god-awful memory. Because I have blogged so little the past year, I realize that my mind will forever purge some of the greatest experiences we've had simply because I didn't take the time to write about them, and it makes me sad...and a little mad. I can't promise weekly updates, but I hope to post more frequently than I have been lately, even if it means waking up at the crack of dawn (wait, I already do that) or staying up late (hmmm...not happening). I will also rely heavily on my faithful buggers--Ashley Landfield and Wendy Auten--who are the first to admonish me for being blog-lazy. Thanks for keeping me in line, ladies.

Onward...

Let's see. The kids started a new school year 6 weeks ago. How's that for breaking news?

Kindergarten in a big school with big kids.

You've got this, kiddo!

Four-year-old Grows Ghetto Booty Overnight

(now that's a headliner!)

College football season started just after that.

(as did the grief given to me by my fellow Oklahoma State grads)

Then the real madness began. And it can be summed up in six words:

Soccer, Football, Dance, Swim, Karate, and Gymnastics

And now that mom has accepted the position of Vice President of the PTO, she's pretty much screwed in the Free Time department.

Needless to say, most of our days are spent in the car driving from one end of town to the other. But as of late, it's really one of my favorite places to be.

To quote Wyatt, "Mommy's new car is Bomb-bastic!"

Son, Mommy couldn't agree more.

We may be living life in the fast lane these days (pun intended), but we're having an absolute blast. Wyatt recently celebrated his 6th birthday (pictures coming soon...promise), and Avery has gone from a shy little caterpillar to a vibrant, outgoing, social butterfly who wants everything to do with her girlfriends and nothing at all to do with stinky boys (except her brother, whom she's adamant upon marrying one day). Oh yes, the girlish nightmare has begun. And so have the pedicures. Lord help us.

Back-to-School pedicure with with her friend, Peityn,

whom she gets to see every single day.

BFF's RULE!

And finally, the Tulsa State Fair is in town this week. Even though I am highly allergic to such mayhem, I couldn't pass up an opportunity to take my girl to Disney on Ice...a first for each of us. It too, was pretty "bomb-bastic!"

I'm definitely at a point in motherhood when it is starting to sink in that my kids are growing up on me. And fast. I've been spending a little more time lately tucking them in at bedtime and sneaking in as many butterfly kisses as they will allow.

Here's to another great week of making memories. And recording them. So that in two years when I think about calling it quits again, I'll have a plethora of reasons to reconsider.

A Unique BURPday Greeting

2011-08-14T11:14:00.004-05:00

Last week we celebrated Eric's birthday. This week we're celebrating Eric's birthday.

All because of a birthday card from Eric's parents. See for yourself.

I have a feeling we'll be celebrating Daddy's birthday for several more weeks. Or at least until school starts. Who knows, I may even have to make a call to America's Got Talent.

She may be small, but she can pack a punch.

2011-07-31T11:54:00.004-05:00

Avery tested for her gold belt in Karate on Friday. It was her first demonstration in front of a crowd and we couldn't have been more proud. Or entertained. For such a petite little thing, she's got a pretty good set of lungs on her.

Check out this little kitten with a tiger's roar:

Ode To My Car

2011-07-23T08:34:00.011-05:00

In ten days, my poor little pitiful Passat will be paid off. It seems absolutely crazy that a person could still owe money on an almost 10-year-old vehicle, but alas, I do. For ten more days.

And ten days after that, I'll probably go and sign myself up for another car payment. Sounds about right, eh?

It's so hard to believe that the poor little pitiful Passat's days are numbered. For months I've been salivating over the idea of new car, taking my sweet time trying to figure out exactly what I want and what's going to fit the needs of our family. As often as I find myself daydreaming of a smoother ride, a flawless paint job, and a built-in DVD player (oh, yeah!), I can't help but feel a little tug of guilt about trading my baby in for a newer model. Strangely, it just feels like an act of betrayal. She may be old, but she has character and personality. If she could talk, she'd have quite a story to tell about the 2,190 days she has spent carting our family from one destination to another.

Like a person, my poor little pitiful Passat has birthmarks, bruises, and scars which tell a story. They make her unique to any other car sputtering down the road, and tell the exciting tale of her adventures with our family.

The CHECK ENGINE light. It's been on for about...oh...5 years. It serves as a daily reminder just how fragile she is and how grateful I should be that we are able to get to and from the Pre-K Center each day.

A few years ago, I let the kids play inside the car so I could actually get something accomplished around the house. Or to go to the bathroom by myself, I'm not really sure which. At any rate, it cost me three knobs to my car stereo. At the time, it was probably worth it. In three years those suckers never surfaced. Not a one. They literally grew legs and walked off, never to be seen again. Lesson learned.

Her very first parking lot fender bender. Of the plethora of Subaru's and Volkswagen's in the City of Portland, I had to back into a BMW. Leave it to me.

This is why my husband is a doctor and not a mechanic. He could probably perform a spinal tap with his eyes closed. But when it comes to changing a tire...well...see for yourself (In his defense, he was on the very narrow shoulder of Interstate 5 in the middle of a thundersnow. Yes, Portland does in fact have thundersnow's. Just another thing that makes Portland weird). Soon after Eric risked his life and forever disfigured my car, we were very proud members of AAA. It's a good thing too, because we came to rely heavily on their services for the next year or two that followed.

This is a picture of my headlight. Nothing super special about it, except for the fact that a very special guest has been taking up residence inside of it for a little more than two years. Here. Have a closer look.

There would be days I'd find Wyatt and Avery tapping the glass and talking playfully to this little critter who was using my headlight as its coffin. Heck, before Josie came along, it was the closest thing they ever had to a pet. Sad, but true. What I find most amusing, however, is that even after I took the car in to have this very headlight replaced, the critter remained. He was destined to be with us.

And this one wins the award for Most Colorful Blemish. This one is pretty fresh, happening the day of Avery's birthday party when I tried to back out of the parking lot onto a busy street. I backed into their marquee sign instead. Normally, I would've beaten myself up about it, stressing about the damage and how to get it fixed. Rather, I took one look, shrugged my shoulders, and thanked God it was only a pole and not another vehicle, and that the pole was still in its upright position. No harm, no foul.

Over the past 6 years, this car has literally and figuratively taken a beating. By the kids, she's been spit up on, peed on, and has had countless goldfish crackers stomped and forever embedded in her floorboard. She's been pushed beyond her limits on some of the worst mountainous backroads found in the Pacific Northwest, and has driven us safely across snowy mountain ranges with chains snuggly secured around her tires. She's covered a lot of ground, this poor little pitiful Passat. With us alone, she's burned rubber in Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and now Oklahoma. Amongst the plethora of Tahoe's, Suburban's, and pick-up trucks, she is most certainly out of her element here...doesn't quite fit the Oklahoma Bigger is Better mold. Unfortunately, bigger is what our family needs right now, especially with the addition of a 50 lb animal, 50 lbs (or more) of sporting equipment, as well as other friends and family members to tote around town.

We've just simply outgrown our little VW. But she'll be a good car for someone. Until the alternator goes out and Volkswagen wants to charge $800 for a replacement. Then they'll want to drive her off a cliff and watch her burst into flames. Trust me. I've been there.

My Two Front Teeth

2011-07-22T10:55:00.001-05:00

Any guesses on what this little boy wants for Christmas?

Porter Peach Festival

2011-07-16T08:38:00.003-05:00

Triple-digit temperatures this summer have made spending long (or even short) periods of time outdoors rather unbearable. For two people completely against having a pool, Eric and I have pretty much "warmed" up to the idea. It's no longer a matter of if, but when!

Last night we decided to brave the elements in the small town of Porter, OK for the annual Porter Peach Festival. At 5 0'clock, the heat index must have been at least 106 degrees and didn't really change much by the time we finally decided to throw in the towel 3 hours later. It was so hot, there was nary a peach to be sold, save for one small table with about 3 bags on it, and those were most likely just for show!

But we made the most of it and played a couple of carnival games, rode a few rides, and made a valiant attempt to enjoy an ice cream cone before it formed a melted puddle at our feet.

Goodness, this boy is getting so big.

Nothing about him looks like a 5-year-old.

Enjoying the nice breeze on the dragon ride

On the carousel with Dad

Our final stop before seeking refuge in our air-conditioned vehicle was the face-painting booth, the one thing Wyatt's festival experience would not have been complete without. I strongly encouraged him to pick a design that was simple, one that wouldn't itch his face off. But I should've known better. Subtlety is not one of his strong suits.

Avatar and Lil' Angel

Today you can bet we'll be staying inside, furthering our research on pool installation and design.

Girl Power

2011-07-16T06:00:00.001-05:00

When Eric and I married almost 8 years ago, he did so on the condition that I would produce only boys for offspring. He was dead serious. And scared shitless of having a daughter. Ever. So with our first pregnancy, Eric was more relieved than excited to learn we were having a boy. The second time around, I think he was a little nervous but overall felt confident in our ability (as if we had anything to do with it) to produce an XY baby. Needless to say, he was a bit caught off guard with the news that God doesn't actually take gender requests. We were having a girl!

Warming up to the idea of having a daughter didn't happen overnight for Eric. He was raised by a woman, married a woman, yet was terrified of raising one. I didn't quite understand it and didn't spend much time trying. However, by the time Avery started dishing out bedtime kisses with protruding puckered lips that never smacked, or producing golf-ball-sized tears that never dried, he was putty in her soft, delicate hands. To this day, even when Eric is being dragged against his will (so he claims) to events like dance recitals and birthday fashion shows, he never fails to admit that he's so glad we had a girl.

Daddy/Daughter Dance

(on stage, in front of...well...the whole town)

Apparently this is Eric being dragged kicking and screaming

to his daughter's dance recital. I don't know about you,

but I'm thinkin' Mikey likes it.

Now, the picture above was my inspiration for writing this post, taken on the day of Avery's 4th birthday party. Good-golly-miss-molly! it's so hard to believe it's been 4 whole years since someone actually succeeded in getting into that thick skull of my husband's and changing the way he thinks. Who would've thought an 8 lb 5 oz little blob with alien eyes could make such an impact on a then 28-year-old grown man. She is so much like him in so many ways (at the ripe old age of four, she's convinced that the only person who knows what's best for her, is her), so I guess it's only fitting that she be the one to crack his code, per se. Now if I could just figure out some way to get her to get him to realize that Mommy is always right, then we'd be golden.

Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo!

2011-07-16T01:32:00.007-05:00

Just for the record, that fancy new mixer I wrote about in my previous post apparently does perform magic. I emptied all of the ingredients for Avery's birthday cake into the mixing bowl, turned it on, sat down for an hour to read a book, then came back to find this perfectly assembled on my kitchen counter:

Alright, so it wasn't that easy. But the mixer did cut the prep time in half, at least. And! I ran into no major snafus as with cakes I've decorated in the past, which made it a very successful and therefore delightful baking experience all around. Avery loved the cake and praised my work--declaring repeatedly that I was "such a good baker"--but refused to eat a single morsel of her own 3-tiered birthday cake. Not because she was afraid to mess it up, but because I had made the mistake of infusing raspberry filling into the middle of each tier. "Mommy, you know I don't like jelly," she scolded. "Well, more for me!" I replied.

We threw a Fancy Nancy dress-up soiree at a little studio called Diva Girlz for her and a few friends. They all had so much fun, and I think the adults had just as much fun watching them!

So hard to believe our baby girl is 4 years old.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Avery!

It just screams sexy.

2011-06-21T07:51:00.005-05:00

In the last 5 years, I've created 1 baby shower and 10 birthday cake masterpieces.

All with a hand-held mixer.

I don't know about you, but I think I've paid my dues. And apparently, so does my husband (after a little convincing on my part), because with all of that elbow grease, I have finally acquired myself an artisan mixer that's so hot it makes my eyes bulge and mouth water. And just in time for the commencement of Avery's 4th birthday cake.

I must keep reminding myself, however, that as fierce as this fire-engine red mixer is, it won't actually bake or decorate the cake (although I wouldn't be surprised if it could). And I'm a bit nervous that it's given me a false sense of confidence because I'm starting to wonder if the cake I've designed for Avery's birthday is a little too, shall we say, over-ambitious.

But in the comforting words of Julia Child, "the only real stumbling block is the fear of failure. In cooking, you've got to have a what-the-hell attitude."

Well, then what-the-hell. Here goes nothing.

School's out! Time to come up for air.

2011-05-17T11:27:00.006-05:00

Today is the last day of school. I'm officially mom to one handsome kindergartner and one beautiful little Pre-K princess.

Handsome and beautiful.

Yep, I'm talking about these two rascals.

Growing like weeds, I tell you.

We've had a tremendously satisfying school year. Wyatt's school exceeded all of our expectations. His teachers were a great fit for his intense personality, which enabled him to focus on learning rather than misbehaving. He absolutely loves school now and has developed a bit of a reputation for being a class clown. A clown he has actually named "Tooty Booty." But all the girls like him, so maybe it was part of his plan all along.

Avery's first school experience started off a little rocky since she has always struggled with severe separation anxiety, but by the end of the year, she became quite smitten with her teachers, Ms. Mary Jo and Ms. Cora. Sadly, and quite unexpectedly, we had to say goodbye to Ms. Mary Jo last week as the Lord called her into Heaven. Her passing was especially difficult on me because, in the very short time I knew Ms. Mary Jo, she loved my daughter as her own. She wiped Avery's tears, wrapped her loving arms around her when she needed to be comforted, and celebrated her successes. In Avery's eyes, Ms. Mary Jo hung the moon. She taught her so much and helped her achieve the confidence she needed to reach out and interact with her peers. We will certainly miss her, as will so many other people in our community she has blessed in her 30+ years of teaching.

Needless to say, it's been a whirlwind of a Spring for us. It's a little hard to believe in just a matter of days...

...baseball season will be over.

[insert happy dance, fist pump, and a big fat "Hallelujah!!"]

Don't get me wrong. I totally love it. Much more than I did soccer. I just don't love scarfing down dinner in the car on the way to the ball fields 3 to 4 nights per week, then not getting home until 8 or 9 o'clock on a school night. I'm ready to live, eat, and breathe something other than t-ball. Like lounging on the couch sipping coffee and reading a book. Now that's an idea I can get behind.

...juggling end-of-year school activities will come to an end.

Between spring performances, Mother's Day tea parties, school-wide field trips, and dance recitals, I'm pooped. There's just no better way to describe it. I'm laid back. Laid back people don't multi-task. It's against our religion.

Field Day at the high school for the Rainbow Bears

Nothing like a good old-fashioned potato sack race.

Mother's Day Tea with Avery

Mother's Day Tea with Wyatt

First Recital!

...the word "schedule" will be temporarily removed from my family's vocabulary.

For the next 2 1/2 months, we'll do WHAT we want WHEN we want. Ahhh....music to my ears. (Unless it also means my kids still want to wake up before the sun does. Then, my friends, we'll have a problem). Of course, I say all of this knowing that in two weeks, and 983 sibling fights later, I'll be begging for August's speedy return.

...our first tornado season back in Oklahoma will be behind us.

Let's just say I'm really starting to regret the decision not to include a safe room in our house plans. It's been a bad, bad year for tornadoes and many of our neighboring cities have suffered tremendous losses. Let's just hope Mother Nature continues to hold Tulsa in her favor.

Regardless, we're ready for summer. Ready for tank tops, flip flops, and frizzy hair (thank you, humidity). Ready for a big birthday shindig (someone's turning 4!), a long overdue family reunion, and grunge-filled camping trips with the kids.

Excuse me while I download and dance a little jig to Will Smith's, Summertime.

Always gets me in the mood.

Cheers!

My Very Own Karate Kid

2011-04-26T21:01:00.006-05:00

Wyatt easily surpasses his fellow classmates in height and weight. He's also just begun his pursuit of a black belt in karate (which he emphatically pronounces "kuh-raw-TAY"). Being only one grade apart, how much you wanna bet Avery NEVER gets picked on in school. Lucky duck.

Somebody asked me what type of karate he's taking.

"Umm...I don't know. The kind that makes him say 'Yes, Ma'am!' and motivates him to keep his room clean."

Seriously. As if there is anything else to know.

(The selfish part of me is eagerly awaiting the lesson in wax on, wax off. My car is in desperate need of a little TLC).

My Son, The Dancing King.

2011-04-20T09:22:00.007-05:00

My kids often say and do things that get me to chuckling, but I usually know it's blog-worthy when after several days I still find myself erupting in laughter at completely random (and sometimes inappropriate) times of day.

Every morning at school, Wyatt creates a journal entry at the writing center usually consisting of drawings of his latest shenanigans, like what he did over Spring Break, or his favorite animal. On February 17th, his teacher asked the kids to draw a picture demonstrating what they would do if they were King. Rather than implement a NO BEDTIME policy for children--like most kids his age might be inclined to do--Wyatt decided being King called for much more drastic measures. Like dancing.

"If I was the king, I would dance like a baby."

It's usually at a stop light when the image of this drawing, coupled with this famous dancing baby video, gets me into hysterics. Needless to say, I've received quite a few strange looks this week. Thank you, Wyatt. It's totally your fault if your friends think your mom is a weirdo.

Josie's Homecoming!

2011-03-27T21:53:00.006-05:00

It's not every day a five-year-old boy has the best day of his life. In fact, it's only happened to Wyatt once. And that day was today, when we brought home our first family pet--a rambunctious yellow lab pup who will (hopefully someday soon) answer to the name of Josie. Seven hours into the new living arrangement, however, I wouldn't be surprised if she thinks her name is "NO!"

But she's a cute little rascal, if I do say so myself.

And Josie's not bad either.

All I can really say right now is so far so good. We gave the kids one responsibility for the day, which was to wear her out.

Mission accomplished. And it only took about one hour.

If only they took to cleaning their rooms as seriously...

Soon thereafter, Josie was pretty much begging for sleep.

And that's what she's been doing since.

Let's hope it continues the rest of the night.

Personally, I'm a bit surprised just how much she's grown on me so far. She even pooped on my floor and I didn't threaten to send her back. If it had been one of the kids, they'd have been a goner for sure.

We're happy to have her with us and looking forward to the joy she'll bring to our family. Once she stops pooping on my floor.

Welcome, Josie Sugarplum Cupcake Sprinkles Edgar!

(We'll just call her Josie, for short).

Cash Family UPDATE

2011-03-17T07:47:00.003-05:00

Great news!

I just recently got word that the Cash family is currently en route from Japan to the United States. Thanks to all of the Sipping Chardonnay readers who reached into their pockets to help this family. I know they are grateful beyond words.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Please Help!

2011-03-15T16:13:00.006-05:00

Ever since the earthquake unleashed its fury on Japan this week, I've been trying to wrap my mind around the magnitude of such a catastrophic event. How desperate families must feel to find loved ones who are missing. How devastating it must be to see that your home--neighborhood, community, entire city--has been washed out to sea, along with precious family mementos and a lifetime of memories held within its walls. My heart hurts for those affected. And those trying desperately to escape any further devastation that may still befall upon that region.

I'll be honest, I'd be flipping out if I had my children in Japan right now. With so much instability in the area, it would be so hard to determine how to best protect them. Do we stay? Do we flee? Those are decisions I feel most grateful that I am not forced to make right now. But unfortunately, I know of someone who does. And her family could really use your help.

I graduated high school with Lisa. She lives in Japan with her husband and 4 young children. They're trying desperately to get back on US soil. But it's going to cost more than $12,000.

I urge you to consider making a tax-deductible donation at www.breakingborders.com via Paypal or donate directly through Paypal to cashclan@gmail.com to help get this family back home safely.

Other posts about the Cash family can be viewed here, and here.

So doggone adorable.

2011-03-07T12:29:00.005-06:00

Yesterday, we drove 2.5 hours to the small town of Kingfisher, OK to see for the first time the litter of pups from which we will choose our Josie, the little whippersnapper who will take up residence with us for the next--oh, good lord--decade or more.

If you think I sound pessimistic about all of this, you're right. But the idea of having a dog has really started to grow on me over the past month. Pretty much, I'm just all talk at this point. Especially once I held these little rambunctious balls of fur in my arms. And there was absolutely no question in Wyatt's mind. They were ALL coming home with us.

Dogs simply adore Wyatt, and the feeling is quite mutual. It makes me happy knowing he'll finally have a dog of his very own, rather than be forced to bond with all of the neighbor dogs through a chain-linked fence.

Avery loved it when they all chased her, but I think she has mixed feelings about doggy kisses.
Better her than me.

Wyatt, on the other hand, welcomed all the interaction he could get. Heck, the puppy could've peed on him and he would've found it funny! I remember a time as a child when I witnessed a friend's mom share a bowl of ice cream with her dog, even eating from the same spoon. Wyatt could totally be that kid. But he won't be. Not if I have anything to do with it.

So, which one will she be? Which one will take on the name of Josie Sprinkles Cupcake Sugarplum Edgar?

Well, we still have three more weeks to decide. But I think we've got it pretty well narrowed down to one of these two.

And if Eric gets his say, it will be this one.

This is what I say. Mama may need a lot of neck rubs and sweet nothings whispered in her ear between now and then. Cause she likes the other one.

Take a picture. It'll last longer.

2011-03-04T12:53:00.004-06:00

Right you are, Pee Wee Herman.

Right. You. Are.

I found these lovely wall decals online. I love shopping online. It's so much more time efficient, and I can often score some really unique stuff. One major disadvantage when shopping online, however, is that you can't actually hold the item in your hands--to make sure it's the right size, color, and texture. And most importantly in this case, you don't get to read the fine print. Like, "may not work on heavily textured surfaces."

Well, poop.

I could've sent them back. I should've sent them back. But the optimist in me couldn't send them back. And right now, I'm still holding my breath and crossing my fingers that they'll stay put. But the realist in me has cautioned me not to be surprised if I walk in tomorrow morning and find them in one crumpled heap on the floor.

Regardless of the outcome, I'll at least have a photo of what they once were and what they could've been should we not have had such "heavily textured" walls.

Looks like I may be headed back to the drawing board.

Grody.

2011-03-02T08:48:00.003-06:00

After several discussions and failed attempts to get Avery to understand why we don't pick our nose or eat our boogers, Wyatt finally decided to offer up a little tidbit of advice.

"Avery, just do what I do. Wipe your boogers on the carpet and Mommy will never know."

Ahhh! Boys are awesome. Other mothers beware. Your child may too be this awesome.

Life is about to get a little more interesting.

2011-02-08T09:49:00.007-06:00

Just when I thought our family was complete...

Just when I thought poop detail was a thing of the past...

Just when I thought my wardrobe was no longer in danger of being contaminated by the bodily fluids of others...

We decide to get a pet. But not just any pet. A dog. A big dog. One that will inevitably shed hair all over my new furniture, scratch up my new hardwood floors, and sniff the crotch of every guest who walks through our door. Needless to say, while I have finally given my consent to welcoming a family pet into our home, it was a decision made with a great deal of trepidation. Until yesterday.

Until yesterday, it was just a dog. An extra mouth to feed. Another body to bathe. A boundless ball of energy to add to the already chaotic state of our household. I've been exhausted just thinking about all of the responsibilities that come with having a pet. And the fact that our new canine friend will never-- I repeat, NEVER-- learn to use the toilet. Meaning poop detail is long from being a thing of the past for yours truly.

Then, we got the news that Sugar Bear had delivered her pups.

And everything changed.

Wyatt: "Mommy, I want them ALL!"

Today I see a brand new life. An emerging personality. One that will completely change the dynamic of our household for years to come. Today I see a best friend for Wyatt and Avery, a hunting companion for Eric, and a running partner for me. Yes, somewhere in that heaping pile of yapping pups is our Josie.

It's going to be hard work, I know. This is brand new territory for us. But some of the greatest things in life aren't met with ease, I suppose. It's going to be an exciting journey, and who knows, it may just inspire me to invent the world's first doggy toilet. Or personalized poop scoops for the kids.

Stay tuned for Josie's debut sometime in late March.

"It's just the most amazing thing to love a dog, isn't it? It makes our relationships with people seem as boring as a bowl of oatmeal." John Grogan, Marley & Me.

Not Quitting My Day Job Just Yet.

2011-01-29T14:00:00.000-06:00

Words cannot express how much I love these shelves from Pottery Barn.

Words can express, however, how much I don't love the price. I'm not sure I could ever justify spending $59 PER SHELF!

But Ana White has provided very detailed step-by-step instructions on how I can build these shelves myself at only a fraction of the cost.

SOLD! to the woman who still has over 80% of her home to furnish and decorate on her husband's dime.

I need a job.

But I'll settle for a saw. And some wood. Along with a few nails and some paint. I mean, my dad was a carpenter, and so was Jesus. If they could do it, then so can I. Right? Right!

So, let the fun begin!

I must admit, the hardest part of this project was taking the first step. Into the lumber section. It's like walking into the men's restroom by mistake. You immediately know you're in the wrong place. No fancy displays, a staleness (to put it politely) in the air. I wanted to hightail it back to the kitchen aisle and ooh and aah over countertops. But I resisted the temptation, pulled up my bootstraps, and found what I needed. Then I walked over to a couple of guys wearing bright orange vests and worked up the courage to ask if they performed complimentary cuts. One of them made a joke I didn't get before finally answering that yes they did, in fact, make complimentary cuts.

Good. Now here's my list. And make it snappy so I can stop holding my breath.

I fully expected to have the project completed in two days. A grave underestimation on my part. I realized very quickly that it wasn't as easy as making a few rounded cuts and nailing some boards together. And it certainly didn't help that I chose some of the most frigid days of the winter to be working in the garage.

The secret to successful woodworking lies in the carpenter's pencil.
Worth every penny. All 14 of them.

After a few weeks of sanding, priming, sanding, painting, then applying additional coats and finally a topcoat, I finished two Vivacious Pink wall shelves for Avery's bedroom.

They are not Pottery Barn perfect by any means. In fact, it's taking nearly every ounce of restraint I have in my body to not point out every flaw, which to me, stand out like sore thumbs. Nevertheless, I'm pretty sure I have one very satisfied customer on my hands and that's a pretty good measure of success in my book.

Now this doesn't mean I'm already chomping at the bit to complete another project. I haven't quite decided if the money saved is worth all of the extra work. But if I do embark on another woodworking debacle (I mean "adventure")--say, this lovely little dollhouse bookcase--then I will definitely apply the following lessons I learned from this one.

1. I'm probably better off making my own preliminary cuts. That way, when the boards end up a whole 1/2 inch too short, I'll have only myself at which to be mad instead of the guy in the bright orange vest who apparently gets paid to do it.

2. Driving a nail straight is much harder than it looks and requires much more planning and precision than I put into it.

3. Due to the reasons mentioned above, the power of wood filler should never be underestimated.

Mommy's New Toy

2011-01-06T17:04:00.004-06:00

I have a saw, and I'm not afraid to use it.

Once I figure out how.

Stay tuned for Woodworking Project Numero Uno....

(I know, I know. About as much suspense as a season finale cliffhanger. But I really do need to read the manual. Trust me, it will totally be worth the wait. Fingers crossed. And hopefully still intact).

Oh, Sun. How I've missed thee.

2010-12-11T05:10:00.003-06:00

John Denver articulated perfectly my relationship with the sun when he wrote Sunshine On My Shoulders. The sun, when it rises, symbolizes for me a new beginning--an opportunity to start each day with a fresh outlook and a clear mind. While the setting sun allows me to reflect on yet another glorious day I've been granted on this earth, to watch my kids grow, to reminisce and laugh hysterically with old friends, or to relish in some of life's simple pleasures, like home-brewed coffee with Belgian Chocolate Toffee creamer (thank you, Coffee-Mate).

The sun was what I missed most about Oklahoma during our 5-year stint in the Pacific Northwest (second to, err, family...of course), where the sun lies dormant behind clouds of gray eight months out of the year. It's no wonder we were ready to get back to The Plains and into a house on a ridge looking as far west as they eye can see, never again to miss opportunities like these to watch the sun perform its magic over the skies.

Last night's view from our living room

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high

If I had a day that I could give you
I'd give to you the day just like today
If I had a song that I could sing for you
I'd sing a song to make you feel this way

~John Denver, Sunshine On My Shoulders

Boomer Sooner!

2010-12-10T20:21:00.001-06:00

Headed to Norman for our first OU home game in 6 years.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2010-11-26T08:01:00.003-06:00

We hosted our first Thanksgiving feast in our new home yesterday, and it was such a treat! Eric served up his famous grilled turkey while I whipped up a few masterpieces of my own. And Avery and I teamed up to bake the most scrumptious mini-tartlets known to man. And Wyatt? Well, he was just happy to serve as the official taste-tester. It's a pretty tough job, but I guess someone has to do it.

Avery has turned into quite the little baker this holiday season, so much that the step stool has nearly become a permanent fixture in our kitchen. Now, if I could just get her to actually sample some of her culinary masterpieces, I'd be in hog heaven.

We're gearing up for Round 2 with my family this afternoon and really wishing I hadn't donated my fat pants to charity.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Falling in love, with Fall.

2010-11-03T08:49:00.008-05:00

Crisp mornings. An early dusk. Falling leaves rustling in the autumn breeze.

Fall has officially made an appearance. As have the bulky jackets and close-toed shoes. It won't be long before the joyful melodies of Christmas permeate our homes, cars, and shopping malls. Aaahh, I simply adore this time of year. The anticipation of it all just makes my heart flutter in delight.

It's been a busy few months for our family. Not only have we been trying to adjust to living in a small town (where it's nearly impossible to find a good cup of coffee, a place to stop in and have a beer, or simply sit down and enjoy a nice meal), but our kids have also been very hard at work training for The Okie Games.

Because you're not a true Okie until you can inhale a doughnut suspended in mid-air without the use of your hands.

"Hmmm...this is going to be tricky.
Perhaps I should go about this from a different angle."

"C'mon you little piece of sugary goodness.
Go to your home!!"
(I love how you can see the desperation in his hands
as he grips the beam with all of his might.)

"There. Now we're getting somewhere."

Wyatt showed the doughnut who was boss.
One step closer to achieving Okie status.

And only a true Okie can come up with a cowboy or cowgirl costume at a moment's notice.

No problem for this girl.

But her brother could use a little help.

Football player meets Woody from Toy Story.
Big time FAIL.

Most impressive, however, is Wyatt's ability to spit pumpkin seeds. He's quite a natural.

Okie's are serious about pumpkin-seed spitting. Check out the little girl behind Wyatt eyeing her competition. Don't think for a second she didn't end up spitting her seeds clear across the room. She's born and bred, by golly. We have a lot of catching up to do.

But trust me, life hasn't been all work and no play. We've definitely had our share of dance parties,

field trips to the pumpkin patch,

and fall carnivals with the cousins.

I don't see life slowing down any time soon for us, but one thing is certain. There will never be a dull moment with this much sweet,

and this much spice,

living under the same roof.

Wyatt's "Fairy" Special Visitor

2010-10-23T08:12:00.008-05:00

Since Wednesday, I've spent every waking hour with the kids because they're out of school on fall break--a break obviously intended for the teachers (which they absolutely deserve, I might add) because it seems as though the only "break" we're experiencing around our house is of the mental variety. You know, the kind which usually involves a lot of "Mommy, he's looking at me!", "Mommy, she's bothering me!", and "Mommy, I had it first!" Needless to say, Mommy has no hair left on her head.

Fortunately, however, I had a small window of opportunity to meet an old friend for dinner last night, when after being gone for only an hour (an HOUR!) I received this photo message from Eric:

Wyatt had lost his first tooth. And I missed it. Dagnabit!

But I heard all about it bright and early this morning as I awoke before 6AM to a tap, tap, tapping on my shoulder and a gleeful Wyatt sporting his toothless grin and the loot he scored from the Tooth Fairy. Let me tell ya, this boy is on top of the world right now.

He's most excited about joining the ranks of the three other kids in his class who have lost teeth, even though he still says he needs to lose one more if he wants to be up there with one of his class buddies. Ugh...the life of an Edgar. Always competitive. Never satisfied.

Each day seems to bring Wyatt closer and closer to achieving the big boy status he so desperately desires. He recently celebrated his fifth birthday, got to ride the school bus for the very first time, and his world is expanding exponentially before his very eyes as he learns that every letter makes a sound. My boy is definitely not a baby anymore. It's at this time I'd like to politely put in my request for time to stand still. I don't think I'm ready for all of this quite yet.

And as he was flashing around the dollar bills the Tooth Fairy so generously left him under his pillow, he expressed disappointment in not being able to see her in person so he could thank her for leaving him the money. Then he proceeded to give one away to his sister. Then my heart turned to mush.

He is indeed my sweet little toothless boy.

Well, it's official. We're all grown up.

2010-10-04T13:21:00.006-05:00

The day after Eric turned thirty-two, he started his first real job. One month later, only a few days after we celebrated seven years of marriage, we became first-time homeowners. Here we are two weeks later, and I've come to one very exhausting conclusion.

Being a grown up is really hard work.

It means giving up blogging and facebooking for washing windows and scrubbing floors.

It means waking up at the crack of dawn to get myself together, breakfast made, kids clothed, and out the door by 7:30. Every. Single. Morning.

(I can hear my Portland friends gasping in disbelief. Yes friends, it's true. I've applied make-up and have even fixed my hair almost every single day since we've been home. My husband hardly recognizes me.)

It also means, sadly, that sometimes you have to get ugly with people if you want to get anything accomplished. Just ask our mortgage broker.

Even so, being a grown up has some really awesome perks. REALLY awesome. And hopefully this time next year all of the sacrifices we've made over the past 10 years will simply be a memory. But right now, we're staying busy playing catch up. And enjoying life in small town America.

Where everyone knows your name, and your grandma's name, and even what you ate for breakfast that morning (you get my drift).

It's quite an adjustment from living in Portland, where I was just another face in a big city. I've run into old classmates, old teachers, and even the same old charming lady working the desk at the dry cleaners. But I couldn't be happier. Wyatt is (gasp!) actually excelling in school, making so many friends, and scoring goals on the soccer field (even if they are for the opposing team). He is no longer referred to as The Puncher!, as I overheard a little girl last year tell her father. He's proud of his class, respectful to his classmates, and eager to share with us what he learns in school each day. Right now, it's the Pledge of Allegiance. I've never been more proud of him.

Avery has started dance, and I'm actually quite surprised by how much she loves it. She's a little anxious at school still, but certainly improving as she learns to adjust to being out from underneath the shadow of her outgoing big brother, who has happily led all of her social interactions with other kids up to this point.

We're happy to finally be getting settled and excited to welcome the fall season (and all of the colds, allergies, and stomach bugs which seem to accompany it). Pumpkin bread, football games, and my first experience with DVR. Bring it on!

By the way, you can click this link to if you're interested in seeing pics of the new house!

I've Come Full Circle.

2010-08-29T12:22:00.004-05:00

Last week, Wyatt and Avery followed in their mother's footsteps and began their school careers as Sandites. What is a Sandite, you might ask? Excellent question.

According to Wikipedia:

A Sandite is the name of the mascot for Charles Page High School in Sand Springs, OK

In other words, no one really knows. We are defined only by...ourselves. But hey, it makes us unique.

Nevertheless, I was proud to be a Sandite back in what my kids probably consider the Ice Age (were the 90's really that long ago?), and I'm proud to be one now...again...after 14 years of hardly stepping foot inside the city limits. There was a time, when we moved from the Sooner State, when I was certain my days as an Okie were over. Yet I've somehow managed to find myself returning not just to Oklahoma, but to the very podunk town in which I grew up. How's that for coming full circle?

The kids are three days into the school year and off to a great start. They love their teachers, are making new friends, and trying to wrap their little minds around the fact that it's still dark when they wake up in the mornings. "This, " I tell them, "is why they invented coffee."

Soon, the juggling act between dance and soccer will commence followed quickly by a frazzled mom running around town like a chicken with her head cut off (Let's just say multi-tasking is not one of my God-given talents), but I can say with absolute certainty that I'm happy to be home, in a community I love, and putting down roots for my children. I think it's going to be a REALLY great year!

First day of Pre-K

First day of preschool

I've emerged.

2010-08-16T21:58:00.000-05:00

Well, hello there.

Yes, this is indeed the long-lost author of this blog.

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, even though some days I feel like I'm hanging on by only a thread. I wish I could say we've been busy getting settled into our new home, but in reality, we've been doing a whole lot of nothing--more like finger-tapping, sighing, and eye-rolling--while we patiently await the moment our builder finally decides to light a fire under his rear and finish the darn thing.

In the meantime, the grandparents are making up for lost time (as if they had a choice) while we continue to completely overtake their home, one square foot at a time. Fortunately, God made them to be very loving, giving, and patient beings because LORD HELP ME if my children (and their families) are living with me when they're in their thirties. Haha! Eric's parents are saints and should be rewarded accordingly.

Overall, we're very happy to be home again, celebrating birthdays with family and happy hours with old friends. But one thing I realized rather quickly upon our arrival is that the state of Oregon turned me into one of the worst old-lady drivers ever. The past five years, I've grown accustomed to driving 40 mph on the interstate . Surprisingly, Oregon drivers are among the slowest I've ever encountered. Try driving that speed on an Oklahoma interstate and you'll seriously get demolished.

Okies are impatient and always seem to be in such a hurry to get, well, nowhere. In the last month, I've been cut off, flipped off, and my rear-end ridden more times than a polk-a-dot pony at a county fair. Where's the southern hospitality? Needless to say, my hands have been glued to 10 and 2 while poking along at 65 mph in the slow lane. But it's not just the Oklahoma drivers who scare the bejesus out of me. I'm afraid my poor little pitiful Passat may not withstand the daily beatings administered by the numerous potholes littering every single road and highway in the metropolitan area. At some point, something's gotta give. And knowing my luck, it will probably be my transmission. And that's no joke.

That's it! Maybe I just need one of those fancy Cadillac Escalades that practically glide over the asphalt. That'll do the trick. (Unfortunately, a bug THAT big will not quite fit in the ear of my Chevy-driving husband...but it never hurts to try.)

But anyway, the whole reason for this post (other than just to let ya'll know I'm still alive) was to share some of the astounding photos Eric captured of the sights we saw on our two-week road trip through Oregon, California, Nevada, Arizona, and New Mexico. I'm always amazed by his talent and wanted to dazzle you with just a few of my favorites from our trip.

A stunted Jeffrey Pine on Beetle Rock

Wildflowers at the base of a giant sequoia

Folded sandstone and yucca plant in Kings Canyon

General Sherman
The world's largest tree

Home Sweet Home

2010-07-16T23:08:00.001-05:00

I wonder if it's too soon to drop them off for the weekend.

Final destination: Broken Arrow, OK

Priceless

2010-07-16T16:12:00.001-05:00

"Hey Wyatt. We just crossed the Oklahoma border!"

Holy Humidity!

2010-07-16T16:08:00.001-05:00

Yep, we're definitely in Oklahoma.

Day 13...

2010-07-16T09:56:00.001-05:00

...on the road with a 3 and 4 year old.

Must refuel.

Albuquerque, NM

Dam, that's impressive.

2010-07-15T14:17:00.001-05:00

My first time to cross Hoover Dam.

You can see the newly constructed bridge in the background. Also very impressive.

Nevada/Arizona

Fun at Circus Circus

2010-07-15T01:15:00.000-05:00

Las Vegas, NV

Vegas, Baby!

2010-07-14T14:32:00.001-05:00

Sunset from our campsite

2010-07-13T15:21:00.004-05:00

Sequoia National Park, CA

Tunnel Log

2010-07-13T15:21:00.003-05:00

Leaving Sequoia National Park.

If we're lucky, we may just make it out of CA today.

Whoa!!! That's a really big tree!

2010-07-13T15:21:00.001-05:00

General Grant
Second largest tree in the world

Sequoia National Park, CA

Long night in the ghetto

2010-07-11T11:15:00.001-05:00

Apparently, we picked the bad part of Fresno (still not sure if there is a good part) in which to stay last night.

During our very short stay, we witnessed an arrest, what I think were a few drug deals, and an unfortunate number of women in heels longer than their mini skirts.

Let's just say we were thrilled to pieces when we found our car completely intact this morning.

California fresh fruit

2010-07-10T15:27:00.001-05:00

Nothing like it.

Dinner at Sierra Nevada Brewing Co.

2010-07-09T22:41:00.003-05:00

Contrary to what this photo may suggest, they don't actually serve beer to minors.

Chico, CA

Refreshed

2010-07-09T22:41:00.001-05:00

We've been camping 5 of the last 6 nights.

Suddenly Motel 6 feels like a five star establishment.

Chico, CA

Ewww....GROSS!!!

2010-07-09T16:50:00.001-05:00

The stinky boiling mud pot.

Lassen Volcanic National Park, CA

Little Explorers

2010-07-09T16:10:00.001-05:00

Still enjoying Lassen Volcanic National Park, CA

Junior Ranger

2010-07-08T15:17:00.001-05:00

Lassen Volcanic National Park, CA

If you eat a good lunch...

2010-07-07T14:48:00.001-05:00

...we can go to Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory!

(Yes, eating one whole carrot is a good lunch in our family)

Ashland, Oregon

AAA...Never leave home without it.

2010-07-07T14:05:00.001-05:00

Our fifth day on the road, our first call for help.

Funny how those pesky car keys make their way into the trunk.

Medford, Oregon

Conehead

2010-07-06T16:17:00.001-05:00

Oversized pinecones on 8-dollar Mountain

First accident of the trip

2010-07-06T14:59:00.001-05:00

I knew that first aid kit would come in handy.

Leave it to the oldest child of the family to need it first.

Bike wreck at Oregon Caves National Monument.

More coping...

2010-07-06T13:55:00.001-05:00

Wine before coffee.

Anything goes when you're on vacation, I guess.

Foris Winery
Holland, Oregon

As peas are to a pod...

2010-07-06T12:20:00.001-05:00

...Wild River Nut Brown Ale is to a roasted marshmallow.

DeLISH!!!

Ahhhhh!

2010-07-05T17:38:00.001-05:00

Mommy's coping mechanism when traveling with small children.

Cave Junction, Oregon

Making friends along the way

2010-07-05T15:19:00.001-05:00

Feeding the gulls at Harris Beach State Park.

Just north of CA state line

At least it's not raining...

2010-07-04T22:44:00.000-05:00

55 degrees with 25 mph winds

Our last 4th in fleece.

The Road Trip Has Commenced!

2010-07-04T11:05:00.000-05:00

Well, we've survived our first 24 hours of being homeless and jobless. But hey, at least we're at the beach! We plan to enjoy the 4th of July festivities in the little southern coastal town of Bandon, Oregon before heading to Oregon Caves National Monument tomorrow.

The move went well, considering we had more junk than we could cram into our POD. Fortunately the guys at 1-800-GOT JUNK were able to come to our rescue in only a moments notice. So I had to say goodbye (and good riddance) to that dining room table I loved so much that was nearly falling apart, and all of our 15-year-old cookware with cracks and chips in them. I'm sorry to say I was thrilled to see them go! Of everyone, Wyatt took the move the hardest. He sobbed over his trains (that he never plays with anymore) as our POD departed the driveway.

I hope to get the hang of this whole mobile blogging concept so we can update regularly throughout our trip.

Happy Independence Day!

Portland, I'll miss you....in a WEIRD sort of way.

2010-06-29T09:57:00.000-05:00

With only 4 days left in Portland, I'm getting a little nostalgic thinking about all of the things I will miss. And some things I won't. Like how native Portlanders swing so far to the left that there's really only one word this middle-of-the-road gal can use to describe it. Weird. Portlanders are just plain weird. And they're proud of it. In fact, it's the city's motto. You don't believe me?

This phrase is plastered on buildings and adorns
about 70% of car bumpers within the city limits

As insanely liberal as Portland can be sometimes (nowhere else would you have an organized naked bike ride...click here for video proof), it has been our home for the last five years. The only home our kids have ever known. And you know what? They seem to fit right in.

But really, putting up with a little bit of weirdness is just a small price to pay for the luxury of never having to pump your own gas. For those who aren't aware, Oregon is one of only two states in which it is illegal to pump your own gas. I'm always amused by just how much I fumble around at the gas pump when I go home for a visit. Open gas tank, insert credit card, lift gas pump lever, insert nozzle and press. Sounds easy, but when you haven't done it in a while, it takes about 20 minutes just to fill up the tank.

In addition:

*I will miss our friendly neighborhood brew pub

Great food. Awesome beer. Caters to kids.

*I will miss this wonderful group of ladies I've grown to rely upon throughout residency

Post Call. Home Call. In-house Call. Overnight Call.
At any given time, at least one of our husbands is on one of them.
Tis the the life of a resident's spouse.

*I'll miss the locally brewed beer, some of the finest coffee, and the beautiful wine country.

*I'll miss living only an hour away from both the mountains and the ocean.

*And I'll miss the little chuckle I get when I drive by this dentist's office every day.

Unfortunate names. They get me every time.

What I won't miss? You guessed it. THE RAIN! It's hard driving around town 8 months out of the year with this as your view:

I'm looking forward to wearing nice shoes again.

As wet as it has been this June, we're fortunate enough to spend our last week here enjoying 70 degrees and sunshine. A little taste of heaven as we transition into what probably feels a lot like hell right now with temps in the 90's and 100's.

At least we'll have air conditioning.

Happy Birthday to Avery!

2010-06-25T08:53:00.000-05:00

My baby girl turned three on Tuesday.

The third birthday is one of my favorites. It's the first birthday in which it all clicks. They finally understand that the cake, balloons, and frequent visits from the UPS truck are all for them, to celebrate how special they are. Three years old is also when the world seems to open up for them. They finally get to go to school, participate in activities independent of their parents, play with toys that have small parts, and due to burgeoning attention spans, are able to enjoy some of the finer things in life, like a full-length motion picture at the movie theater complete with popcorn and candy.

Three. It rocks.

Avery's birthday was full of excitement and a slew of firsts, including her first date.

With Dad.

Like most girls getting ready for a first date, she primped in front of the mirror making sure her piggy tails were perfectly symmetrical, went through several wardrobe changes, polished off her look with a dab of Hello Kitty lip balm, then greeted her beau only a very fashionable five minutes late. Then off to Build-A-Bear they went.

Meet Tippy (a.k.a. Tips, Tippers),
the newest addition to Avery's snuggle buddy clan.
Yes, the dog has purple flip flops.

Avery also started Vacation Bible School on her birthday. The age requirement is three years old, so we made it in just under the wire. She was so excited and felt like such a big girl. Wyatt was a little disappointed, however, that she had to be in the Green Turtle group. He wanted her to be with him along with the rest of the Red Rabbits. He's such a sweet brother.

And when you're three in our house, nail polish becomes an acceptable indulgence. That can of worms, my friends, has officially been opened.

Stay tuned for vibrant multi-color and glitter experiments.
It's only a matter of time.
Oy Vey!

Avery also had her first movie theater experience. As a family, we went to see Toy Story 3. I got a big bag of popcorn and a package of Junior Mints for all of us to share. Avery however wanted nothing to do with the sharing business. She was very territorial over the Avery-sized bag of popcorn. She would physically block and push away any hand that neared the bottomless pit of salty carbs. When Eric asked politely if he could have some, she replied, "Okay, Daddy. You can have one. But the rest is for me." And she said what she meant and she meant what she said (for all you Dr. Seuss fans out there).

Following a much needed little cat nap, it was time to break out the cake. It's probably no surprise what kind of cake she requested this year.

What is it about Dora that makes three-year-old little girls squeal in delight?

Given how hectic our lives are right now in preparation for our upcoming move, we elected not to have a big birthday bash this year. Rather, in typical Edgar family fashion, we just walked the neighborhood knocking on doors advertising free cake and ice cream. Voila! Instant birthday party. Those are the kind of neighbors we have, and we're going to miss them terribly.

My, how quickly the last three years have flown. Avery has been an absolute joy from the start, and she continues to bless us each and every day. And she is, and probably always will be, her brother's voice of reason. She has an ability to influence him in ways his parents cannot. I'm so anxious to see how their relationship unfolds throughout the years. I hope they stay as close as they are right now. That would be the ultimate reward.

Happy birthday my sweet girl!

Girls Weekend!

2010-06-21T12:13:00.000-05:00

Isolation. Depending on the day, it can be one of the greatest advantages or disadvantages to living so far from home.

I won't lie, sometimes it's sort of nice to be so far removed from the expectations that come along with living near family, extended family, and lifetime friends who may as well be family.

Darn it, Suzie. If I didn't live 1,600 miles away, I'd be the first one in line to see little Tommy's croaking bullfrog impersonation at the talent show. Shoot. Maybe next year.

By the same token, living so far away can be incredibly lonely. It's hard to live in a city where everyone is a stranger. No familiar faces at the gym, no run-ins with acquaintances at the grocery store, no re-hashing of old college stories over lunch, and no family gatherings during the holidays. More often than not, for me (can't speak for those in my house with a Y chromosome), the disadvantages of living across the country sadly outweigh the advantages.

So it's always refreshing when a little bit of home shows up on my doorstep. In come Michelle and Rachel...all the way from Oklahoma and Utah (Okay, so Utah isn't exactly home--in fact, I've never even stepped foot in the state--but Tulsa is where Rachel lived when we met. So that counts, right?). Four days in Portland with two great girls and a barrel of laughs. What more could a homesick girl ask for?

How about doughnuts?

Portland's infamous Voodoo Doughnuts

(Don't try to adjust your screen, that is indeed bacon you see on that maple bar)

Cupcakes, maybe?

Three words. Toasted Coconut Cream.

Hmm...well how about playing a little dress up?

Hats. Portland's hottest selling accessory.

And if you didn't think a girl could ask for more, think again.

Road trip, anyone? Facials?

Cannon Beach, here we come!

One thing for which I certainly couldn't ask for more was better company. We had such a great time, and it meant so much that my friends took time away from their own families and work schedules to spend a little time with little 'ol me and take in some of the Oregon sights. I'm looking forward to returning the favor one day. Who wouldn't love a grand tour of mountainous Utah?

Not to invite myself or anything...

Getting It Right. Sometimes.

2010-06-15T23:54:00.000-05:00

Before I became a parent, I had the whole parenting thing figured out.

(Don't we all.)

My kids weren't going to live on chicken nuggets and apple juice. FAIL.

My kids would know better than to throw tantrums in the middle of the grocery store...or on an airplane. FAIL.

There would be no bargaining. My kids would know who's boss and never question my authority. FAIL.

Needless to say, my book on parental expectations has had to be rewritten a few different occasions over the past 4 1/2 years. It's such a humbling experience at times, this whole parenting thing. And a great reminder that we, as humans, are imperfect beings. We can't get it right all of the time, and frankly, there are some things which are simply out of our control. And it's okay. All we can do is pick up and move on with a plan for how to do it differently the next time.

But there are times--yes, they do exist--when the seeds we plant in our children start to bear some of the sweetest, most satisfying fruit ever to have been cultivated. And it's during these moments when we receive confirmation that, shockingly, our kids really are listening to our words and observing our actions.

Just last week, I overheard Avery playing House with her baby doll. She slipped on her high-heeled dress up shoes, threw her purse over her shoulder and told her baby that she'd be back soon. She had to go exercise so she could be healthy.

My heart just melted.

It's no secret how much we value health and fitness in our family. We try to impress upon our kids through our own actions just how important it is to live a healthy lifestyle. To know that our two-year-old "gets it" makes me feel as though we're doing at least one thing right!

Then, a couple of days following that particular incident, Wyatt shocked us when he climbed a very strenuous 1,600 feet to the summit of Saddle Mountain....

(photo courtesy of The Oregonian)

...and then back down again.

ALL. BY. HIMSELF!

Along the trail, we kept introducing him to other hikers as our 4-year-old Master Hiker, to which he would get embarrassed and scoff, "Ugh! Four-year-olds are NOT Master Hikers!" Oh, but this one is.

We showed that mountain who was boss...Venom style.

Avery, on the other hand, apparently talks the talk but doesn't necessarily walk the walk. She preferred riding piggy-back the entire way while reciting Dora the Explorer.

Vamanos, Amigo! Rapido! Rapido!
(click to enlarge)

Wyatt had no comprehension whatsoever the magnitude of what he had accomplished that day. But we did. As a reward for conquering a feat eluding even some the most well-intentioned grown-ups, we told Wyatt he earned himself whatever treat his little heart desired. We expected him to request a big scoop of chocolate ice cream because, well, that's his favorite. Instead, he insisted that his reward be nothing less than one single ginormous gummy bear.

Doh!

I suppose we should have prefaced the deal by saying it had to be something that actually existed.

FAIL.

School's Out!

2010-06-08T19:20:00.000-05:00

Well we survived our first year of preschool. And I say "we" because it truly was as much of a learning experience for me as it was for Wyatt. I learned that getting the kids out of bed, dressed, fed, and out the door by 8:45 two mornings per week could sometimes prove to be an insurmountable task. I cannot even begin to imagine how we'll manage when the tardy bell rings at 8:05 every. single. day. Lord, help me now.

I also learned that the process of selecting the "right" school for my child in the beginning was only half the battle. Keeping him from getting kicked out of it was a completely different challenge all together. Needless to say, Wyatt went through a few rough patches over the course of the year. But together, we triumphed. And finally, by the last month of the school year, we seemed to have it all figured out. Naturally.

Next year, he'll be in a new school with a new teacher and new friends. I think we're both excited for a fresh start. I just hope his new teacher, whomever she may be, is enjoying her summer because next fall, Hurricane Wyatt's coming to town. Bless her little preschool lovin' heart.

On the last day of school this year, his teacher presented each parent with an envelope containing pictures they had taken throughout the year. And here are a few of my favorites:

Police Officer, Pinhead
(the kid has the smallest head known to man)

I hope they were smart enough not to give this builder a saw

Playing Venom on the playground.
The ultimate cootie repellent.

Wait, I spoke too soon.
This hairdo is the ultimate cootie repellent.

Now, here's my sweet angel

Even though Wyatt can often be misunderstood, I know his heart (a mommy always does). He loves people, but what he loves most is to keep them on their toes. And boy, he's really good at what he does. He'll always be an A+ in my book.

Happy Campers

2010-06-01T22:47:00.000-05:00

You may remember a post I had written nearly two years ago entitled, Camping: One Mother's Story of Survival. The title sounds a bit horrific because the truth is, when you're camping with very young children who aren't capable of doing just about anything for themselves, it certainly has the potential to be. But speaking from experience, once the little gremlins have mastered eating solid foods (as opposed to handfuls of dirt), sleeping through the night, communicating their needs, and--most importantly--learning how to pee in the woods without soiling their clothes, camping as a family can be quite fun...and educational.

To demonstrate, here is our future bird nerd learning how to spot a Bullock's Oriole in a tree during our most recent camping adventure to Eastern Oregon.

Lesson 1: It might help to turn your binoculars right side up. Baby steps...
(But hey, at least her shoes are on the right feet. That's a miracle in and of itself.)

And Wyatt learned soon after setting up camp of the defense mechanism lizards possess, allowing them to release their tail in an effort to avoid capture at the hands of curious 4-year-old's who would inevitably, yet unintentionally, love the little creature to death.

As you can see, he was quite proud of his prized lizard tail, but as sporadic attention spans would have it, it was just a matter of time before the scaly little tush went missing. And no, contrary to what you might be thinking, I did not toss the creepy severed appendage into the campfire.

Really. I didn't.

No, this impressive little inferno was reserved specifically for marshmallow roasting, which as it turns out, is another valuable teaching moment. What did Wyatt learn, you might ask?

That when it comes to roasting marshmallows, the blacker the better.

He called this one, The Venom Marshmallow! Naturally.

One of these days, we hope to instill in our children a certain appreciation for nature which reaches far beyond ooey gooey (or charred beyond recognition) marshmallows and wigwam sleeping. We'll get there eventually, I'm sure. But for now, they're just learning the basics.

Like how glow sticks are da bomb!!

The Painted Hills of Eastern Oregon

2010-05-27T22:49:00.000-05:00

When most people think of Eastern Oregon, they think desert. That's because, well, it is. And while some are able to appreciate the unique characteristics of an arid landscape--very fragrant sagebrush, the SUN!, or (gasp!) the overabundant reptile population (eeek! ewww!)--most people who live in The Valley, I suspect, don't really find the value in leaving the recreational mecca of Portland to travel 5 to 6 hours by car only to end up in a land comparatively deficient of moisture and vegetation. Even when they know one of Oregon's most fascinating geological masterpieces can be found there.

These, my friends, are The Painted Hills of Eastern Oregon--an impressive 3,000-acre stretch of colorful layers situated within the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument. The entire area was an ancient floodplain, and the different types of matter deposited there over time are what gives it such diverse and highly saturated coloring.

Totally. Worth. The Drive.

Vibrant yellow flowers growing in the crevices

Wyatt and Avery running up and down the boardwalk of one of the trails

Trying to catch a lizard
(Notice how Avery is interested yet remains cautious
behind the protective shield of the trail sign. Love that girl.)

We spent the weekend exploring the monument, camping amongst snakes, lizards, and feral pigs (thank God we didn't actually see one of those!), and getting to know the townsfolk of the neighboring communities. Apparently it's common practice for the overall-wearing, axe-carrying, Paul Bunyan lookalike owner of the local mercantile to make female customers follow him out to the field behind the store to gather their own firewood and haul it back by themselves. Good to know, right? My heart was racing a million miles a minute. Oh, and did I mention his two ginormous rottweilers were sniffing my crotch the entire time I had my arms full of firewood? Oh yeah. I thought I was a goner.

Damn dogs.

Grasshead Harry

2010-05-24T18:04:00.000-05:00

Grasshead Harry. Sort of sounds like a name for a rock band.

Or, in our case, a preschool horticulture project.

Meet Harry.

He came to us as bald as a newborn baby about 3 weeks ago, and we have since been diligently watering, checking for progress, watering, and checking for progress.

And...Nothin'.

I feared Wyatt had, in typical Wyatt fashion, picked the dud head. Then one day, surprisingly, Harry sprouted his first bright green blade of grassy hair. Two days later, he had enough to braid into pigtails (Oh trust me, I've been so tempted).

We've grown quite fond of Grasshead Harry over the past few weeks. I'm nostalgically reminded of a time during my childhood when all I ever wanted in life was my very own Chia Pet.

I never got one.

Needless to say, Harry and I have a special bond. It's going to be really hard to chuck him into the garbage in a few days.

(If you're interested in making a Grasshead Harry of your very own, you can find instructions here.)

*********************

Oh, and for any fellow Chia followers out there, you'll be excited to learn about the new ObamaChia.

Hurry and get your own, while supplies last.

Marvel!! Give me back my son!

2010-05-19T11:42:00.000-05:00

When Wyatt discovers a new interest, he becomes obsessed. He fixates on that one thing for weeks (even months) on end, leaving no room for other hobbies or activities. It all started with Thomas the Tank Engine, then it switched to Batman, then Spiderman. Now, it's Venom; the repulsive saw-toothed arch nemesis of Spiderman.

My rebellious-natured son has disapprovingly ventured to the dark side and loves it (can't say I'm surprised). Probably because he knows his mother doesn't. I try not to make a big fuss, in hopes he'll get bored and pursue something else, but I'm not sure how much longer I can stand the ugliness.

But I do have to give the kid some credit for such a flawless Venom impersonation. It's actually quite impressive. You can tell he's spent many hours in front of the mirror perfecting his skill.

And it keeps him from getting girl cooties at school because none of them want a thing to do with him. Really...can you blame them?

I'm hoping Iron Man will pull through for me and officially dethrone the ogre villain. But if not, I'm sure we can ditch him at the Texas border en route to Oklahoma. The Bible Belt doesn't take too kindly to evil black slime.

Rockaway Beach

2010-05-14T11:49:00.000-05:00

We're getting ready to head out for the weekend, but I just wanted to post a few of my favorite shots from last weekend's outing to Rockaway Beach.

Have a wonderful weekend. We're being blessed with some amazing weather right now. Let's hope it continues.

Cheers!

Be careful, you could gain 10 lbs just reading this.

2010-05-07T20:04:00.000-05:00

Last December I read The Help.

It's an awesome read. If you haven't read it yet, you need to. Asap.

But anyway, one of the main characters--an angry, scrappy, and downright hilarious maid by the name of Minny--was famous for her caramel cakes around the town of Jackson, Mississippi in the 1960's.

Caramel cake? I thought to myself inquisitively as I read it the first time. I never knew such a delightful thing existed! Well, it did exist, and I was determined to try a bite for myself. The only problem was that if I baked an entire cake for my family, Eric would eat a microscopic sliver, the kids might share a piece, and I'd be left to devour the rest, thereby committing myself to exercising morning, noon, and night for a year just to work off the calories.

So, when The Help was selected as our April book club pick, I jumped at the chance to bake a caramel cake for all the girls. These girls.

Awww...look at all those smiling faces. I sure will miss them.
**sniff, sniff**

I searched high and low for a truly authentic southern recipe, but most of them required a cast iron skillet (you don't say) in which to cook the caramel, and the idea alone of me trying to cook with a piece of equipment like that (sheesh, they weigh like 50 lbs or something) just spelled D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R. So, any time I'm in any type of southern cooking crisis I turn to Paula Deen. You can't go wrong with Paula. In fact, her recipes should come with a "you'll gain 30 lbs in a month OR your money back" guarantee. And with 5 sticks of butter in this baby, she did not disappoint.

Holy cholesterol, Batman!

It was really a delicious cake. The frosting was a bit too sweet for me, but the cake and caramel filling were absolutely perfect. For those interested in attempting this caloric masterpiece at home, here is the recipe.

Bobby's Caramel Cake

Ingredients:
For the cake:
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, at room temperature
2 cups granulated sugar
4 eggs
3 cups sifted self-rising flour
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
For the filling:
1 cup (2 sticks) butter
2 cups packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
For the frosting:
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1 cup packed dark brown sugar
1/3 cup heavy cream, or more if needed
1 (16-ounce) box confectioners' sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup chopped nuts, optional

Directions:

For the cake:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour 3 (9-inch) cake pans.

Using an electric mixer, cream butter until fluffy. Add granulated sugar and continue to cream well for 6 to 8 minutes. Add eggs 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Add flour and milk alternately to creamed mixture, beginning and ending with flour. Add vanilla and continue to beat until just mixed. Divide batter equally among prepared pans. Level batter in each pan by holding pan 3 or 4-inches above counter dropping it flat onto counter. Do this several times to release air bubbles and assure you of a more level cake. Bake for 25 minutes or until golden brown.

For the filling:
While cake is baking, in a saucepan, combine butter, brown sugar, and milk. Cook and stir over medium heat for 3 to 5 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla.
Remove cake layers from oven and allow cake to remain in pans as you prepare to stack and fill. Remove first layer and invert onto cake plate. Pierce cake layer with a toothpick over entire surface. Spread 1/3 of filling mixture on cake layer. Top with second layer, repeat process. Top with last layer and repeat process again.

*Cook's Note: You may want to insert dowel rods or toothpicks into the layers to prevent cake from shifting.

For the frosting:
Melt butter in a saucepan over medium heat and stir in brown sugar and cream. Bring to a boil, and transfer to a mixing bowl. Add confectioners' sugar and vanilla. Beat with a handheld electric mixer until it reaches a spreading consistency. At this time it may be necessary to add a tablespoon of heavy cream, or more, if frosting gets too thick. Just be sure to add cream is small amounts because you can always "add to", but you can't take away. Frost cake and sprinkle top with chopped nuts, if desired.

This is what Wyatt thought of his mom's first attempt at a caramel cake.

This was taken just moments before he was told he'd have to wait 24 hours before he could have a piece. The thumbs up turned into a big fat thumbs down in a hurry.

Boredom

2010-05-06T21:30:00.000-05:00

You know the saying. April showers bring May showers.

Oh, that's not it?

Well it is around here.

In the land of precipitation.

Rain, drizzle, hail, and even thundersnow (there really is such a thing). We've seen it all this Spring. Who ever would've thought precip could be so exciting?

Being cooped up indoors for so many days and weeks at a time has really taken its toll on all of us, but unfortunately, Avery has drawn the shortest end of the stick because, well, she has hair. Hair that can be played with by a mommy looking for something to do.

Besides laundry.

Voila!
I call this masterpiece, The Debacle of Braids.

I'm always looking for ways to experiment with Avery's hair, for it's truly a monstrosity with all of the random cowlicks atop her head. I thought maybe adding a little body to it would do the trick.

Cute. But not worth the effort.

Rain, Rain, Go Away.

And please don't come again another day.

For Avery's sake.

Her mother may be forced to go Pippi Longstocking on that sweet little head of hers.

Simply for the shock value

2010-05-05T22:47:00.000-05:00

Our next door reptile neighbor, Delilah

Yes, she is disgusting.

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

The Last Trimester

2010-04-17T22:45:00.000-05:00

I've decided this whole long-distance, home-building process is like having a baby.

(Now, before I start receiving hate mail from my dear friends suffering through an actual third trimester of pregnancy [Sara, I can feel your eyes burning a virtual hate stare through my body at this very moment], I must preface this entire post by saying there is really no true comparison to growing a baby in your belly. I can say with absolute certainty that I would gladly pack up and move across the country ten times in a single year than to endure another wretched last trimester of pregnancy. Seriously, Michelin Man had nothin' on me. Nothin'.)

But really, now that we've entered into the final stretch...the last 11 weeks...I'm experiencing symptoms familiar only to those in the last trimester of pregnancy: the almost pathologic need to organize, the endless days and restless nights, the moodiness, and the ceaseless anticipation of our upcoming, life-changing event. I've concluded these last couple of months in Portland, like pregnancy, will require me to work through a lot of aches and pains before unwrapping the greatly anticipated gift at the very end. I feel the need to pop a few Tums just thinking about it.

In the beginning, when we found out we were "expecting", it all seemed a little too surreal. Other than a few butterflies in the tummy, life didn't really change all that much. The land was just starting to take shape.

Constructing the retaining wall

Life went on as usual in Portland, but not without a few hiccups. We quickly realized that building a house was not as easy as a buyer and seller agreeing on a price. We had the issue of an appraisal to contend with, which felt a lot like morning sickness, but we eventually got through it and gave an exasperated sigh of relief. Meanwhile, development was still underway.

Still in the little "blob" phase, but the foundation and plumbing are perfectly intact.
Things are looking good.

Then this happened:

Then this:

Holy cow! Getting excited now. Finally starting to look like a house. We have a skeleton, folks. Nice lookin' set of bones, don't you think?

View from downstairs Living Room

View from upstairs Family Room

Cutest little backside on the block. Blush...

We can't see or touch it, but we know it's there, growing at a rapid pace. We're thankful for all of the pictures being sent to us by family and friends (and friends of friends).

Boxes are getting packed, McDonald's toys are being purged, and plans are underway for our two-week family road trip back to the Sooner State. Two weeks in the car with two kids. We have a lot of fun things planned, but if you know us, you know things can go Griswold very quickly. But don't worry, we have AAA.

It's Halloween every day at our house.

2010-04-15T17:11:00.000-05:00

Trust me, I know it's April.

But, unfortunately, my kids don't.

I'm pretty sure our new neighbors from Georgia are thinking very strange thoughts about us. It's Portland. They better get used to it.

Little Women

2010-04-08T01:04:00.000-05:00

I wish I could say my love affair with reading began many years ago, with my parents unable to peel away the latest Beverly Cleary novel clutched tightly within my youthful grasp. But honestly, I've never had much of an interest in reading, following story lines, or visualizing characters. It all seemed like too much of an investment of my time to "waste" on...well...fictitious stories.

About two years ago, I joined a book club just to get out of the house and the rest is history. I started reading a book a month and then found myself finishing books withing three days. Before I knew it I had a "to-read" list of about 40 books, including some great American classics that were supposed to have been read in high school. But c'mon. Not too many kids can get through those dozers without the help of trusty ol' cliff notes.

One such novel is Little Women. Apparently, I wrote a report on Louisa May Alcott in high school and thought for sure I must have read Little Women in order to write such a report, but I couldn't recall too many details of the story. So, in order to get my own personal credit for reading it, I decided to give it another go. About 30 pages into the story, I realized not a smidgen of it sounded the least bit familiar and that I had, embarrassingly, written my high school report based solely on cliff notes. Shame. On. Me. For Little Women is indeed a timeless classic that can (and should) be appreciated no matter the age or gender of the reader (well, the latter is a bit of an exaggeration, for I couldn't imagine too many men getting warm fuzzies over teenage girls realizing and learning to overcome their character flaws).

But anyway. The story is simple. It's long. No edge-of-your-seat moments or unexpected twists. It's just a story. A very well-told story about a family of four girls (and their saint of a mother...oh, how I long to be like Marmee) struggling with the absence of their father, serving in the Civil War. The novel is loosely based on the life of the author, Louisa May Alcott, who literally pours her true self (in all of its awkwardness) into the story's chief protagonist, Josephine (Jo) March. Each chapter contains valuable life lessons, written with poise, and directly from the heart.

But what I found most fascinating was just how progressive Alcott was in her writing. She wrote the story in the 1800's, during an era in which sexuality was greatly repressed. Yet she had the courage to write about herself (through Jo) and her own awkwardness with members of the opposite sex. She was a feminist and portrayed it boldly through her character. Considering how much we've evolved as a society since that time period, I came to my own conclusions rather quickly regarding Louisa May Alcott's true sexual orientation. Some will wholeheartedly disagree, and that is their right, but the realization that Alcott could've likely been gay became quite obvious to me early on in my reading. Writing was most likely the most effective outlet in helping her sort through her feelings of isolation. How fascinating. How bold.

Alcott herself never married. Some say she wanted her character in Little Women, Jo, to remain an old maid as well, but married her off only to appease her fans. Regardless, I adore the tenderness of this story and appreciate how applicable it is to my own life, 140 years later.

Okay. So just because I loved it doesn't mean I'll be reading it again any time soon. It was a long book that took me nearly a month to get through. But I look forward to reading and discussing this with my own daughter (I can tell you right now, Wyatt will take one look at the cover and roll his eyes at it) several years from now.

Of course, after reading the book, I had to rent the movie. For Eric, watching it was just short of torture. I tried so hard to weep silently at certain parts, but he never failed to catch me mid-sniffle. Finally, he sighed, rolled his eyes and said, "Oh my gosh. Watching movies with you is like watching The Biggest Loser." (For those who don't watch, there is an overwhelming amount of crying that goes on in that show. Eric can hardly "stomach" it [sorry, that's so, so bad of me]).

Anyway, if you've never read Little Women, and you don't have a Y chromosome, then you must read this novel. If you've read it, but it's been a while, I hope you'll consider reading it again, for you'll gain so much more perspective than you did the first time around.

The. End.

Keeping things in perspective

2010-04-05T10:46:00.000-05:00

As a girl, Easter was the holiday I looked forward to most. I understood the reason for which we celebrated, but was too young to wrap my youthful mind around the enormity of its significance on my entire existence. Mostly, it was a day to relish in the frills of pastel dresses, the snug fit of brand new tights, and shoes with heels that tapped louder than crashing cymbals as I pranced around on hardwood floors.

Yours Truly
(Many, many--too many to count--many Easters ago)

I must confess, a hint of jealously came over me yesterday when I thought of all of our friends and family enjoying such beautiful springlike weather in Oklahoma while we endured our fifth consecutive rain-soaked Easter. There are really only so many ways to dress up rubber, and I believe I've tried them all.

For girls, the secret (no big surprise) is in the accessories

For boys....well, there is no secret.
They just don't dress up--something for which this boy
in particular is especially grateful.

Needless to say, our Easter celebrations in Oregon are far from what I had grown accustomed to as a child, but I have to remind myself that a little gloom and doom doesn't detract from the true reason we celebrate, for the sacrifice Jesus made for us means eternally more than skies void of sun or shoes noisy enough to send a mother running for the Excedrin. I only hope I can adequately help my kids grow deeper in their understanding of the magnitude of such a sacrifice and the impact it will have on their own lives, both on earth and the hereafter.

We did manage to have a great time dyeing eggs though. The vast majority of them had been dropped or cracked by the time they passed through toddler hands (or clumsy mommies), but a good time was had by all. And as a result, our eggs had a lot of...umm...personality.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Easter!

Grandparents, this one's for you!

2010-04-02T12:37:00.000-05:00

I fear that if I don't get pegging away on the keyboard soon, the subtle hints regarding lack of blog activity may soon evolve into death threats by grandparents eager to stay abreast of the most recent shenanigans of certain little people occupying our house . Since it's never a good idea to upset the people you plan on hitting up for a boatload of babysitting in the foreseeable future (ah...the benefits of moving back home), I figured it would be worthwhile to post a few pictures to add to the office brag book.

Pretty in Pigtails

Aside from wearing clothes which are clearly outdated (we abide by the if it fits you wear it philosophy), Avery has fallen head over heels for Dora and her monkey sidekick, Boots. She has memorized every word (no exaggeration) in Dora Saves the Mermaids as well as Dora Saves the Snow Princess. She quotes lines from Dora like Eric quotes lines from Tombstone. Must be a genetic thing.

She's also learning to read right along with her bro. Well, she only knows one word, but hey, it's a start. Ask her how to spell STOP, and with her sweet, two-year-old voice, she'll confidently recite, "S-T-O-P!" I see spelling bees in this girl's future. Hopefully she won't falter on the word MOUNTAIN like her mom did. Stop laughing, Eric.

Now.

I mean it.

Since when did they put a "U" in MOUNTAIN, anyway?

Strangely enough, Avery is also fascinated right now with toe lint. Oh yes. She is. And she loves to broadcast her findings to anyone who might listen (usually Wyatt). Apparently, I need to make a better effort in getting her in the bathtub more frequently. I'll admit though, as a mom to two really young kids, I have bigger fish to fry. I mean, if it keeps her occupied long enough for me to make dinner, then so be it. We'll conquer personal hygiene at age three.

As for this guy, he's making all of his daddy's dreams come true in becoming quite the little outdoorsman. The boys went camping last weekend, and it was so cold one morning (14 degrees to be exact) that Eric just scooped him up out of tent--all cozy in his cocoon--and straight into his car seat. And there was nary a protest. I'm thrilled he has such a great time sleeping on the cold hard ground with his dad. It takes some of the pressure off of me! I'll take my fluffy pillow-top mattress, please.

Wyatt may be dabbling a bit in this new hobby, but don't worry, he has no plans to quit his day job. He's still very much active in his role as the friendly neighborhood Spiderman and shows no signs of hanging up his boots.

That's about it, in a nutshell. There will likely be more exciting posts in the near future, as our schedule is jam-packed with activities that we need to get in before we move. Just three more months!

I forgot to knock on wood.

2010-03-17T09:08:00.000-05:00

I'm pretty sure it cured her of climbing on Wyatt's dresser. Ever. Again.

Avery. She's a cute one, but boy is she hard-headed.

Just 4 hours after publishing my previous post, I met a distraught Avery in the hallway as she ran out of Wyatt's room crying inconsolably, anxiously clutching her limp arm. Here we go again...

I couldn't understand what she was trying to tell me, but I could make out enough to know she had gone back and done the very thing I had cautioned her against time and time again. That's the great thing about kids her age. They're very good at telling on themselves.

So much for the office-visit copay. It was after hours, which only meant one thing. A trip to the Emergency Room. Not just to fix her arm, but to get a lesson on how Mom and Dad can perform the maneuver at home because now that it's happened twice, it can happen much more frequently. Ewww. This is NOT what a signed up for when becoming a parent. I can do blood. But broken bones? No thanks.

To help her ligaments heal, they sent Avery home in a splint.

Surprisingly, she thinks it's a neat accessory and doesn't want to take it off. Fine by me. I'm not looking forward to popping in bones back in place any time soon.

Just another manic Monday

2010-03-15T16:36:00.000-05:00

We started our morning bright and early with an unexpected trip to the pediatrician's office. Avery wasted no time in briefing the doctor on the reason for our visit:

"My name Avery Sierra.
I climb on Wyatt's dresser and fall down and hurt my arm.
I here to fix my bones."

God definitely gave her the gift of gab.

But yes, we were there to fix her bones. Turns out she dislocated her elbow. I'm pretty sure it cured her of climbing on Wyatt's dresser. Ever. Again.

The doctor popped it back into place, and I'm not sure who cried louder, Avery or Wyatt. He didn't quite like the fact that Avery was getting so much attention. He carried on and on to the doctor about the boo boo on his toe while Avery's radius was being snapped into its socket. If he only knew.

Throwing her arms up in celebration of being healed...

...while Wyatt tried to milk every last ounce of
sympathy for the scrape on his toe.
Poor little pitiful soul.

It could've been much, much worse. So for a dislocated elbow (and only an office visit copay), I am grateful.

We finished up at the clinic just in time to meet Eric for lunch. And Wyatt shouted in glee and danced a little jig at the mere suggestion of taking a ride on the aerial tram that travels from the hospital to the South Waterfront. Apparently, his boo boo felt much better.

Boarding the tram

Departing the station, with a gorgeous view of Mt. St. Helens in the background.

A slightly different angle yields a view of an equally impressive Mt. Hood
(Hip, hip, hooray for clear skies!)

Sunset over Astoria

2010-03-13T17:16:00.000-06:00

We're sunset people. I can recall many dates, back porch conversations, and even strenuous hikes that have been organized around the setting sun. Living in Portland, however, we don't get to see much of the sun. Period. Watching the evening sky light up in brilliant shades of pink is just one of the things we're looking forward to most about moving back home.

We were excited last weekend to have at least one day without rain, so we decided to spend it in one of our favorite little coastal towns in hopes that 1) we'd catch a great sunset, and 2) we'd sample some great microbrews from Fort George Brewing Company. We hit the jackpot with both!

The Pacific Northwest is blanketed with breweries, and Eric has just about visited them all. And if he hasn't, I bet we'll likely be making a special trip between now and the time we move. Of all of the IPA's Eric has ever sampled, he deemed the Vortex IPA at Astoria's Fort George Brewing Company the best he has ever had. I have to admit, beer is not my specialty, but it was so good I chugged my first, sub-par selection just so I could order my very own pint of the Vortex. It was that good.

After dinner at the brewery, we made a mad dash to the Astoria Column for a unique view of the city at sunset.

We climbed all 164 steps to the platform at the very top of the column.

And we were rewarded handsomely for our efforts

Wyatt was especially impressed that his fraidy-cat mama climbed to the very top and picked a special flower for me to wear in my hair.

Avery and the Astoria-Megler Bridge at Sunset

Hey look, it's Elliot from E.T.

If you notice, I always seem to post a lot of pictures of the kids by themselves. If I could post just one with both of them in the same frame, I would. Trust me. But this is almost always how they turn out.

But they do have beautiful eyelids, don't they?

Other highlights of the trip included exploring Fort Clatsop (the encampment of the Lewis and Clark Expedition), and roasting marshmallows by the campfire.

You've Got Mail

2010-03-09T15:18:00.000-06:00

I don't know what it is about Tuesday, but the Postman always seems to deliver the most exciting mail on this day, unlike Monday, which may as well be renamed "Junkday". For example, yesterday we received a letter (amidst the plethora of coupons) from the US Census Bureau informing us that they will be mailing out the census questionnaire next week. How's that for exciting? And resourceful, I might add. I'm sure it will most certainly be the highlight of next Junkday. I'll be keeping my eyes peeled in anticipation.

But Tuesday is an entirely different postal experience all together. There's nothing like being hand-delivered a piece of mail that has the word OFFICIAL stamped all over it. Today was one of those days.

It's official, indeed. Eric may now legally practice medicine in the State of Oklahoma. This is one mighty expensive piece of paper that he has been dutifully working towards for the past 10 years. Don't think for a second we won't be getting this thing framed in gold.

Do they get any cuter?

2010-03-03T13:15:00.001-06:00

I don't know why I'm so cute, Mommy. There are just some things which are completely and utterly out of my control.

A great day for the Bubs.

2010-03-01T13:22:00.001-06:00

There are some days that I just feel like a broken record, repeating myself over and over and over (see, there I go). I especially feel this way on Tuesday and Thursday mornings during our two-minute commute to Wyatt's preschool. Avery too must be tiring of the sound of my voice, because she decided to give my voice box a much deserved break and take the reigns.

Backing out of the driveway, the following conversation ensued:

Avery: "You gonna have a good day at school, Bub?"

Wyatt (fiddling with his jacket zipper): "Um, hm."

Avery (pointing her finger sternly): "No hitting! No pushing! No picking (whatever that means)!"

Wyatt (obviously annoyed): "O! K! Avery!"

She waited a few moments to let Wyatt digest her admonishments before turning quickly towards him to get in the final word.

"And we don't say POOPY!"

Avery...she'll make a great nag some day. It's a good thing she's learning from the very best.

But apparently, Wyatt is learning more in school than how to body slam kids on the playground. He can now write his name without assistance and even demonstrated today how he can write Avery's name. He is so proud of himself he can't stop talking about it.

This must have been the morning for breakthrough's because Wyatt finally created a masterpiece he considers worthy of coveted refrigerator space. It usually takes all of ten seconds before a project is wadded into a tiny ball and deemed "not perfect enough." This is the first time he has colored a picture without any help at all, and stayed inside the lines. He's been using his spider sense to bounce off the walls all morning! Hip, hip, hooray for Wyatt!

Valentine Tea

2010-02-18T17:00:00.000-06:00

Just prior to my little getaway last weekend (which went very well, by the way--despite getting delayed in Denver one night and half of the next day), Avery was invited to her first real valentine tea party. She was so excited about it that she took every opportunity to tell everyone (including random strangers at the grocery store) about her special plans with her dear friend, Maggie Jane.

She spent a great deal of time selecting the perfect party dress. I suggested one, but she had her heart set on another. It was obvious she had put a lot of thought into her tea party attire and I wasn't about to interfere. After all, it's not every day the girl gets to wear tights and sparkly shoes.

Each guest was gifted with a gorgeous flowered hat, just perfect for a tea party. Avery looked so sophisticatedly adorable! Well, at least for the...oh...30 seconds I managed to get her to wear it.

The hat may not have gone over so well, but the dainty little tea cups were a huge hit. She sipped, and sipped, and sipped. And when her peppermint tea was all gone, she asked for more. I was actually quite surprised at how adventurous she was being with her beverage, seeing how it's nearly impossible to get her to experiment with anything outside the realm of milk or apple juice. Amused, she later admitted she didn't actually like the taste of the tea, but it was apparently a small price to pay for the chance to sip from such a fine little piece of china. That's my girl.

Now I'm just trying to figure out how I can get one of those hats in my size.

Weekend Getaway for Mommy

2010-02-12T09:53:00.000-06:00

In seven hours, I will be boarding a plane in route to Tulsa for three glorious days. Alone. With only a book (or two) and my iPod to keep me company. I can't even begin to imagine the paradise which awaits.

What I can only imagine is what the next few days holds for my husband, his first 3-day tour of Daddy Duty, and I can't help but be amused. He's ready for the task though, with trips to area donut and ice cream shops already on the itinerary. He's determined to distract them from any thoughts that may include missing their mama. He also promised Wyatt that one night they'd stay up all night long, just the two of them. I'm starting to wonder what price I am paying for a weekend away.

With everything seemingly under control, Eric admitted only a single worry for the upcoming weekend alone. Fixing Avery's hair.

You mean this mess? Yeah, I'd be worried too.

I'm so excited about my weekend bathing in the vast sea of granite, tile, paint, and cabinetry. But I've never spent a single night away from my kids. There's part of me that just wants to chicken out so I can tuck my kids into bed tonight, but the overwhelming majority tells me I'll get over it.

But I sure will miss this face.

And this one.

And even this one.

But maybe not this one. I need a little break from this one.

Although she sure can be cute when she's whiny. She knows how to use those baby blues to her advantage.

I speak fluent Charlie Brown.

2010-02-01T14:03:00.001-06:00

It seems as though Eric and I have been experiencing quite the communication barrier lately.

Me: "Do you think we should go with divided light, or prairie-view windows on the new house?"

Eric (browsing SI.com) hears, "Wah, wah....wah, wah, wah" and nods politely.

Me: "Or what about this beautiful oil-rubbed bronze pendant for the foyer?"

Eric (trapped somewhere on Wikipedia.com) hears, "Wah, wah....wah, wah, wah" and nods politely.

Me: "And I think this stone would be an excellent choice for the gable."

Eric (following weather trends from the National Weather Service) hears, "Wah, wah....wah, wah, wah" and nods politely.

When communication barriers like these arise in our house, I often resort to tactics like this to help us start speaking the same language again:

Me: "So, I was thinking we might convert your 4-car garage into a 2-car garage so I will have enough space to hold spa parties for my girlfriends. Besides, who needs that much garage anyway?"

It's a dirty, dirty trick, but it works every time.

Hang on Honey, It's Gonna Be a Wild Ride!

2010-01-25T23:00:00.000-06:00

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.

2010-01-19T17:46:00.000-06:00

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

2010-01-07T18:13:00.000-06:00

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

2010-01-01T15:40:00.000-06:00

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.

2009: A Year In Review

2009-12-31T14:52:00.000-06:00

New Years Eve.

Back in the day, it was one of those nights I hoped would be filled with excitement and memories I'd look back upon fondly through the years. Yet somehow, every eve of the new year seemed to turn out disastrous. I had a knack for ending up at the lamest parties, was almost always home before midnight (a preemptive approach on my part to avoid being kissed by some drunken fool with slurred speech), and before I knew it, would be dozing off with Dexy's Midnight Runners, "C'mon Eileen" playing over and over in my head. Needless to say, it's never really been my favorite holiday.

Today, New Years Eve serves a very different, but useful purpose for me. It gives me an opportunity to stop and reflect. To many, a year is just a single blip on the radar of life, but if you think about it, a lot can happen in a single year that may or may not alter a person forever.

Overall, it was a good year for our family. Eric and I both ramped up our fitness goals, allowing me to run my first half marathon in several years and him to complete some epic bike rides on the weekends. We're a healthier family than we were in 2008, and that's definitely something to celebrate.

Eric finished residency (halle-freakin'-lujah) while I rediscovered my passion for writing. And reading. I haven't blogged as much as I did in 2008, and it's because all of my free time has gone to one or the other. This year I managed to read thirty-three books, a huge feat for a girl who once got excited over a single book being read cover to cover, much less thirty-three. I read some incredible fiction, a couple of astonishing memoirs, some parenting books (of course), and a sprinkling of chick-lit just to give my brain a rest.

Life also threw us a few curve balls this year. Some of them will certainly bear very little impact on my life, like the fact that nearly almost everything we own has fallen, or is in the process of falling apart. Our vehicles have been in the shop more times than I can remember, our mighty Hoover decided to bite the dust, Eric's cell phone took a swim through the washing machine (in case you're wondering why he hasn't returned your phone call), the list goes on and on. While incredibly frustrating and fatal for the pocketbook these things can be, they are small and usually remedied with a good old-fashioned sense of humor.

Other curve balls thrown this year will weigh on my mind a little more heavily, like the passing of my dad. It's something we all have to go through at some point in our lives, and unfortunately, this was the year for several of my friends to experience such a loss. Gosh, it just doesn't seem like we're old enough for these things to be happening, does it?

Interestingly enough, some of the most exciting events have unfolded over the past two weeks while we were in Oklahoma visiting family over the holidays. Aside from the very impressive and rare white Christmas we had, Eric signed on with a Neurology practice affiliated with St. John Medical Center. It's official. We're moving back home.

Moving, hopefully, to a house that will be built right here on this beautifully snow-covered piece of land overlooking my hometown of Sand Springs. As one of my friends had so perfectly put it, "Once a Sandite, always a Sandite." Whatever the heck a Sandite is, I still don't know.

Eric talking to the builder

If all goes well, we'll be watching deer frolic through these

woods while dining at our breakfast nook.

I suspect the time I'm able to devote to reading will pretty much take a nosedive over the next several months.

As for how I plan on ringing in the new year, it will most likely involve a bottle of Tre Nova Sangiovese (which I see on the table at this very moment), a little bit of college football, and a game of scrabble. I intend to have at least one Scrabble victory for 2009, although I'm not holding my breath.

Happy New Year!

Have fun, and most importantly, be safe.

Merry Christmas

2009-12-25T07:00:00.000-06:00

SEASON'S GREETINGS
from the Pacific Northwest

May health, happiness and good cheer
greet you each day of the new year!

The Edgar Family
Eric, Catrina, Wyatt, and Avery

(Our Christmas cards this year were designed by a dear friend of mine from college. Her name is Whitney English Kolb. Not only is she a creative genius, but her work ethic is second to none. She even has retailers in Oregon! Take some time to browse her website. Trust me, you're in for a real treat).

Christmas Program

2009-12-18T09:09:00.000-06:00

Last night was Wyatt's Christmas program at school. I'd been looking forward to it for several weeks because....well...nothing melts my heart like watching a bunch of three and four-year-olds sing their hearts out in celebration of Jesus' birth. And because I know my son well enough to know that if everyone else was expected to sing songs with perfectly timed hand motions, he'd be doing anything but.

I've never seen a more adorable herd of sheep and cows in my life.
I'm the proud mama of the handsome cow on the far left.

The kids performed about 6 songs, and Wyatt gave such a great effort with each new song, but the first time he faltered, he threw in the towel the rest of the song. The poor guy has such high expectations of his four-year-old little self. His personal motto? If I can't do it perfectly the first time, then by george, I'm not gonna do it at all. I wish I could somehow help him understand that learning to do something well takes time, patience, and practice.

As the program came to a close, the adorable little herd was shepherded off the stage and into the arms of all of the proud mamas and papas. Wyatt's face had FRUSTRATED written all over it, which meant Eric and I had to turn up the praises and accolades a notch...or two. But in typical Wyatt fashion, he didn't buy into it.

Mommy, Daddy, and Avery: "Yea! Great job, Buddy. Way to go!"
Wyatt (staring angrily at the ground): "I don't. Know how. TO SING!"

Trying to change the subject, I tell him how cute he looks as a cow. His response?
"Well....I really wanted to be a sheep."

Alrighty then.

"Well, would you like to go to the lobby and have cookies?"

Sugar. The universal panacea for all which ails a child.