"Here's Looking at YOU Kid"

So I was going through my canned goods cupboard yesterday, and way in the back I see these 2 eyes looking at me over the top of a can! The only animals we currently own are goldfish and water snails, so I knew it was not a family pet. It freaked me out a little, but I decided to be a big girl and get whatever it was, out.  I gingerly moved the can and found...a POTATO, with a root/eye that had sprouted 7 inches tall and had 2 round  horns sprouting from the top, just like two beady eyes! Scared me to death! lololol I thought maybe I should save it and plant it or something, but potato eyes have always given me the willies, so I threw it away. 


I should have taken a picture though. :)

NEW BLOGSPOT

Well folks, this blog probably looks kind of awkward right now, because I just moved over here from Wordpress. No big important reason really, except that Wordpress has such *boring* backgrounds, and I wanted a pretty blog! So there you see the depth of my vanity.

I couldn't figure out the import/export stuff, so I just copied and pasted all my previous posts from Wordpress over to here. That's why the dates are all off. Anyway, just thought I'd update my loyal fans! (hi mom!)

Picnik-y Spring

March 2011

Yesterday was gorgeous. We don’t see too many warm AND sunny days ’round these here parts. Did you know that it is either raining or snowing 1 out of 3 days in this city?! It’s true. Might as well live in the rainforest. Not too many people know about this particular rainforest, but it's very, very REAL. 

Clouds and I don’t get along very well. I mean, I like a cozy, rainy day just as much as the next person. Good book, hot chocolate, cozy spot on the couch, all that nice stuff. Every couple weeks or so, that would be nice. But when you get one, MAYBE two sunny days out of every week, it starts to wear on your nerves.  A lot.  Last summer we had a “drought”. It only rained once a week. Everyone was praying for rain. Crazy. lol

But I didn’t start this post to complain about the weather. I do more than enough of that.  As I was saying, yesterday was gorgeous! Sunny, springy, warm! The kids and I didn’t get anything done all afternoon (except for getting the van cleaned out, which it needed desperately). We just played outside and took pictures, and while they were “napping” I had fun editing them on Picnik, my favorite toy. I love that thing! And it’s free, gotta love that!

It’s dark and cloudy again today, but Happy Almost Spring everyone!

Searching for Caterpillars

Hooray for Spring!

Pastrami A +, Pickles F-

Pastrami A +, Pickles F- March 2011

Well I’m not a foodie or a chef, I don’t even watch those crazy cook-off shows, (although I do think Cupcake Wars is kind of fun to watch). But I was so proud of myself today that I had to post a picture.  I am finally getting past the morning sickness phase of this pregnancy and feeling like a real person again! So for lunch today I actually prepared food to eat, instead of rummaging like a zombie through the freezer for pizza pockets and corn dogs to heat in the microwave. Adam has been talking about pastrami a lot lately, (pregnancy sympathy cravings???)  so I got some at the deli on our last grocery trip. Did you know turkey pastrami is only 3.99 a pound?! How did I not know that? We have been missing out on all of this pastrami goodness because I didn’t even know there was such a thing as TURKEY pastrami. Like I said, I’m no foodie, but I think it tastes the same. And I’m guessing it’s better for you since it’s made from a bird instead of a…cow? pig? Something like that.

Anyway, yay me. Big pat on my back. For making it through my first 11 weeks of pregnancy without anyone in the house getting food poisoning or starving. And to celebrate, here is a picture of what made Adam very happy today when he came home for lunch.

 Not too shabby, even if it is made with basic wheat bread and served on a paper plate. Hey, I may be up to making a sandwich, but I don’t want to waste my energy on dishes if I don’t have to! 

 The only thing missing was pickles, which I actually got out, but was very bummed to discover out that the brand I bought was NOT good! Yes, I am a stereotypical pregnant lady with pickles this time around, and Mt. Olive Baby Dill Pickles did not make the cut!They taste like, well, olives! They don’t even smell like pickles. They did not even CRUNCH. Not good.

I guess I will just go back to Great Value baby dills, they taste great. (I just really wanted the little tiny pickles, and Mt. Olive were the only ones I could find.) ANYWAY, have a great day everyone!

Dream House or Dream Home

Dream House/Dream Home April 2010

It’s fun to dream…if I could put together the perfect “dream house” for our family, it would probably look something like this.

It would have a family friendly and serene kitchen:(minus the birdhouse…indoor birdhouses aren’t really my style).

The open floor plan would be spacious–but not too big–with a warm, rich color palette:

Lily’s room would be picture perfect:

And Jackson’s room would probably be something along these lines:

The master bedroom and bath would be an oasis of peace and relaxation:                                  

And the ceilings would be oh so wonderfully high!

While we’re dreaming how about an outdoor living area?

Okay, back to reality. In reality, our house looks nothing like this.  In reality, I have purple countertops, a yellow bathtub, and popcorn-textured ceilings that I can practically touch if I stand on my tiptoes. In reality, my house is–beautiful.

Beautiful because it is filled with the people I love most in the world. Beautiful because it is decorated with my son’s toy cars on the floor, and my daughter’s fingerprints on the mirror. And because our dreams are here.

Every family has dreams. For us, our greatest dreams revolve around each other and where God wants us to be. We are so amazingly blessed. We don’t deserve to be taken care of, to have a roof over our heads, beds to sleep in, shelter from the heat and cold. And yet, here we are surrounded by all of these things and more, simply because God has provided them for us.

Sure, a “dream house” would be nice. But if I had to choose, a dream home is even better. And that’s really what I’ve got.

My Corner of Perfect

February 2010

In the corner of the United States, on the corner of Bridge Vista and Selah Loop, there is a yellow house with a star on

top. A little gate with a trellis over it welcomes family and friends, and invites them to step into a place where life slows down and becomes a little less complicated. Several years have passed since I visited, but I go back there just about every day.

My grandparents’ house holds many memories for me. Neither big nor small, it’s the perfect size. Inside, there is a kitchen, dining room, living room, two bedrooms, a fireplace, a woodstove, and an attic. Outside, past the surrounding porch and patio, you will find a cherry tree, an apple tree, a peach tree, a walnut tree, numerous flower beds and a vegetable garden.

My dad and his sister grew up there. At the age of 18, he married my mom in that house. Later, when my mom’s illness put her in the hospital for months at a time, my family moved in and my grandparents took care of us while my dad worked. Years later, Adam & I had our wedding reception under the walnut tree.

As a kid, I could often be found in that walnut tree, reading a book. I  loved everything about that house, especially the yard. I would spend  hours wandering around outside, playing with kittens or baby chicks  under the porch, walking barefoot in the garden, or exploring the fruit  cellar. I remember drying my hair in the sunshine on hot summer  mornings, watching Grandpa mow the lawn or Grandma water her  flowers. I hope I get to see Lily and Jackson running in that yard.

I loved the yard best, but the attic was a close second. It was my dad’s  room when he was a boy, and when we moved in it became mine. Dozens and dozens of beautiful porcelain dolls lived there, as well as all the various knickknacks and collectibles Grandma had acquired over the years. I loved exploring through old dressers and trunks, daydreaming in the window at the top of the stairs, and sleeping under heavy old quilts on the white brass bed.

Biscuits and gravy on cold mornings, summer evenings on the patio, Mariners games on the radio, yard-saling with Grandma, fresh cherries from the tree, Grandpa in his wood-working shop, tulips and daffodils in the spring, ivy and roses and pansies all summer, fresh sweet corn every August, sunflowers as high as the roof, the smell of fresh-cut grass every Saturday, home-canned grape juice, birthdays and Christmas and beans and cornbread…it’s always been that way, at least as long as I can remember.

Now, grandma’s memory is fading. Dementia. She’s not very old, only in her sixties. Grandpa just had another surgery to remove cancer. It scares me a little, to think that things might change. I know everything else changes, and people get older or move away, and nothing stays the same– and that’s okay. I’m used to that. But not them. Not that place. That can’t change.

I guess it is rather childish of me to hope it will always be there, unchanging, waiting for me forever. But I hope it does. I don’t know what I would do without it—the only thing in my childhood that never changed, never got sick, never moved away. I have a great life where I’m at, and I don’t wish for my childhood back, or anything silly like that. I just want it to stay right where it is, where I can always go back–to my little corner of perfect.

Yesterday’s slipping,

Slipping away.

Time’s swiftly running,

Leaving Today–

Racing ahead of

Those golden days,

Forgetting about

My little place

Where the sun shines warm

On sweet green grass,

Where pansies nod, and

Wink as you pass.

Come back, Yesterday.

Today, stand still.

Wait just a minute,

Time, stay until

A lock be set ‘round

My little place

To stay for all time—

The same, always.

February 1, 2010 Posted by Aleassa | Living Life | 9 Comments | Edit

One Of Those Days June 2009

I round the corner of the kitchen counter bar, and I feel a slimy squish under my foot–the banana that I JUST cut up for Jackson is now ground into the carpet. Nice. “Na-na! Na-na!” Jackson is asking for more banana. Why, so he can throw more on the cheerio-covered floor? No way, Bud! My patience is thinning rapidly. I’ve been trying to get the floor swept and vacuumed for the last hour with no luck and now I have to clean up gross banana first.

 On my right, the kitchen is full of incompletes–a cold, half-gone mug of coffee, a sink with one side empty and one piled up, the fridge hanging open because I ran over to stop Jackson from crawling on the counter, the mirror on the wall reflecting my damp and now frizzy hair hanging in my eyes, and a freshly-swept pile of dirt and food spreading itself back out across the floor.

 On my left, the living room is in chaos–slipcovers hanging off the furniture; books all over the floor; toy kitchen and all its contents knocked over; dvds piled up all around and on on top of the entertainment center (I hate that!); a cup of water, given to Lily only minutes before, is now on its side in a big soggy spot; the vacuum waiting patiently in the middle of everything. My 900 sq. foot apartment is caving in on me! And all I see outside are more blasted clouds, clouds, clouds!

———————————–

That was at 9:00 this morning , and it has been “one of those days”.

 At moments like these, it is difficult to see the joy of motherhood. Now, here is the spot where I am supposed to start writing about all the blessings and miracles and rainbows that make it all so worthwhile. And it is worthwhile. And there are blessings, and miracles, and rainbows even. We all know it’s worth it. But sometimes, you just have a bad morning. Sometimes, you just DON’T want to hear someone say, “Enjoy it while you can, the years go too fast!”  

 How many times do we just feel like running out the door screaming, and then hear this little voice of guilt inside saying, “You’re such a bad mom! Other moms appreciate their precious little cherubs, why don’t you?” And you don’t really want to share it with anyone, either. It’s like once you become a mother, you join this club where the club members feel this strange compulsion to show each other what an orderly, sunny life they live. Not in a mean or judgmental way, but in a way where nobody wants to admit that their house gets messy, or that their kids throw food on the floor and and try to kill each other, or that sometimes you just wonder, “Why on EARTH did God think I was cut out for this job???!!!”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               As I cleaned the grilled cheese out of my son’s hair this afternoon, and watched my daughter purposely pour an entire bottle of water out on the floor, I thought, “I should be laughing at this. A good mom would laugh, or take a picture, or something.” So I took a picture. But it wasn’t funny!  It probably will be later, but it wasn’t then.

So on days like this, instead of feeling guilty and unworthy of motherhood, how about we all leave the “Super-Mom Club”, and join the “I’m-not-perfect-but-I-try-hard” support group? Because we’re not perfect moms. Nobody is or ever was. Sometimes being a mom stinks (literally, lol). And I really think it’s okay to admit that.