Back to Work....

I set three alarm clocks last night, but didn't need them. I have an alarm that does this:

"Mommy? Cereal. Mommy? Cereal! Mommy! Cereal! MOMMY! CEREAL!"

And when you give it its cereal, it sounds like this: "Mommy? Balloon!"

Who needs electronics?

Best. Job. Ever.

Dear Libby and Peyton,

I’m sitting here thinking of the two of you on the eve of my last official day as a stay at home mom. On Tuesday I’ll go back to work full time. In your lives I haven’t even worked a day, and I worry about what this change will mean for you. I never thought I’d get to stay home with you as long as I have. I’ve loved it. We owe Daddy so much gratitude for working so hard these last years to make it possible for me to be home. I’ve loved our slow mornings and pancake breakfasts. I’ve loved that you’ve been able to play with neighborhood friends, any time of day, in your underwear. I’ve loved eating popcorn and watching Annie even after the two of you barely touched your dinner. I’ve loved schlepping the two of you all over town in sun and rain and taking you on every errand. I’ve loved play dates, gymnastics, dance class and a futile attempt at swim lessons. I’ve loved the moments when I’ve had the time and patience to let you do something yourself even though it takes so much longer than doing it for you. I’ve loved watching the friendship develop between the two of you. Recently, I’ve loved listening to conversations between the two of you; conversations where I’m no longer needed.

I know I’m not the first mom to wrestle with this dilemma to work or not to work. It is quite the conversation among women and tends to be a pretty hot button issue. It’s not a hot topic for me. It’s never been about what other women, other families should do. Frankly, I don’t care. For me the struggle is simply this: I care about you. I love being with YOU.

People are quick to point out our ideal daycare situation. It is ideal and I’m so grateful. And because I’m a teacher, in a few short years the two of you and I will have the same schedule. That’s true too. Other children go to daycare. True. There are worse things. True. True. True. But, that’s the point. It just isn’t about any of that. For me it’s this: Being home with you for nearly four years has been……well, amazing. An amazing I didn’t imagine before you were born. We’ve not been without plenty of moments that fell short of amazing, but overall I wouldn’t trade one sleepless night, one blowout diaper or one projectile barf in my direction. I’d keep every moment because included in those moments are the sweetest snuggles, heart wrenching smiles and milestones that I’ve been present for. Being with you has been the single best use of my time, patience, energy and talent. Ever.

It all comes down to being present. If you grow up to be decent, loving people I’ve done my job. I know I can still do that job while being a working mom. But, I want more for you, more for us. One day I hope you’ll be able to look back on your life and say, “My mom was present. She was there for me. She hung up her phone, closed her laptop and turned off the t.v. for me. She looked me nose to nose and really got me. She showed up when I needed her to. She sees ME.”

When you were born I was surprised that loving you felt like such an ache; a connection I’d been told about but didn’t fully understand. In an instant we’d been handed this responsibility to care for you, protect you, love you. I hope I’ll always be able to communicate my love for the two of you in word, but more importantly in action. I love you both so much. Thanks for the opportunity to be with you. Because of Daddy and the two of you, the most important job titles I’ll ever hold are Wife and Mom. Paid or not. I love you to the moon and back.

Love, Mom

Two Weddings and a Whole Lotta Pictures....

We've gone to two weddings in the last three weeks and I took an insane number of pictures. You may not believe me, but this post is actually really paired down.

The girls with cousin Lucy

Lucy doles out some high fives

My beach girl

Kevin and Susan heading for their seats. The beach had seen weather of 85 degrees every day leading up to the wedding. On the day of the wedding it was a solid 57 degrees. Bummer. Sorry Kevin, but I had to include this one because it cracked me up....

Libby and Aunt Susan huddle for warmth.

Here comes the bride....

Bride and Groom. Kelly and Joel.

Ignoring the fact that my eyes are closed, I love the people in this picture.

The girls danced as though we'd come to the beach so they'd have their own personal mosh pit. It was also how we all warmed up. Well, that and jeans under my dress and replacing my flip flop with Uggs. Yep, always on fashion's cutting edge.

Three exhausted dance floor babies.

The next morning....

The day before Shane had told the girls that "the lovers" were on the beach, meaning Kelly and Joel. Lucy and Libby were on the balcony of our hotel looking for lovers.

Libby loved having a running arsenal of water balloons. This is the morning after the wedding at the Groshong house. Gorgeous spot.

Jump ahead one week. Amy had a meeting in Grants Pass so we got Lucy for the day. The girls tore it up in the bouncy house. Serious energy zapper. Mommy like.

Lucy throws caution to the wind and jumps down the slide. This kid can take a beating without so much as a wimper or a tear. That's good, since one of these days I fear I might have a knee jerk reaction to one of her "kiss-licks". Yes, it's exactly what it sounds like. Her mother taught it to her. I love you, Amy. I love your baby girl. I do not love a kiss-lick.

Bathtime!

Hysteria!

You can't watch little girls laugh this hard and not laugh yourself. I dare you. Try.

On Saturday we headed to Medford for the wedding reception of Shane and Amy's cousin Lane and his beautiful bride Jenna. Lane's mom Marybeth is a teacher and had lots of fun things for the kids to do. Peyton commandeered the hula hoop for the night.

The arrival of the happy couple.

First dance.

Lucy Girl.

A bedtime repeat of one week before. Lots of giggles. Both Amy and I forgot to bring books....

....so, Amy read them this. Fascinating stuff when you're two.

We got home Sunday afternoon and this was all I had the energy for. Pizza delivery is the best invention ever.

A couple of shots from this week....

Libby roasts a marshmallow when we were in Florence. It took some effort (on Shane's part) to get to this point. He'd argue this, but when it comes to building a fire, a Boy Scout he is not. I love you darlin', but get some newspaper, kindling and make a teepee for cryin' out loud. Instead, he throws some kindling in the fire pit, scrounges around for whatever kind of liquid fuel he can find, douses the kindling and throws a match at it. It's painful to watch, but as it turns out, it's a very Groshong trait. In spending time with more Groshongs in the past two weeks, I witnessed other Groshong men using this same fire building technique. The problem is that given enough time, and enough lighter fluid their technique does eventually work. I think Libby put it best though, as we sat together watching her daddy try to get his fire lit. She said, "Daddy, your fire needs more......um, fire." That's my girl.

Peyton loves using scissors. I think as she lays her head down at night she drifts off dreaming of all the perfectly in-tact pieces of paper just waiting to be destroyed at her hands. There can never be enough paper....

POP!

We spent the night in Florence last night. Shane was up early to go fishing and never woke the girls. This is a milestone for us. Last year they'd have woken, cried and we'd finish the morning with me, two girls, and a 90 lb. dog in the bed. Today's wakening was a bit more peaceful. A bit.

Libby: "Moooooooom! I want Pop Tarts! (She knows they're in the trailer) Mom! Moooooooom! I want Pop Tarts!"

Peyton: "Pop."

Libby: "Mom! Moooooooom! I want Pop Tarts!"

Peyton: "Pop."

Libby: "Peyton, Pop Tarts don't pop. Mom!"

Peyton: "Pop."

Libby: "Peyton, they don't pop. I want Pop Tarts!"

Peyton: "Pop."

Libby: "Mom! Peyton thinks Pop Tarts pop!"

Peyton: "Pop. Pop. Pop."

Libby: "Mom!"

I surrendered and got up. I bet you can guess what they had for breakfast. Next on the menu: Teaching Libby how not to get so riled by her little sister. Julane, maybe I should let you take this one.......

Hanging On The Edge

Last week I felt like I was hanging on the edge of trying to get everything organized in my classroom. During the first official week back I know I'm going to want to spend time meeting with my team and getting my classroom ready. But realistically, I'm going to be spending my time in meetings, re-trainings, curriculum trainings and more meetings. Therefore, I was feeling hugely overwhelmed trying to take the girls to school and expect them to sit quietly in a corner for hours on end without making any messes that would have to be cleaned up before leaving each day. Oh, the messes. Enter, my mom. She offered to come and gave me two full days to get some things done without trying to manage little people at the same time. I got so much done. There is still more to do, but many things I can do from home when my littles are sleeping. I have a new found appreciation for the time I do spend with the girls. On tonight's agenda, swimming, dinner and whatever else we feel like doing. Laundry, I don't love you. You'll have to wait.

And remember that mural that I decided not to do? Yeah, I even did that too. I'm feeling a little less on the edge today....

Tomorrow.... reading curriculum.

All's Fair

Last week we went to the fair and loved it. And by we, I mean my friend Becky, Libby and I loved it. Peyton sat and cried while Libby rode the rides Peyton was too short for. Next year will be her year....

The Swings. Perma-grin for the whole ride.

Libby finished with a canoe ride, though she had to be talked into it. She had her eye on something more daring. The canoes were, I think, the only ride that Peyton met the height requirement for and she was so happy to be participating. I had to ignore the fact that 30 minutes before they climbed in their boat we witnessed a very hot and tired woman take off her shoes and cool her dogs in the lazy river. Gross. Girls, please don't touch the water.

After rides we headed to the food booths and got some dinner and (of course) an elephant ear. Then, we made our way over to see the animals....

EVERY year there is a mama pig with her piglets and this year was no different. They're so cute, but as I watched this poor mother feed her babies I couldn't escaped some other thoughts. First, I am so happy to no longer be a breast feeding mother. I'm glad I was. My girls got off to a great start in life, but that's a chapter I'm happy to have closed. I'm also glad I didn't have multiples. Can you imagine? And lastly, if I had this anatomy Shane would be the happiest man on the planet. I'm betting if all new mothers had machinery as tempting as this fine sow, fewer men would go looking for younger, hotter pieces of bacon.

Bebo (Becky) and the girls head off to see some goats.

Creative Inspiration

I bet you can guess what inspired the color on this bulletin board....

....and on my newly revamped soap box.

Grunden this morning. "Go ahead, squirrels. I dare you. Cross my yard."

Brotherly Love

In the car heading home....

Libby: "I want a brother."

Me: "Oh yeah? Where you gonna get a brother?"

Libby: "From the Humane Society."

Me: "Like the furry, four legged kind?"

Libby: "Yeah."

Me: "What'r you gonna name him?"

Libby: "Jacksy. But, I'll call him Toot."

Confessions of a Neurotic Procrastinator

My to do list goes on for miles right now. I worked in my classroom for two and a half hours this morning, which is about the girls' limit. When my list gets this long I tend to check out by finding other things to do. Creative things. Things I should NOT be spending my time on. I'm hoping this charming little character flaw will someday make me millions. I spent a good ten minutes this morning staring at a wall in my classroom thinking it would be the perfect spot to paint a mural of the illustrations of Shel Silverstein. It really would be great. It would create such an inviting learning environment. But, I really don't have time for murals. I'm just avoiding a shelf of curriculum I should be learning, posters that need to be hung, lessons to be planned. Case in point (sit down if you know me well).... I haven't even watched t.v. this summer. No reality t.v. even, and reality t.v. and I LOVE each other. I'm struggling to focus on doing what's important. Things that'll really matter at the end of my life. On the day I take my last breath, I doubt I'll look back and say, "I really wish I'd painted that mural."

Instead, here's what I did do this week. The lunch boxes were $3.99 at Target. The velcro letters on the front took a lot less time than it would take me to paint a mural, and I still had time to take the girls swimming. Mural schmural.

The girls are sleeping. I'm gonna go take a look at that list....

I'm a lover, not a fighter.... No, really.

We've got some pretty massive (for us) changes on the horizon, and lately the activity around our house seems like the nesting you'd be doing if you were about to welcome an infant into your lives. We've installed a sprinkler system, replaced two lawns, a deck, built a sand box and moved the contents of our storage shed and our garage. We are go go go during the week and then bust outta here on the weekends to try and take in summer before it all slips away. That's what it feels like; it's all slipping away. I'm trying to stay in the moment and not let the panic of working outside the home sneak up on me. But let me tell you, that monster is waiting around every corner and loves to taunt me by rearing its head. I cannot escape the fact that I'm about to start doing something very different with my time. Maybe that's why lately I'm a bit more confrontational than normal....

Rewind to about a week ago.

Exhibit A:

I love playing out front with the girls. I love talking to the neighbors and we have a lot of foot traffic on our street and people are friendly. What I do not love is that we live on a straight stretch of 25 mile per hour road, where people generally go 40-45. Many go even faster. It feels like we live on a highway. There are also lots of small kids and dogs in the neighborhood. So, the other day as I'm leaving I notice our side gate is open and I pull back into the driveway to close it. As I'm getting back in my car a 70s-ish Chevy Chevelle (I know nothing about cars, but this one had a giant label across its windshield to identify it) takes off and goes hauling past our house way too fast. So I follow him in a low speed (25 mile an hour to be exact) pursuit. I go to the end our our road and then wind through the neighborhood, but of course there's no way I'm going to catch him. So, I surrender the chase and head (on a main street) toward town to resume my errands. Three blocks later the Chevelle pulls onto the road behind me. I watch him in my mirror and when he takes a right, I take the next one. I wind through a neighborhood until I spot him pulled over talking to a man in a Suburban loaded with kids. By this time my heart is pounding. This is soooooo not like me, but I'm so fed up with the speed on our street. So, I pull up to where the two men are talking.

I ask him, "Hey were you just out on [our street] driving north?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Listen I'm not just trying to be a hard---, but I live on that street. I have a two and a three year old. We play in the driveway as do lots of other families. There's really no reason for you to be driving that fast, and we'd sure appreciate it if you'd slow down."

"Uh, yeah. No problem. I can do that. Sorry."

"Thanks."

And I drive off. Then Libby says, "Mom, who was that man?" and I say, "Just a man who drives too fast. End of story. Well, not really. After that I called Shane to tell him what I'd done. For me, it was a small victory, and he was a nice guy. It's not going to solve the problem, but at least that guy's not going to be the problem.

Exhibit B:

Now, fast forward to last Friday. We're returning home from lunch at The Scandinavian Festival and pass by a driveway on our street where five people are piling into a small car. That car pulls in behind me and just as I'm about to turn into our driveway I look into my rear view mirror. I wish I hadn't looked into my mirror. Because what I see is the teenage driver of that car with his window down, arm out, making gestures that I can only interpret to mean, "Get the ---- outta my way. You're slowing me the ---- down." Oh, I wish I hadn't looked in my mirror, because now I'm hot. Not Halle Berry in 007 hot, but more Steve Martin buying hot dogs, hot. I slam on my brakes, put it in park and tell Shane, "Stay in the car." The problem with getting so fired up, is that much of that confrontation is a blur. I know I came at this kid yelling. I know I told him that I have small kids and that there's no reason for him to be speeding past my house. I know his rebuttle was the fact that he was "only driving 26 miles per hour." to which I replied, "ONLY BECAUSE I WAS IN YOUR WAY GOING THE SPEED LIMIT!" But from inside the car Shane heard him talk back to me, which was enough to get him hot, so when I returned to my driver's seat, my passenger was missing. Then when I jumped back out of the car to break up the fight that I'd started, I realized I'd put my car into reverse, and now it's slowing rolling toward the car behind us. I jumped back in, put it in park (phew) and got back out only to stand in between my husband and this gesturing kid's front seat passenger who is now out of his seat. He appears not to be a teenager and is no small guy. Shane later told me the three kids in the backseat were staring wide eyed, but seemed intent on staying put. I also thought I heard someone tell Shane to get control of his wife, but maybe those were just my own thoughts.

In the end some neighbors had quite a show, no one fought and luckily our next door neighbor who almost dialed 911, didn't. Peyton was asleep, but Libby heard the entire row. I'm not proud of that. Later that day, the father of the girl in the backseat of that car came down and introduced himself, shook our hands, had a beer and agreed about the speed problem on our street and the disrespectful nature of some teenaged drivers. I think his words were, "Sometimes punk--- kids need an ---whoopin'." I like this guy. A lot. For the record, neither Shane nor I are interested in whoopin' on anyone. Least of all, drivers who are still kids themselves. But, I definitely took this one personally. My tolerance is down. My hackles are up. And if I'm really honest, it probably has to do with what's on our immediate horizon. Not just the speed of the drivers on our street. Maybe we all just need to slow down and spend some time takin' it in.

I think it's no coincidence that a friend of mine posted this on facebook today. Talk about taking the high road. If this guy can do what he did......

A Lesson in Fractions

Did I mention that after Shane built our patio he also built the girls a sandbox? They love it.

Peyton's considering the convent someday.....

Our old broken kiddie pool became our old sandbox. But now that we have a much better sandbox the pool needed to go. I cut it into pieces so it would fit in the garbage can and it became an impromptu lesson in fractions. I ran to get my camera so we'd have a reference to look back on. In my mind I thought, "I could totally homeschool. Look at me taking a real life opportunity to teach about fractions to my brilliant two and three year old!"

I explained that having four even pieces meant we had fourths....

...and that when we put three of them together we call it 3/4.

Together they (sniff) made one whole.

Despite all the applause in my head I wasn't quite finished with my little prodigies. I asked Libby, "How many pieces make up one half of the pool?" She thought carefully. She considered. She pondered. She studied. Her eyes lit up with recognition. She answered, "Thirteen!"

At least my girl's got conviction.

I came across this sleeping bag in the closet. It's a good fit for my little mummies.

Getting out. Again.

The yard is in. It's gorgeous. We're going to love having it done this fall. I told ya so.

This is the second trailer full of sod that I loaded from the back yard. Yes, I asked for it. Maybe I'd do it again. But luckily, I won't have to. Hauling sod is fun for about the first 15 seconds. After that I spent some time wondering, "What was I thinking?"

Before.

After.

We finished getting the yard ready for the new sod on Friday and then left town and abandoned this project in favor of fun. Fun, in the form of Cush's cabin on the Mckenzie.

Libby gets a kick out of Grey's improptu wardrobe change.

Cush pushed Peyton in the swing.

Duck fans, check out Jeff's shirt. O yeah, baby.

Post swim snuggles.

Grey gets the slide ready for slippin'.

Good boy.

Mastering stairs.

Goofy.

Goofier.

Check out the madness Hollie took on at bedtime.

Grunny snuck in some snuggles on the bed.

A pretty amazing way to wake up in the morning....

Lunch, before leaving.

My dad and Margie were in Salem for my dad's 5oth high school reunion and came down to stay with us on Sunday night. We had dinner and then we recommended the movie The Hangover, which we'd just watched at the cabin. Shane and I laughed as though we'd never seen it. Then, we decided we should never recommend another movie to any of our friends and family again. Ever. But seriously, watch it. It's soooooo funny.