We’re IN!

With lots of help from awesome friends, we did this last night:

We have all our STUFF in our HOUSE! Now I am pawing through it all and slowly putting it away. This has been our fastest move yet—we did it all in just over one day, from packing to moving to unloading (not organizing). Therefore, this is also our least organized move yet—I can’t find ANYTHING! After a night of going without water, we have running water now too (with the help of a friendly, slightly expensive plumber).  My bladder is glad.

This is a wimpy bare-bones-update post. Maybe I’ll write a few clever, juicy stories and add more pictures when I calm the chaos a little more.

Moving is exhausting.

Shaking

Today I am shaking for 2 reasons.

While Jay, Rose, and I were eating breakfast an hour ago, our loud neighbor was standing at her door (right next to our open window) talking to her loud friend loudly. She started off slowly, but then picked up steam (and volume), recounting what I’m sure was a riveting tale of some sort. The decibels I can deal with, but…NOT THE LANGUAGE.

We have put up with a good amount of bad language floating up through the floorboards from that neighbor’s apartment. It hurts to hear her yell and swear so foully at her sweet kids (I used to babysit those kids, so I know they’re sweet). But today it was just a friend she was talking to (she wasn’t even mad for once), and she started in the h’s and moved up and down the alphabet of swear words, landing on the worst one and kind of getting stuck there for a few sentences.

The poor language of the neighbors has been the #1 thing I have HATED (yes, it deserves that strong of a word) about living in this blasted apartment. I have resorted to various creative methods to anonymously stop the swearing.

Once I tiptoed next door and ding-dong-ditched them to distract the mom from the destructive language (it totally worked).

Another time I ripped open our front door and shouted to the guys upstairs to please quit swearing, and then slammed the door again and locked it.

Once a random lady was standing on our driveway right outside our open window on the worst tirade EVER with so many f-bombs that we could’ve exploded on the spot. I wrenched open the door and said “excuse me, ma’am! EXCUSE ME! (She was yelling to loudly to hear me at first) Can you please stop swearing?!” She gave me a look of pure venom and stomped off, still shouting obscenities to the neighborhood.

It’s making me shaky just to write all these stories. I’m not quite sure exactly why I get shaky. I think it has something to do with anger and something to do with complete helplessness. Having other people and their foul mouths invade and disrupt the spirit of MY HOME is about more than I can bear.

Back to this morning: on pure adrenaline, and dressed in my tie-dye pajama pants, bare feet, and scrunchy-spiky morning hair, I dashed next door, stood in their doorway, and said in an impressively calm voice, “Susie, can you please stop swearing? My babies and I are eating breakfast right now, and I just can’t stand it.” She adopted the look of a dog who had just been kicked by a friend, and she said “ok, sorry!” in a tiny voice. Then I said thank you and got out of there before I did something dumb like cry or apologize.

When I dashed back inside, adrenaline was PUMPING (where’s a good race when you need one?) and I was shaking like a leaf! My appetite left, and my cereal felt like a nasty lump in my tummy. It still does.

Defending my family from the horrors of the world is terrifying! But then I think of sweet, bright Jay who soaks up and repeats everything he hears (he even mimics the lisp of the little boy next door for fun, comparing how words sound with or without it). And the mother bear in me GROWLS into action.   

That brings me to the other shaky thing today: we are on the verge of a “nice” 3-day weekend. It could be not-so-nice or incredibly nice because we could be signing our house papers today OR Tuesday, depending on how fast they can get ‘em ready. I don’t know if I can stand the suspense.

Oh, and Jay and Rose had Jell-o for the first time this week.
I think they liked it.

Hoops

This morning I lowered our basketball hoop to Rose’s level. A pickup game of shirts and skins began almost instantly. And Rose was actually winning until Jay hogged possession of the ball.

Slam dunkin’ ROSE!

Jay loves hanging out in his underwear as long as he can before we have to go outside and I make him get dressed. He wraps up in blankets and reads books on the couch or in his fort. The “snuggle up and read” gene came from me, and the basketball gene came from the rest of my family.

I love Jay’s shooting form. Claw fingers.

They’re already as good at basketball as I ever was!

Whackeroni-Nackernoni

Jay turned 3 yesterday! May 21st. Books, Star Wars, and Star Wars books. Tractor, park, macaroni, cake, and family. It was a good, Jay-style day.

The 3 year old!

Let’s start at the very beginning. Joseph Argyle White:

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Here’s what we did on Jay-Day 2012:

We had planned on doing Jay’s presents before Jeff left for work in the morning so Jay could play with them all day. BUT, Jay actually decided to sleep in to 6:30, so Jeff was gone when we got up. So we called him and arranged to meet him at Sunnyview Park, half way between Grandview and Sunnyside, for lunch and presents at 11am. It was 4.5 miles from our home along the bike path. Since Jeff took the car, and I was not up for a 9 mile round trip run, I hitched up the bike trailer to Jeff’s bike. First I had to hunt around for nearly 45 minutes to find the spare key to the bike lock. Then we started the hitching and loading.

I am NOT a very good biker. I would like to be, but I just can’t get past that awful, pointy, ROCK-HARD seat. Before yesterday, I hadn’t ridden a bike in two years. And I had never ridden a street bike—we always had mountain bikes growing up. So that thing felt all wobbly and flimsy and I thought I was going to crash for at least the first mile. But then I got the hang of it. Somehow I managed to ignore the stabbing pain in my bum, and we made it to the park in 27 minutes—about 15 minutes faster than it would’ve taken running with the stroller. But running would’ve been easier on my bruised booty.

We had never been to this park before, so Jay and Rose had fun exploring the new territory.

Rose loved the rocks. Mmmm, tasty.

Jay thought the skate park area had more slides, so he tried them out.

Rose did the half-pipe.

Then Rose sat in a puddle. Did I mention that we had our first cloudy day all MONTH on Sunday, the day of the eclipse? It stayed cloudy on Jay’s birthday and later, it rained.

I adore this picture—even though it’s kind of fuzzy.

When Jeff got there, Jay went over and started opening his present before we were done saying “Hi, Daddy!” He was excited. I think he knew that we would get him something Star Wars-y. He was right!

We found these fun little Playskool Star Wars action figures on Amazon. Jay adores them. Darth and Luke started light-sabering right away.

Family birthday picnics are the best. Jeff only could stay for 15 minutes, but it was so much fun to see him in the middle of the day.

FOOD. Rose got sandwich lodged in her nose and in her sandals. She ate the pieces right out of her sandals while her mother cringed on the other side of the blanket.

Rose gave Jay a Star Wars book, and Jay couldn’t decide which thing to do—read his book or play with the “guys.” It started to drizzle, though, so we packed everything up, rolled down the rain cover on the bike trailer, and pedaled for home. It started actually RAINING real rain (not just fitful drizzles) when we were about 3 miles from home. I got soaked, but Jay and Rose were snug n dry in their little pod. Even though she was dry, Rose was NOT happy back there and my bum was killing me worse than ever. It took us 40 minutes to get home because we kept stopping. Rose cried for most of the ride home, until she fell asleep with bits of carrot in her mouth.

I biked in a dress and it got wet. My back and legs were wetter. But central Washington rain is gentle at best, so it wasn’t too bad—no Missouri monsoons here.

Jay and I spent a quiet afternoon together while Rose slept. We read all his new birthday books from Grama Meri and Grampa Charley. We looked at his Star Wars book forEVER. We made his birthday cake together. Jay likes to put his hand on the electric beater while I mix things. It makes the beater heavier and harder to move, but he feels like he’s helping so I let him.

Birthday Dinner! Jeff got home and we had the same birthday dinner Jay has had his whole life: whackeroni and cheese. Also known as nackernoni. We also had Jell-o, even though I’ve never made it before ever. It seemed kid-y. And peas, but Jay didn’t eat his peas and I didn’t force him to for once.

The Cake. I admire all mothers who figure out cute clever fun whimsical ways to do birthday cakes. I just couldn’t manage it. Fancy frilly baking is just not my forte. So sheet cake with blobby I-cut-the-hole-in-the-baggy-too-big frosting words is what Jay got. He kept saying he wanted pink on his cake, so I made one word a nice dark pink. We did make a yummy pound cake and not a boring bland box mix, and the frosting was homemade chocolate cream cheese frosting, so I felt ok about the boringness of the cake since it tasted pretty good. Jay chose the piece with the pink B on it.

We had the White grandparents, Dan and Leslie over and also dear Aunt Steph. I think this is the first time he’s actually blown out his own candles. It was so fun to have the birthday boy KNOW what was going on this year! He was so excited and enjoyed every little detail of his day.

CAKE!

PRESENTS! The Whites and Steph brought presents over, so Jay had presents, round two. Isn’t that great motorcycle wrapping paper?

A tractor! We loaded all the Star Wars guys into it right away. Jay also got more books. I know Jeff and I are GLAD for this “fresh meat” in our home library. Jay says thanks for all the cards and presents! Everyone loves Jay. We are so glad he’s in our family.

Happy Birthday to Jay!

Timing chips are not very cool after all.

When I looked up the results of the Sage Rat Race online, they showed me in 3rd place instead of second. It didn’t really matter to me that much, but I was curious how something so sleek as timing chips could be WRONG. SO, I emailed the race people. Here’s what they said:

“Welcome to the world of chip timing. With chip timing we can time the race from the time the runners crossed the start line to the time they crossed the finish line. This is the way we timed the Rat Run. What happened here is Siena Noe started a little over 12 seconds after Shaina White did, and then sometime during the race, passed Shaina. At the finish line Shaina, caught up to Siena and passed her, but did not increase the gap enough to over come the 12 seconds. So while it looked a little goofy a finish line, the results are correct.”

So I passed her fair and square, but she still beat me on a technicality because I was standing closer to the front of the group at the start and I touched the timing mat 12 seconds before she did. I didn’t beat her by more than 12 seconds at the end. Boo. Technically I was 3rd, but if there hadn’t been timing chips to mess with numbers, I would’ve been second. How are you supposed to race like that? Next time I’ll be starting at the BACK of the pack! Oh well.

New conclusion about timing chips: they take all the fun and excitement out of a good, old-fashioned footrace.

My $20 Donut

Yesterday I ran 7.4 miles at top speed so I could get a $20 donut. It was the annual Sage Rat 12k road race! Last year when Rose was 3 months old, I ran it rogue (aka without registering), but I was one of the top 3 females to finish and it was awkward in the extreme explaining that my time did not count in the official results because I didn’t pay the outrageous entry fee. So this year I bit the bullet and paid the $45 late entrance fee. Jeff and I divided it out and jokingly said that half of the entrance fee went to the t-shirt and charity donations, and the other half was for the “free” fresh blueberry donut at the finish.

Posters with fill-in-your-runner blanks were available for the fans. Jeff helped Jay make this one.

I think I have at least 2 (but probably 3) #1 fans.

Now, on to the RACE! It was 7.4 miles and they had CHIP timing! I haven’t had a chip timer since college! (and even then we only did one or two meets with timing chips) The chips were hidden in styrofoam pouches stuck to the backs of our race numbers. Cool. The time on my watch said 56:01 at the finish line. According to the official timing chip timer, I ran it in 55:57. But the “official” results seem to be wrong—they seem to have flipped my name and the girl I passed at the end. hmmm.

I was the second female to finish. I broke my 3-race winning streak! But this time I actually had people to race, so that makes my second place much more satisfying than the other firsts last year. And to be honest, I rarely run a race to win it. I usually just do it to try for a good time and enjoy being around other crazy runners.

The START. The 12k started in Grandview and went all the way to Prosser (next town over) on the bike path. They lined the starting street with CHEERLEADERS who were clapping and bouncing around chanting “L-E-T-S, G-O, LET’S GO!” while we started the race. That was a first for me—cheerleaders at a race! It felt awkward and weird.

Usually I save my grimace for the end of the race, but all that spelling and chanting brought it on early. Oh, and that girl in the stripes is the one who whooped me. I kind of like wearing race numbers nowadays because when positioned strategically, they’re the perfect size to hide my soft stomach!
Side Note: One of the worst things about being tall and lanky is nobody will just believe me when I say I have a pooch. What mother doesn’t? (besides those impossible elite athlete-moms like Paula Radcliffe, of course)

My goal was to run a 7:50 mile pace because that was the winning pace last year and I thought, why not go for a win? Well, this year the competition was faster. I ended up averaging 7:27 per mile. I was very surprised that I managed to hold that pace because 80% of my training runs have been behind a 95 lb stroller, at a 9 minute mile pace or slower (probably slower). I think that being free of that heavy stroller made ready to FLY. It felt so good to just GO, but I was definitely feeling the burn at the end there.

I beat my time from last year by 5 minutes! It’s amazing what a full year of running will do…last year at this time I only had 6 weeks of running under my belt. Two of my friends ran the race too, and it was fun to see them there. Having friends who run is nice because they don’t think you’re crazy for wanting to sprint 7 miles on a hot Saturday morning.

The sprint to the finish line! There are two clocks—one for the half marathon and one for the 12k. After I finished, the smell of the fresh donuts almost made me hurl. 20 minutes and a cup of water later, though, I was happily sinking my teeth into a steaming, sugary blueberry delight—or should I say donut.

Check out the goofy rubber medals they handed out to all finishers. I don’t really love pictures of me running, because right when I’m sure I look like Shalane Flannagan or Deena Kastor, I see my reflection in a window or a picture of myself, and I realize that I look more like a hunched, sweaty, wobbly version of…myself in man sunglasses and short hair.

I spent Saturday afternoon on the couch watching movies and dozing while my legs throbbed gently down below. Jeff patiently took over being The Head Parent while I rested. My body was kind of shocked that I forced it through such an ordeal, since it’s been months and months since the last time I raced.
Side note: if you like old-fashioned British romance tales, check out BBC’s North and South (it’s on Netflix). I loved it! Even in my reduced state yesterday afternoon, I didn’t fall asleep during it.

At church today I was the last-minute substitute chorister in Primary. It was my first time ever doing that job, but I think that the chorister’s energy should match the kids’ energy so it's FUN for everyone. And junior primary was wired today. So we jumped and stomped a lot while we sang. After that race yesterday, I was feeling kind of stiff and very thirsty hopping around up there.

Art Therapy

This week, Rose and I have been feeling a little bit…

…you know. My patient sweet Mom sure knows (I tend to call her too much when it’s one of those weeks). I was planning on constructing a moany-post about all the things that have been driving me crazy this week, interspersed with tragically cute Rose pictures like this one, but I don’t really feel like thinking about it all any more. I’ve mentioned all the annoying things before. Once was probably already too much!

Instead, let me tell about things that helped lift the grrrrr-ness.

We went to our favorite park to get OUT of our blasted apartment and have some space. Picnic!

My kids sure have inherited my insta-red face. Their cheeks FLAME in ten minutes or less of playing out in the heat. It’s cute but it always makes me think they’re overheating. So I give them plenty of water.

While Jay and Rose played, I sat in the shade under a big tree and wrote a letter to my missionary brother, Kyle. Yesterday, I was looking through old files and I found a video that made me miss him a lot:

I love Kyle. Who could help loving him after watching this video? Real men play the piano.

Anyways, the park was nice and open and shady and fun.

But it wasn’t long before we were back to this. AHHH! We’re down to the last 2 weeks of living in this apartment, and every day feels like a year. That’s exactly what Rose is thinking in this picture.

Next distraction! Buckets of water to play in. Nothing like a nice grassy front yard to play in. My poor little prisoners.

I love that enormous hat.

It wasn’t long before Jay dumped his bucket out all over the patio and the ant hills in the cracks were flooded. Then Rose came over and drank up the leftover dirty water. Shudder.

Then we had to come back inside again. Ho hum. Jay really has been so good-natured this week. Thank goodness! I’ve got to tell one memorable moment with him and the potty:

Jay ran into the bathroom and removed his shorts and underwear, but a little poo escaped before he made it onto the potty, so he took a scrap of toilet paper and was trying to pick it up when I came in. I said “just go get on the potty!” not wanting any more plops to land on the floor. So he went and did his business. I cleaned up the floor. When Jay was all done and climbing off the potty, he lost his balance and fell off his stool, landing on his bum on the floor, with one arm in the poopy potty up to the elbow. His booty left a poop-smudge on the floor where he landed. I tried not to freak out or laugh or puke. But I was chuckling and groaning and gagging all at once while I fished him out and wiped and scrubbed him down. He was quite calm and nonchalant about the whole thing. It was just his crazy mother that couldn’t figure out whether to bust up or barf.

Next up: art therapy. While Rose was taking her second nap yesterday, I got out the watercolors that I got for my birthday, and Jay and I went to town. It was surprisingly relaxing to brush blurry wet colors onto paper. Jay did these two pictures (I helped with the fuzzy eewok on the left).

I painted a sunset. It was so relaxing. This reminded me of one of my favorite things about this area: the large, sweeping SKY and the endless horizon with gorgeous sunrises and sunsets. I really felt my “inner zen” coming back while I splashed colors onto paper. How cliché—art therapy! Don’t knock it till you try it, I guess.

Another form of escape/calming/relaxation this week has been GOOD MUSIC. Something that was said in church a few weeks ago has really stuck with me. The topic was music. The speaker said that we spend so much time avoiding the bad music that it’s often easy to forget the POWER of GOOD music. Good music invites the Spirit and it’s a powerful tool against evil. I have been making an effort to turn on some good, happy music once every day. It really does help me feel better. The other night Jeff and I divided to conquer: he cleaned the kids and I cleaned the kitchen. I turned on some classical music because I was feeling stressed and tired after a long day. Jeff came out and said “are you going to your happy place?” Ha, it’s true though, good music gets me to my “happy place” faster than anything else.

Good books are my favorite escape. I recently discovered Richard Peck’s young adult books (through our book club). They are cute and clever and happy. Jay and I have found a treasure trove of awesome story books at our library. Here’s a list of the cream of our crop, if you want to check `em out:

Hey, Pancakes! –Tamson Weston
Stuck –Oliver Jeffers
My Dog is a s Smelly as Dirty Socks –Hanoch Piven
Shaggy Dog and the Terrible Itch –David Bedford
Big Chickens –Leslie Helakoski
Oh, Ducky! –David Slonim
POUCH! –David Ezra Stein
Bubba and Beau, Best Friends –Kathi Appelt
Toot and Puddle –Hollie Hobby
and any books by Judy Sierra

There are so many more, but these are our more recent discoveries. If I was really detailed, I’d attach a hyperlink to each of these titles, but I’ll let you discover them for yourself. Picture books are so much fun. We read at least 5 every day.

We’re doing our best to smile through the cranky-crowdedness!

Sometimes it’s easier just to wait it out.