Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

play that funky music, white boy.

cash loves music - he loves rocking to a beat.
his favorite time to listen is in the morning though. i'll put the laptop on the dinig room table and crank it up, while he bobs his head in between bites of banana.
he prefers bob marley, michael franti and joan jett.
i'd say the chances of us listening to 'kid music' are slim.
thank god.

Monday, March 29, 2010

naps are for babies.

cash is down to one nap a day now (barely.)
[[tear]] i miss that 45 minute nap in the morning.
BUT he still goes to bed at 7 and sleeps straight through to 7 the next morning.
so really? can't complain.
or rather, SHOULDN'T complain.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

bacon - it's what's for dinner.

if you've known me for longer than five minutes, you know that i have a near adulterous love affair with bacon.
i love me some pork.

when i was little, i didn't eat much meat (read:any) with the exception of pork.
more specifically, bacon.
i would eat bacon all day, every day if i could.
it also didn't help that my dad raised pigs every year to slaughter and eat.
not only are pigs tasty, they're cute too.
in a smelly, foul sort of way.

we probably had a dozen pigs growing up, all of which i named (ham and bone, bacon and egg, pork and chop, simon (he was a usually got pigs in pairs, but he was all by himself. why i named him simon of all things, i don't know) and my personal favorite, porthos, athos and charlie sheen (because neither of us could remember the name of the third musketeer))
there was one pig in particular that i will never forget:

dad decided we were only going to get one pig that year.
when he brought him home, i couldn't believe it: he was the scrawniest pig i'd ever seen.
most of the pig pen fence was wire, but on one side it was wood slat.
"he isn't going to be able to fit through those slots, is he dad?"
"no, he's too big for that."
"are you sure?"
no sooner had i said that when i spotted that scrawny little runt squeeze through the slotted fence and run, squealing towards the woods back behind our house.
dad looked at me.
"well, shit." and took off running, me panting after him.

[[let me just take a second to say how FREAKING HILARIOUS it was to watch a grown man sprinting at full speed after this piglet that couldn't have weighed more than 15 pounds. and the pig was winning. i about died laughing.]]

so there's dad and this pig, running flat out for about a quarter of a mile, when suddenly the pig began to zig zag. and then weave back and forth. and finally turned a complete 180 and started running towards us.
and then, just as suddenly as this whole charade started, the pig flopped over on its side like it had a heart attack, legs sticking straight up in the air.
i thought to myself, 'great - we've exercised it to death.'
dad skidded to a stop in front of him, bent down and then burst out laughing.
the pig wasn't dead - he was exhausted. he may as well have been holding a white flag in his hoove because he? had. given. up.
by the time i got to them (having collapsed in a fit of laughter about halfway there) they were both spread eagle on the ground, gasping for breath.
"so, he's too big to fit through the slots, eh?"
((i don't really remember what he said to me, but it included a lot of eye rolling and sighing.))

that was the pig i named simon.
he was one of the funniest animals we'd ever had.
dad particularly liked him, almost not wanting to slaughter him when it came time.
simon would sprint in circles around his pen every time dad came out the back door.
and dad would walk straight to the pig pen, grab a big rake and scratch Simon's back with it. it was both ridiculous and really awesome.

i can add this to the ever-growing list of things that will never be the same.
i'll never have another set of pigs to name (and if you even THINK about mentioning i could get some of my own, I WILL SLAP YOU.)
i'll never get to troop out to the pig pen to watch dad show off his latest.
on the upside, i'll never have to smell THAT SMELL whenever i go to the house.
or hear the words, 'i need your help outside for a minute.' (which meant 5 HOURS OF BACK BREAKING, CHILD ENSLAVEMENT.)
even so - i'm going to miss these things.
and i miss him.

Friday, March 26, 2010

iko iko.

this reminds me of summer.
of seemingly endless drives to pick lisa up from school.
of car trips with dad.

it's been on my playlist, on repeat :]

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

SHAMELESS back-patting ahead.

we went to a house warming party on sunday up in portland. that in itself made me break out in a sweat.
hour long drive + new place + new people + likely the only one under 20 in attendance = totally freaked out.
and you know what? cash was AWESOME. honestly, the most well behaved i've ever seen him act.
i looked at nate about halfway through the party and said, "you know? i guess we ARE doing something right. look at how good he is being!"

now if only i could get him to act like that at home...

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

i wish he was still here, simply so i could say 'see! told you so.'

this made me think of dad.
as soon as he found out we were pregnant, i could see that glint in his eye.
that glint that said, 'YES! someone else i can take flying!'
he even pulled out the, 'but the carseat will fit in the plane just fine!' card.
he rolled his eyes.
and said, ' well, me either. but still, it would be FUN!'
he was such a nut.
in a good way.

Monday, March 22, 2010

lover boy.

cash and khalea, a couple weekends ago

affectionate just doesn't seem like a strong enough word to describe cash.
he's affection, on steroids.
on any given day, he showers me with hundreds of sloppy, open mouthed kisses.
he kisses me after he gets in trouble.
he kisses me after i give him something he asked for.
he kisses me when i ask for a smooch.
and kisses me about a thousands times in between with some big hugs thrown in, just to mix things up.
not that i'm complaining - i love every single drooly kiss.
i'm just not sure where he learned it from.
nate and i aren't THAT affectionate. (though, when nate gives me a kiss in front of cash, he has to give me a kiss immediately - it's like a kiss war.)

the first time we took him to the park, he immediately chased after every little girl he saw, mouth open, arms outstretched, ready to kiss.
he even landed a few of them (one of the moms looked SUUUPER annoyed - i mean, really? at least he didn't punch her in the face. it could be worse, lady.)
it was pretty freaking adorable. and embarrassing.
he does get a little...overzealous with his ardor.
stuart learned that the hard way.

i'm not sure where our little lover boy picked this up from, but i'm glad he's the kid spreading the love on the playground.
for now.
it's not going to be as cute when he's 14.

Saturday, March 20, 2010


cash --

i wish every day could be like today.
after spending much of the morning running errands like we do every saturday, we came home and had a snack on the front porch.
played with your big tonka truck.
then spent the next 2 HOURS laying on a blanket in the yard.
we talked about the blue sky and the birds flying above.
you saw your first airplane (at least the first that you could focus on.)
you spent 10 minutes jabbering away, motioning with your hands and pacing back and forth on the blanket - you were telling me a story and you had my undivided attention.
you ran your fingers through my hair.
and laid down with your head on my tummy.
you gave me about a thousand kisses.
and i sang 'leaving on a jet plane' to you (you laughed - which was kind of insulting.)
when i dreamt about being a mom, this afternoon was exactly what i had envisioned.
it was perfection.
i want to remember it forever.

love you, little pumpkin

Friday, March 19, 2010

my weakness.

i'm not a huge candy person.
i mean, i love chocolate as much as the next girl, but it's not something i NEED to have in the house at all times.
except for at easter time.
because easter candy is hands down, no argument THE BEST CANDY EVER.
caramel filled cadbury eggs, robin eggs, shock tarts shaped like ducks and bunnies, cadbury mini eggs, reese's peanut butter cup eggs...ohhh, the possibilities are endless.
and sure, it means i've gained five pounds since target opened up its easter candy aisle.
but it also means that when cash throws a giant lego in my general direction, i don't pick it up and whip it back at him.
yes, i do realize i'm bribing MYSELF with candy.
and no, i don't care.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

i love your ways.

cash --

you are becoming the coolest little guy around - seriously.
i love the deep, straight from the gut, belly laugh that you get when something really gets you going.

your ribs are the magic tickle-ish spot.
you like to horse around and wrestle with me.
you can now sign 'milk' and 'please.'
you also blow kisses and wave goodbye.
you are no longer obsessed with jungle book (hoooooorayyyyy!)
you are starting to pitch a fit when i go to put you in your carseat. the kind of fit that involves screaming and flailing and arching your back. its all kinds of NOT awesome.
i can see THREE new teeth coming in.
you have nightmares that cause you to wake up screaming hysterically in the middle of the night. it absolutely breaks my heart. and when i pick you up to comfort you, you lay your head on my shoulder and grip my arms as tight as you can - i love those moments.
you love to 'help' me wash the dishes. it's not so much helping as it is getting water freaking EVERYWHERE. but it can keep you occupied for HOURS, so i'll let that slide.

you love to go to petsmart with me and watch the mice run on their little wheels (you will NEVER have one as a pet though. sorry dude.)
sometimes i'll do something silly to make you laugh and you look at me like, seriously? you are so laaaaame, mom. complete with an eyeroll. that's going to be fun in 12 years.
some days you can be such a cranky, evil little monkey. but most of the time you are pure awesome, awesome-ness just drips right out of your pores.

and you know what else? i really love you.
so much so that even when i get to have some 'me' time, i still miss your squishy little face.
so much so that when i walk into your room in the morning and you light up with the BEST SMILE ON THE PLANET when you see me - i smile back. (and your mom smiling in the morning is no easy feat.)

i love you, little pumpkin.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

it's like therapy, but cheaper.

i'm sure it has escaped no one's attention that i've been writing about my dad more.
something has changed for me - i've gone from not being able to even think of him without crying to wanting to talk about him all the time.
it's been almost a year since he left us and suddenly, i feel like i'm in a mad rush to write down every story, every memory i have about dad.
he was such a spectacular story teller - there are stories about my grandpa (his dad) that i made him tell me over and over again.
and i'm so glad that i did - i heard them so often that i can now repeat them myself.
i never once thought about the possibility of him not being around to tell them anymore.

i've been doing this for awhile now - i have a journal half full of stories and memories about dad that i don't want to fade away.
i was apprehensive to write about them here though.
mostly because my sweet, sweet mother reads this blog every day.
and i would rather walk over hot coals bare foot then cause her more pain.
hopefully i won't know the sadness that she feels for a long, long time. (unless of course, nate pisses me off and i smother him. but that's a different story.)
but would hate to add to it by telling stories about dad.

that being said, i always want to remember these moments. to write them down, re-tell them, laugh.
i will never forget the day of my grandpa bob's funeral.
it was halloween and would have normally been out trick or treating.
instead, our whole family sat around the big dinner table in the farmhouse, laughing and telling stories about grandpa.
remembering just how awesome he was.
someone called the house in the midst of all this, wishing to give their condolences. my uncle raymond actually had to shush us because we were so loud.
that, right there, is one of the most vivid memory i have of that day.
not the crying, or the sadness or the mobs of people - but our family, together, remembering him.

someday, i'll do something with these stories.
but for now, they're here.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

this is lovely.

i've been on an etsy bender lately - this has to be my favorite art find so far.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

the first flight.

the first time i flew with dad, i lied to him.
i told him i wasn't nervous.
truth was, i was FREAKED OUT.
i trusted him - i knew he wouldn't put me in any danger.
then again, this is the man that brought his 8 year old daughter along to capture (read:kill) two rabid raccoons that were threatening our cats, so his idea of danger and my idea of danger were vastly different.
i remember standing outside the plane, watching him do his routine checks.
climbing in through the tiny door and listening to dad explain how to work the buckles.
putting the giant headset on and adjusting the mike so he could hear me.
the whole time my heart was pounding out of my chest.
we taxied to the runway, dad looked over at me and said, "you ready?"
i nodded.
he hit the throttle and in seconds we were in the air.
i'm pretty sure i gasped as soon as the wheels left the ground.
the feeling was surreal. amazing.
i'll never forget it.
and i'll never forget dad's smile when i looked over at him.
pure, sweet joy. he had that smile every time we flew.
together, we flew to marysville, san jose, manzanita, corvallis, mt. hood, the flying m ranch, scappoose and pacific city.
we always landed with some hilarious story to tell (like the time one of the tanks ran out of gas over shasta lake - he looked over at me and said, "hope you can swim." it was NOT funny.)
and now, every time i see blue skies, i dream of flying with dad again.

Friday, March 12, 2010

i would be mushy, but that makes me want to vomit.

nate and i work together at the restaurant every day during the week.
i'd like to say that it always works, but that wouldn't be entirely honest.
more like, it works 85% of the time (which is still a whole hell of a lot better than none of the time.)
we have a pretty good understanding about what our roles are (meaning i deal with the front of the house and he better BUTT OUT. ditto for me for the back of the house.)
and we're working on the best way to communicate with one another about stuff for the business (ie, sarcastic, snippy remarks = not so good.)
and regardless, sometimes we just argue. and further convince our employees to NEVER get married.
but he always gives me a kiss before he leaves (and i tease him, "do you always kiss your waitresses before you leave?" his answer? "of course.")
and at the end of the day, we're pretty lucky to be in this together.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

the anti-germ-a-phobe

i've never exactly been germ-phobic. even after having cash.
case in point? and i know my mom is going to be so grossed out when she reads this (hi mom! aren't you so glad you gave birth to me?)
cash stuck his hand in the toilet the other day. yup. hand. in. the. toilet. before you FREAK OUT, i washed his hands with soap directly after 'the incident.'
but it wasn't one of those, 'oh my god, i need to get a child safety lock for the toilet!' moments.
it was more of a, 'wow - when did i become such a hippie?' moment.
i have never once sanitized his bottles or his toys (with the exception of washing his beloved ellie when she fell in a mud puddle.)
i have been known to pick crackers he has flung from the cart at wal-mart off the floor and hand them back to him (to be fair, the wal-mart i go to is pretty clean. as wal-marts go, that is.)
the dog licks him in the face ALL THE TIME, he frequently picks milk jugs out of the trash to play with and has eaten his fair share of rocks and dirt.
and you know what? he's been sick ONCE.
hippie? maybe so.
but he's a healthy son of a hippie.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

[floral] obsession.

i must be ready for spring, because floral patterns have my heart!

[[all images found via]]

Friday, March 5, 2010

dude, my parents are LAAAAME.

cash - someday you really ARE going to think we are big lame, lame-o's.
but for the record - right now? we are the coolest people you know. (besides grandma.)
so all this eye rolling and grump facing stuff has GOT TO STOP.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

the last flight.

warning: if you are feeling sad today, you probably don't want to read this. frankly, i had a hard time writing it. but this trip to the coast spurred a memory that i had nearly forgotten.

the very last flight i took with my dad almost didn't happen.
when i showed up at the hangar, he was doing his routine checks on the engine and the plane. he poked his head up from the engine compartment and asked, "do you have a rubber band or a hair tie?"
i went completely white and said, "no, and i'm NOT flying with you."
he stared at me blankly for a second and then started laughing hysterically. [[rolling his eyes]] "i don't need it for the ENGINE. the foam cover on my mouthpiece came off and i need something to hold it on!"

it took a lot of coaxing to convince me to go through with our plans to fly to pacific city for lunch.
it was a beautiful day - cold, but completely clear and sunny. the flight over seemed to take no time at all, with dad gabbing in my ear the whole time. i wasn't ever super talkative in flight - i think he might have taken it the wrong way. i just loved the silence - the time to completely take in the view. also, i have the tendency to get motion sick, so it was my defense mechanism so i wouldn't barf all over the cabin.

i'll never forget the sensation of flying over the ocean. we didn't get far off from the coast line, but just enough so that when i looked down i saw nothing but blue, choppy water. it made me a little nervous, i'll admit. but it was so breathtakingly beautiful that it was easy to look past.

we flew along the coast for awhile, taking a couple trips around haystack rock so i could take pictures, then headed for the airstrip. i had only flown with dad a handful of times, but something about the runway made me take a second glance. it looked a little...short.

"dad? why does it look so...short?"
"oh, it's a little shorter than the others we've landed on."

and all of the sudden, the plane started to turn sideways, so that my window was facing the runway.

"uhhh, dad?" i must have looked pretty worried, because he turned to look at me and bursted out laughing that great, boisterous laugh he had. and then he hit the throttle and we pulled out of our descent and away from the runway.

"have i not told you about 'the slip' before?"
[[stuttering]] "does this LOOK like the face of a person in the know!?"
[[more laughter]] "it's a maneuver to slow the plane down if you're coming in too fast."

the second go-around we landed no problem. he laughed the entire time because i was so mad at him for not explaining himself.
once we landed, we headed for Fat Freddy's, a crappy little diner directly at the end of the runway.
once inside, i wandered around to look at all the newspaper clippings hanging on the walls. when i got to one about a plane crash, i was a little startled. but not as startled as when i realized that ALL the newspaper clippings were about planes that crashed on the VERY SAME runway we just landed on.

"DAD! did you see these? did you know about the reputation this runway has?"
[[smiling]] "did i not tell you that either?"

i could have killed him. he thought it was hilarious. and explained that i would have never agreed to go if he had told me. which is probably true.
after lunch, we headed 'downtown' to look in all the shops. one gallery in particular, filled with all this strange colorful art, completely captivated him. we must have spent an hour there, wandering around and making sarcastic comments about the stuff that was the weirdest. we just went for lunch, but lunch always turned into an all day affair with dad. i didn't mind one bit.

that was the last time dad and i flew together. it was a trip that i had all but forgotten (except for the slip - i teased him that little maneuver was the reason i wouldn't fly with him anymore) but all these little details came back to me when we went to pacific city this weekend. when we drove past the dapper frog gallery (the very one that we had so much fun in) i nearly cried.

pacific city was his very favorite coastal town - he and mom took an anniversary trip there every year. it felt so strange to be there without him. at the same time, i'm so glad we went there instead of somewhere else.

the day we left, nate was cleaning out the nightstand in the room we stayed in when he found, on the very bottom shelf, a single ping pong ball. which wouldn't have been strange, except that the house didn't have a ping pong table (and didn't look like it ever had.) all the houses we've stayed in previously did - in fact, dad played many a cutthroat tournament against his brothers. i think it was his way of telling us he really was there with us.
i think i'll keep it for awhile.


to match my mood.

...not really. i'm feeling better today. mostly....

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

the here and now.

we had a fabulous time at the coast this weekend.
it was just the sort of mini vacation that we needed.
i have lots of stories to tell and pictures to edit, but my heart just isnt in it today.
some unexpected expenses are stressing me out.
and i'm missing my dad fiercely.
not exactly the way i wanted to start out my month.