Sleeping in My Bed Tonight

I just spent eight hours in a hot car with my three kids and a bunch of stuff.  

We made the journey back home today, after our two week friend/family-a-thon.  I would have driven the I-5 but was worried about Thelma making it over the Grapevine in the heat.  (We've decided to name the beater Thelma - kinda makes her special that way.)  For those of you who don't know, the Grapevine is a long stretch of the 5 freeway which goes up and over mountains to take you from L.A. to about 200 miles of desolation.  


Anyway, to avoid the possibility of a pregnant lady and three kids madly escaping a wagon inferno amidst endless fields of kindling, I opted to drive home via the 101 (always makes me hum,  "Ventura Highway, in the Summer time..").  I love driving the 101.  It's lined with all of my favorites: beaches, farms, quaint towns, vineyards...   Good for the soul.  Even the kids seemed soothed by it.


It shouldn't have taken eight hours to make the trip but Mama had to take lots of "potty breaks" (Grrrr), which inevitably resulted in Thelma-refueling, gum-buying, and seat-renegotiating.  Throw in traffic and collection of the dogs and a six hour trip was successfully extended to eight.


Still, my kids were fantastic.  I didn't have one frazzled-mom moment.  A notably amazing feat.


In truth, I was dreading today.  Not because of the drive, I actually love road trips; but because it means I have to go back to facing life... alone.  I know I'm not entirely alone, but somewhere over the years I drew into myself and abandoned that social butterfly I once was.  I'm sure there are great explanations for this, and I'm certain that my therapists are hard at work solving it for me.  In the mean time, I'm back home, alone, after two weeks of soaking in the love and support of time-tested friends and family.

***Long Sigh***

So, here I am.  These first few hours haven't been bad.  In fact, I was surprised by how good it felt to drive down the familiar streets of Pleasanton.  And stepping into our sweet little home was... nice.  The kids helped unload the car then bolted off to reconnect with the neighborhood gang.  I didn't mind.  They needed to run and yell a bit.  I opened the windows to let the cool breeze in, plugged in the chinese lanterns in the garden, loved on the pups, and did the preliminary sorting of the stuff.  Feels good to be here.  It's mine.  Ours.  Home.

A few visions from my Mom's garden...

If all dentist's chairs were in gardens I might have fewer cavities.

Just Me and My Boys

Kinsey was gone visiting family this week so it was just me and the boys.  They get bored without their sister, but we managed to keep busy anyway.


They washed everything on the patio with Palm Olive and the garden hose... everything;






Built domino/matchbox car towers (complete with lego man topper);











Mastered puzzles;










I took them out for scooter rides (well, I waddled, they rode).  






My attempt to alleviate my guilt from all of the tasty baked goods which Biscuit has been demanding.  


The boys jump, spin, race, yell accusations of cheating, seek out every possible puddle in which to splash muddy water all over themselves.   

And how I love the trees... 

We took advantage of the cool evenings with a fire and some marshmallow roasting.  






Still having issues with billowing smoke but the gooey goodness was worth it.

It was a good week.

Tid Bits; To Do's; Notes to Self; Epiphanies Along This Week's Road to Awesome

When it comes to driving:

• ALWAYS put the cap on after filling the car with oil.
• There is such a thing as TOO much oil.  ))shrug(( Who knew?
• NEVER use the wipers to clean oil spatter off of the windshield.
• Police officers DO give tickets to pregnant ladies in beater cars.
• Country roads with windows down; very entertaining...

Other notes on general living:

• Three kids, three dogs, a guinea pig, and a pregnant lady absolutely CAN live well in a two-bedroom/one-bathroom house (as long as everyone showers and takes appropriate potty breaks).

• To Do: Learn how to build fire sans billowing smoke.
• Kids love roasting marshmallows.
• Spare marshmallows must be hidden.

• Never feed a dog marshmallows.
• To D0: Install doggie door.

• I love Trader Joe's.  
• Trader Joe's mayonnaise is not OK. 

• Next time kid's shoe goes missing, check the storm drain...

And what did YOU learn this week?

Patio Garden Play

Well, it's here.  

Summer.  

At noon last Friday, my kids climbed into my hot car after a half-day of classroom celebrations concluding their school year.  They had been counting down the days for weeks so I expected their excitement and energy.  What I didn't expect were the tears.  That's right.  We spent the rest of that afternoon wiping tears, looking at classroom photos and playing Bailey's class dance CD, which we had the pleasure of learning the routine to.  (I can now do the 'running man'.)


But the tears are all gone now.  At least the tears of sadness are.  The boredom is another thing all together.  Two plus months of summer heat, a small two bedroom house, no wii or X-box, limited cable, one computer and no money.  What to do?  What.... to..... do?

We decided to kick off the festivities by planting a patio garden.  So, after a hot, semi-chaotic, patience-testing, FUN filled trip to Lowe's, we plunged our fingers into the dirt (or manure - as my kids referred to it). 

I allowed each of the kids to select their own garden baby.  


Kinsey chose a watermelon and a cucumber.  Bailey opted for a cantaloupe.  Noah went for the strawberry.  










I added two tomato plants and some herbs to the mix.  

Considering that my patio is not large, I suspect we will feel a bit overtaken with sprawling vines by summer's end.  






No matter.  I'm looking at this as more of an experiment than a well thought out plan.



Regardless of the outcome, we have created a living, inspiring space to sit (or rock) in, share and laugh in, roast marshmallows in, and evolve in.

Pumpkin Soup

Fall is teasing me. It's here, but, not really. Not yet. It finally seems to be cooling off, though, so maybe...

I have been excited to see the pumpkins and all the fall store displays. Already made my first stop by Williams Sonoma to smell and taste their treats. I even pulled out my own seasonal decor. Wreath on the door, lit twine pumpkin, and nubby fall branches with crimson leaves. I don't know, still waiting for the cold weather outside and the warm feelings inside.

My kids have learned to love this season as it seems to be the one time of the year that mom actually enjoys cooking. Cornbread, pumpkin bread, pumpkin pie, pumpkin soup, (ya, pumpkin anything) potato soup, AND the most kick-ass cottage cheese loaf you've ever tasted.

Anyway, as I'm writing this I'm eating some left-over pumpkin soup, so thought I'd share the very simple recipe with you. Hope you will enjoy it with me.

Pumpkin Soup

Serves 4

Step One:

Saute together

2 Tb Butter

1/2 cp Chopped Onion

Step Two:

Add

2 cp Chicken Stock

1 Large Potato Chopped

1/2 tsp Salt

1/8 tsp Pepper

1/8 tsp Thyme

Boil until the potato is tender then you can either blend for creamy consistency, or mash for chunky. I kind of like it chunky.

Step Three:

Add

14 oz Can Plain Pumpkin

2 cp Milk

Heat and blend thoroughly.

Step Four:

Add sour cream for garnish and flavor.

It's A Dog's Life

Meet Annabelle.

She's a Boston Terrier. She somewhat resembles a bobble-head. As the photo might suggest, she's a bit larger than life. Always on the move, always in the center, ALWAYS in your face. Probably the most aggressively playful dog you'll ever meet. We love her dearly, but her life-long issues with intestinal distress have earned her the nick-name, SmellyBelly.

This is Oliver.

He's 8 pounds of pure man-dog. People at the dog park refer to him as the little general. He has claimed Danny as his human. He is the dog that finds hours of entertainment in a roll of toilette paper or one of my favorite magazines. Since he was neutered in June, he is no longer LORD OF ALL, but, his big sad eyes win him the affections of almost anyone he meets. His size is the inspiration for his nickname, Smalliver.

The Grand Dame: Gracie

Gracie was our first fur-baby. We brought her home, Christmas, 1999. She was such a playful puppy. Took us about 3 years to potty train her. "Make, Gracie, Make!" Now, she likes to sleep. Her favorite perch is on our striped ottoman in the family room. She rests there most of the day. I watch her and wish I could slow the clock a little. She's 10 years old this month. How many more years do we have together. I'll cherish every one. For no reason what-so-ever, her nickname is Gracie-Facie.

Living in a town home requires daily outings to the local dog park. We make quite a statement when we arrive on the scene. Annabelle usually bolts in, runs a few dogs over and freaks out a few unsuspecting citizens. Oliver mends the fences by winning over everyone's heart with his charms (and unsolicited mouth kisses). Gracie does her business and then slowly meanders over to a spot under one of the benches, or at some kind stranger's feet for a little love.

We follow this routine every day. Most of the regulars at the park have become familiar with our crew.
We often

remark how well we all know each other's dogs but none of us really know many of the human's names.

My kids join me from time to time. Noah loves to run all of the dogs around the park. He's always making new friends. Completely uninhibited. Sometimes Bailey ventures down for a while, but he prefers to keep his interactions to a minimum. Occasionally I can pry Kinsey away from her tweenage preoccupations long enough to come with me and see some sunlight. She's always glad she did.

I've always been more of a cat person. Never thought I'd have three dogs. They love me. They want to be with me all the time. They're at my feet when I cook dinner and clean up. They soak in the sun when I plant flowers on the balcony. They cry for me when I walk beyond their reach. The world could be against me, but not them.

I'll do my best to deserve it.