Road Trip

Growing up, moving on

Today brought a hallmark for our family - at least for me.  I gave notice to Rose's preschool that she would be leaving in June.  

Not really a big event in the overall scheme of things, but honestly, it felt like a big deal to me.  I mean, geesh, she's going to Kindergarten.  My baby - my once-fat-little-tub-of-butter (the doctor and I still joke about the feeding clinics when she was a scrawny infant!), my screamer (yikes!), my fearless girly-girl who loves bugs, Hello Kitty and crackle nail polish equally, my already-reading, wants-to-take-music-lessons, girl-after-my-own-heart is almost officially a BIG KID.  Wow.  

I read an article the other day that talked about how children lose their "cuteness" at four-and-a-half, when they officially become kids.  Is it the bossy, in-your-face, crying, dramatic, must-always-have-an-opinion-about-everything demeanor that makes a parent say, "How annoying!" instead of "How adorable?!" No, I don't think that's what's behind the change in the sense of cuteness.  In fact, it's the positive beautiful maturity that comes with age . . . knowing what you like (cauliflower, anyone?  Yea!), knowing what you don't (mushrooms are on the outs at our house), feeling proud about wearing clothes that reflect EXACTLY how you feel (stripes and plaid today - all right!), and holding your own against a brother who delights in cherishing and tormenting you at the same time (EVAAAANNNNN!!!!!!).  It's feeling that you're in charge of something -- even if it's just the puppy -- and delighting in your own independence and abilities.  It's riding a bike and whistling at the same time.      

Our Rose, we love her. Even if she is growing up and moving on.  

 

 

"The times, they are a-changin' . . . "

While I have composed at least a dozen blogs in my head over the past several months, I realize that is little solace to those looking for new, juicy tidbits about our lives since it's been five months since my last post.  Definitely time for a change.  

In fact, that's what today's missive is all about: change.  

Since June, the Porter family has been all about change.  I like to think of it as keeping us on our toes, staying clear of the inevitable groove, shaking things up, etc.  We're still trying to come to terms with the resulting disconcernment, but I think all in all, it's been a good thing.  Here's a quick list of some of the notable differences:  

1.  I quit my corporate job and have been home with my kids for two months.  Honestly, as happy as I've been in a long time.  I'm well-rested, exercising, eating well and most important - much more in tune with my kids and family.  They might argue that they'd prefer a little less "mom time," but I know it's been a good thing.  I will likely pick up some contract work in the fall, but don't have any plans to return full-time to the workforce anytime soon.  If that "job of a lifetime" appears someday, I might, but for now, we're a stay-at-home-mom kind of family.

2.  Evan is officially a "dude."  His summer has been consumed by doing, inventing and thinking about what's "cool."  This includes:

• making friendship bands (he's sporting at least half a dozen on his wrists at all times)
• teaching himself how to ride a unicycle
• pulling his shorts down past his bum (thankfully, he pulls them back up again once he gets the desired reaction)
• making up a secret language, handshake, etc., with his friend, Will
• doing the camp circut where every camp was "awesome," including Lego Robotics (his team won four of the five competitions), Boy Scout Camp (he got to shoot a BB gun), Bike Camp (we up "death hill" without stopping, using his gears), and Camp Collins with Will (five-night sleep-away camp, one shower all week, swimming every day, climbing wall, etc.).  
• graduating to a more senior swimming class (and away from the all-class "Motorboat" songfest that happens at the end of the session for those poor souls still learning in the shallow end)
• "cracking" on command (one of those things I shouldn't laugh at in case it encourages him to fart more, but truth be told, it's funny.  His delivery is usually prefaced with "wait for it, wait for it . . ." then boom.  It always makes me smile)
• developing a "cool" speaking stype that includes "whassup??" "hey, baby" "dude" and "nuh-uh"  All done with a slow, sarcastic lilt and accompanying hand signals (finger shooting, etc.)
• cutting his hair (see pics below).  To be clear, this happened only when he realized he could go to a special barbershop where a woman would cut his hair while he munched on popcorn, drank soda, and watched whatever he wanted on cable.  He was sold.  
• Losing his braces.  I call him, "Mr. Hollywood" because his teeth are so straight and white.  

  3.  Rose has also seen some changes in her single-minded quest to be seen as a "big kid":  

• she goes to school three days a week, instead of five.  This can be challenging for all of us on those days when she cranks up the loud/whine/cry/tantrum/four-year-old meter, but most of the time, we try to do fun things that she wants to do.  Examples include elaborate make-believe in her room, seeing friends, baking cookies, playing a game or reading.  
• she is develping a unique sense of humor.  She's already got excellent comedic timing and can deliver the punchline of a joke quite nicely.  She usually steals her material from her favorite show "Phinneas and Ferb" or her brother.  Anything that makes Evan laugh is fair game (unfortunately, this includes body sounds, which really gets him going).  Thankfully, she hasn't yet mastered "cracking." 
• she went to a "real" camp.  She went to the Little House on the Prairie camp, where she learned to make shampoo and ice cream, sew and weave.  She was most interested in the nature walks and discussion of insects and plants.  
• she is growing her hair long.  For four years, I managed to keep Rose's hair cut fairly short.  Now she wants to wear it long for braids and ponytails.  Great in theory, but oh my, the battles we've had about washing and combing her lovely locks.  Let's just say that we now wash with a special de-tangling shampoo and use creamrinse.  This seems to have done the trick, but I'm not sure how much longer her "I want hair as long as Rapunzel"-phase will last.
• she is learning to read.  She can sound out words and is constantly working on writing notes about her drawings.  "How do you spell . . . " is a common theme these days.  
• she took dance classes: "Intro to ballet and tap." I think tap is more her style, but she enjoyed both.  Very cute. 

Not to be outdone, Bill has had far fewer but a more dramatic personal change (before and after pics below):  

The kids were unsure how to take it.  "Are you still my daddy?" wondered Rose, who has never known him without a beard.  Takes a bit of getting used to!  

Our change-focused summer has also meant more family time -- for us alone, but more often with our extended family and friends.  More on that soon, but here are a couple of pics from the recent weekend where together with several thousand other like-minded folks, we did the annual Bridge Pedal.  Thirteen miles, six bridges, numerous leg cramps -- good times all around!

 

 


Change is good!   

Top 'O the Morning to You . . .

Today was an exciting day here in our little corner of the Pacific Northwest: Daylight Savings Time kicked in and the neighborhood St. Patrick's Day parade, well, paraded.  

Now, there are certainly some quirky things about living in Portland (The Church of Elvis, bike "boxes," and everything you see in Portlandia), but one of the most endearing has to be the tradition of neighborhood parades. Today was the St. Patrick's Day parade, which travels about 10-ish blocks from Evan's school east along Hancock St., almost half way between our house and the Fred Meyer store.  It was started by a local family that obviously loves the holiday (banners hang across the street, green things abound in their yard -- not all of them natural), who manage to get all sorts of Irish lovers, local businesses and public safety types to join them.  There are so many police in fact, that it feels a wee bit funeral-esque, with the lights flashing, streets shut down, etc.  

Evan participated this year with his Cub Scout troop, which served as color guard and were the first of many participants to throw candy to the crowd (although "hurl" might be more descriptive of how Evan performed his candy duties - see the boy in the red raincoat in the first picture below).  They were followed by the Irish Wolfhounds, Irish Setters, a portion of the Grant High School marching band, the truck of "Pat's," a seemingly random Pepsi delivery truck and loads of folks dressed in green, green and more green.  This year, the Weinermobile was absent, as was the beer truck, but it was still full of energy and drama.  

Unlike past years when it really has been quite sunny, today it was very wet and rainy.  That didn't slow us down -- we even had a brunch with the Snussels and Andersons to celebrate in advance.  We enjoyed this first real sign of spring and the conversation with friends and neighbors after a long winter. Despite the rain, it was fun.  We even noticed a bit of color popping up within the green lawns - daffodils, crocuses and hyacinths. In March! 

Yet another reminder of why we love living in Portland.

  

 

The perfect day

The quintessential "perfect day" is something that seems just slightly out of reach.  Yes, it's easy to imagine all of those things that might make a day especially lovely (sleeping in, for example, or knitting to your heart's content without anybody asking you to stop and do something else), but as adults, there's always a little bit of "have to" on a day's list that keeps hedonistic perfection at bay. That is, unless your an unnamed single friend who lives every day of her life like this (except when she's working) OR if you're four years old.  

By all accounts, Rose has a commanding personality and demands attention almost every moment of the day.  Her normal toddler egocentric tendencies are tempered by the fact that she usually has to bend to the wants of another, be it her brother, parents, teachers or friends. This week, however, Rose had the chance to stay home from school and hang out with Bill's father (also named Bill), and his wife Sarah for an entire day.  All by herself.  It was a very special day because they designed the whole thing to be exactly what Rose wanted. All. Day. Long.  

Wow!  The very thought of it made me exhausted, deeply appreciative and a wee bit jealous all at once (time for this type of thing is in short supply for me at the moment, but that's another story).  As you might expect, it was positively thrilling for her to recount all the ways that she got to drive the day's agenda and the fun she had with her adoring fans. 

In fact, the day was so successful that Rose embraced the idea of drawing a picture to thank her grandparents and to capture the highlights:  

Some of the "perfect day" activities were: 

1.  Choosing her own outfit (which included a scull and crossbones t-shirt elegantly worn over a striped turtleneck and highwater soccer pants (hand-me-downs from her brother); 

2.  Baking a pink angel food cake with pink frosting with her grandfather; 

3.  Having a birthday party for her stuffed animal, Torchick (yes, you read that right - he's a Pokeman character) with her grandmother, with all (read: dozens) of her other dolls decked out in silly-bands sitting around her table in her bedroom; 

4.  Spending loads of time at the park, playing on all of the swings (her favorite park activity); 

5.  Watching Evan kick the soccer ball outside; 

6.  Snuggling with everyone on the couch to watch her favorite show, Hello Kitty;

7.  Eating dinner at a restaurant, where she got to have one of her favorite dishes, fried rice.  

Rose can be a bit daunting in large doses.  However, her grandparents have proven once again that a little effort to get to know her pays huge dividends.  Despite the tantrums, the pouting, the screaming, the stomping and the general fuss, Rose is bright, funny, creative, caring, loyal and eager to try anything and everything -- especially with those she loves. After seeing the picture and hearing her breathless account of the day, I was once again reminded how blessed we are to have her and such a wonderful group of friends and family with whom we can share her.  

Seeing her so happy and feeling so loved and special made my imperfect grown-up day all the better.  Thank you Bill and Sarah.  

You'd better watch out . . .

This weekend we're going to see Santa.  Lots of excitement, nervousness and wee bit of skepticism.  

For Rose, this conversation can't come soon enough.  She's been threatened several times (by her brother) that certain behaviors guarantee a lump of coal in one's stocking.  So every time she screams or gets upset about something (as only a 4 year old can), she immediately becomes contrite and then tearful at the thought that she MUST see Santa soon to clarify that she really IS a good girl and deserving of more than coal.  She was even more determined -- and concerned about the implications --  when we she learned what coal is (only last night).  Tonight, she passionately declared that she wants to "live with Santa and the elves forever and ever" and plans to tell Santa this as soon as she sees him.  We all want to see how he takes it.  

Evan has decided that questioning the whole Santa concept might not be so wise since he's not absolutely sure that it's false.  To hedge his bets, he drew up a pretty comprehensive list for the request to Santa this year:

It's worth noting that several things have been crossed off, including an IPod touch, horror movies, the "no fire flame thrower" and my personal favorite, "Jason books."  (Ever since he found a Jason mask on Halloween, he's been obsessed with the Jason character from the movie Halloween.  He's fascinated and little scared by the idea of horror movies in general, even though he's never seen one. Probably doesn't help that I refuse to watch them, but that just adds to the wonder, I'm sure.).  Still left on the list are several books, Wii and DS games, skateboards, Lego sets, Dr. Who items (Schuyler will be pleased!), and some random things from geek.com.    

Evan kindly offered to help his sister draft her list.  Interestingly, her top item was also a flame thrower (although she swears, "I really want it, mom.  I do!"), along with anything Hello Kitty, pink or sparkly.  I guess every little helper up North could use a good flame thrower ("Santa's elves can make anything, Mom!").

Santa's definitely met his match. 

 

Hot Tamale!

Anyone with children knows that drama is always lurking -- even at the dinner table.  

We have been slowly but surely making our way through the mountain of Halloween candy that Rose and Evan collected last week.  While Evan's style is to work his way through carefully (we've been known to have candy around past Christmas), Rose is much more a eat-as-much-as-you-can-as-fast-as-you-can kind of gal.  

Tonight she tried Hot Tamales for the first time.  While she initially balked at the spiciness, she immediately pronounced them "good" and wanted more.  She happily settled on Nerds instead. Clearly, neither she nor Evan need more spice - or dramatic flair.  Here's a video to prove it.  

Download Hot Tamale

Introducing . . . Supervisor

One of my all time favorite compliments will forever be when, out of the blue, Rose piped up from the back seat of the car one day and announced, "Mom, you're a rock star!"  My heart swelled with pride because, well, I am in a band and it's a thrill to know someone out there appreciates it!  

In all honesty, the evolution of "music nights" into a full-fledged band has been one best things I've ever been part of.  Hanging out with five amazing musicians, stretching my creative self, doing what I love to do: sing.  It's awesome.  

It's also a lot of work, so that's why I'm so excited to share our new website with you:  http://www.music.myspace.com/supervisorband  There you can find everything you ever wanted to know about the band, including pictures, information about where/when we're playing and of course, our music.  

I hope you enjoy it.  

Color my world

As anyone who knows us well will tell you, compromise doesn't always come easy to our marriage. Stubborn and self-assured is more our style(s).  Therefore, decisions that require choosing from several options -- like interior decorating -- are always a bit of a challenge.  

It's been awhile since we've had to select more than one color/texture/style for a room -- thank goodness!  Our tried and true method of Bill narrowing the field (Libra) and me making the final decision (Leo) has broken down a bit due to the sheer enormity of the task.  In the past two weeks, we've had to select carpet, paint and tile for the basement family room and stairwell; paint for the guest bath; tile, paint and fixtures for the master bath; and paint and area rugs for each of the three bedrooms. We haven't even made it to lighting fixtures and already it feels like a marathon.  

Three lessons I've taken to heart:  

Pick your battles.  Like any other major event (say a wedding or Christmas), pick the one or two things you really want and let the other things go.  Easier said than done, of course, but if the man wants green walls in the bedroom, do I really care?  No. As long as the color of the bathroom walls is flattering to my complexion, I'm set.  

I like neutrals.  Yes, I'd like to think that I'm a sassy color gal, but at the end of the day, my interior color palate leans heavily toward browns, greys and off-whites.  "Accent with color through things," I say.  Bill can't understand why I can't go for blues, greens or even dark purple (where I finally had to draw the line).  "It's sooo boring," he says.  "Haven't you seen my mother's fingernails?" I tell him (they've been painted various shades of beige for 40 years), "it's in my genes." Maybe we'll get a red couch instead.  

Paint is cheap.  No, I may not LOVE the color of a certain wall, but at the end of the day, it makes him/her/them happy.  "Pink is it!" according to Rose.  For now, at least, she's right, so her room is a lovely pink box.  Evan was shocked (shocked!) that he couldn't choose black (first choice) or red (second choice) for his bedroom walls, but is satisfied that bright blue will be good enough.  It's easy enough to switch it out later on.  

Colors mean and say a lot -- especially when they're chosen for one's personal space.  Considering the enormous patience the entire family has demonstrated over the past few months, it's a simple thing to let each person select his/her favorite.  I'm not sure what it says about me that I'm the most neutral of the bunch, but there it is.  

We're a colorful combo.      

In with the new

At last, we have pictures of the upstairs addition to share.  Because the interior door had been nailed shut for weeks and the external access is open only when the workers are on site, it's been tough to get in there to take pictures. It's far from finished, but you can definitely get a sense of how it will look when it is.    

Out with the old . . . 

In with the almost new (yes, it requires a little imagination, but it's there) . . . 

 Looking back toward the bathroom - bedroom door (nailed shut) is on the left, Bill's new closet is where the old closet used to be, and the bathroom is beyond that.  

To the really new: 

 Same view today.  Bill's closet is the opening on the left - the bathroom is on the right.  Old/new wood floors, refinished earlier this week.   

 New mohagony bathroom vanity, sans countertop and sinks

 Reverse view - looking to the southwest corner.  We already love the increased light and the beautiful windows (and door).  A great investment.  

Happy Birthday, Bill!

Last week was Bill's birthday.  It fell right in the middle of a four-day work trip.  It might have completely fallen through the cracks, except we have kids and they LOVE celebrating birthdays. Preferably their own, but they'll settle for a parent's in a pinch.  

DAY BEFORE BIRTHDAY:  many rounds of Happy Birthday on the phone (practicing for the real day).

BIRTHDAY: more rounds of Happy Birthday, along with concerns that "Daddy will be very sad all alone by his-self on his birthday."  

SATURDAY AFTER BIRTHDAY: out to a local restaurant for a family dinner.  Two hours later, after a spilled Shirley Temple, several baskets of bread and bean dip -- but no meals, two cranky kids, and the worst service we've ever had, we returned home to recover.  

SUNDAY AFTER BIRTHDAY: Bill finally had his day. We recently purchased two kayaks and he's been itching to learn more about his new favorite sport. Despite cold temperatures, high winds and driving rain, he participated in a four-hour outdoor class about kayaking.  How not to fall out of the boat, how to get back into the boat when you do fall out (which they practiced several times in the Columbia River), and general tips about safety.  The highlight came when he purchased a bright yellow dry suit to wear when he's on the river by himself (to stay warm and safe - and visible).  

He returned home happy and tired, when we promptly subjected him to more birthday stuff.  The kids and I had spent the day planning a meal (for 20 of our friends) -- shopping, cooking, baking, making a card and wrapping his gifts (books about kayaking, of course).  There was a LOT of excitement about sharing our adventures and our love -- not to mention the anticipation of eating the chocolate coconut cupcakes we had just frosted.  

Humble as always, Bill took it all in stride (including the dinner).  For such a social guy, he doesn't love parties in his honor.  Even so, he let us remind him how great he is and how happy we all are to celebrate another year with him in our lives.  

Happy Birthday, Bill!