Two amazing little things

Last night two amazing little things happened. 

Skilling

First, I made, for the very first time, Norwegian Skillingsboller (pronounced shillings-bulla).  They are the Norsk version of cinnamon roll and a staple of my childhood.  My mother, as you can imagine, makes AMAZING ones. With Littleman, she showed us how to make them when we were in NJ.  I had to call her last night two steps into the process to clarify the directions - the deciliters and grams nonsense was tricky - even WITH the metric measuring cups I bought in Norway.  Also, my past few encounters with yeast (the baking kind, people) were not very successful. 

However, I am proud, pleased, and jubilant to report that my boller came out awesome.  Sweet, and yummy.  Okay, to be fair, the picture here is from the internet, mine did not come out quite so perfect...mine are more rectangular...don't ask, many of the mysteries of baking have yet to reveal themselves to me.  I'll work on more circular ones for next time.

I also baked cinnamon scones for the first time last night.  They are an absolute pain in the ass to make and this morning they were chewy and not all crisp and flaky like they are at Starbucks or Panera...I will leave them out over night and hope for the best tomorrow.  Not that I or anyone should eat those fat-filled, heart-clogging treats.  I made them for Papabear's mom.  Today would have been her 40th wedding anniversary. 

 

Acoustic

The second amazing thing happened while I was elbow deep in butter and flour.  Papabear brought his guitar into the kitchen and just started playing.  Littleman had already gone to bed and I was a little sorry he missed what transpired in our kitchen, but I am sure it would have never happened had he been awake and tearing up the kitchen on his tricycle.  Inevitably, Papabear asks, "Could you sing this for me?"  This question used to annoy me for a number of reasons - and then I realized at some point that he just needed a guinea pig to hear the harmonies he was working AND it didn't help that I do not have great faith in the sound of my singing voice (and Papabear is not really one for handing out compliments or positive feedback...he just doesn't say anything).  Anyway, it had been a very long time since he'd asked, and the particular harmony was not only beautiful, but perfectly suited for my voice range.  In other words, it wasn't hard to sing it well (which is not normally the case).

After we sang the line over and over, perfecting it, we moved on to older songs, ones we hadn't sang in ages.  Songs we hadn't sang since college. At one point I ran to the attic and dug out an old journal I knew had the lyrics scribbled inside.  (I must say Papabear was impressed I found it so quickly.)  Anyway, we sang, while I baked and cleaned the counters and washed the bowls and eventually folded laundry.  During some songs I cried, partly because some of those songs he and Z wrote are just so damn beautiful and partly because I really missed those carefree days when we seemed so young.  At the end of the night, when he finally put the guitar down and the socks were all sorted, I think both of us felt a little transformed...a little younger, at least in spirit.  It was refreshing and even a little wild.  It felt wonderful.

I love where I am at now.  I love being mommy and wife.  I love taking care of my family.  I love trying to get Papabear on board the "Baby #2" train (I'm getting closer every day, guys, I really am...).  I love it all (well...most of it...the new job and the extra 15 pounds...er 20 pounds are kind of a bain in my ass, yes, I said bain, but it can't all be guitars and cinnamon rolls, now can it?).  Still, it was magical to visit the good old days like that...and kind of silly that we don't do it more often.  It's interesting how feeling wonderful is just sitting right there, in your chest, all the time, and you just need to find that little something that will trigger it, set it off and make an ordinary night amazing.

To your triggers, every one!  Hope it's something simple..as I am out of Porsche's and bags of diamonds at the moment.  

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Scheduling conflict...

So, I had to have blood drawn this morning (yes, it's cholesterol time again...ack...I was supposed to lose 15 pounds...only lost 5...anyway).  I assumed I would leave Littleman with Papabear.  My darling cluttered brain forgot that Papabear had a dentist appointment at the same time as my doctor's appointment.  I posed the following question to Littleman, "Do you want to go with Daddy and watch him get his teeth cleaned or do you want to see Mommy have needles stuck in her?"

I guess his answer is obvious.  He was fine during the blood part - the office is on the top floor so he had fun looking for our car in the parking lot.  It was the urine sample I wasn't expecting.  I didn't even know I had to give one.  I bring Littleman into the bathroom and tell him I have to do something a little funny.  He doubled over laughing when I told him I had to "pee in a cup."  He stood directly in front of me and stared in hilarious amazement at the cup between my legs.  Naturally, no pee could be conjured under such circumstances.  I chucked his Han Solo toy across the bathroom and told him to play in the corner until I was done (it was a very big and very clean bathroom, just so you know).  As I washed my hands, Littleman announced, "When I am bigger I will pee in a cup, too."

That's just great.  I just hope it will be in a doctor's office.

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The elephant on the table

Or is it a horse?  You know that whole thing when there's an "issue" that everyone ignores and they call it an "elephant on the table" or "a horse in your living room" or "bulldozer in your bathtub"?  (I made that last one up...but I might have made up the first two, as well...but you guys know what I mean, right?)

Anyway, this whole getting a job thing is my elephant, hence that lame purse post.  I haven't wanted to talk about it...to anyone.  I spent three six hour days in in-service and tomorrow is open house, where I get to meet my students (after I walk Littleman through his open house).  As a librarian, I showed up, read books, taught kids how to use and love the library, and had the most wonderful assistant in the world who made sure all my ducks were in a row.  NOW, I have to TEACH kids real stuff like how to write their name and LETTERS!  I have to ASSESS them every six weeks and note their progress and make adjustments to my plans to make sure they succeed and send notes to parents, in addition to serving snack and cleaning the toilet at the end of every afternoon!  And all for a pitiful hourly wage that would make you weep. 

Okay, I am making this sound so much worse than it is.  It's only a few hours a day (3.5 to be exact) and Littleman is just down the hall.  It will keep me busy.  I will get pregnant...one day... and stop working eight or so months after that.  In the meantime, I really can't judge whether or not I will like, love, or hate this job until it really starts next week.  And I should end with the fact that the woman who opened the school is amazing and inspiring and an absolute pleasure to work for.  And we all know what a difference it makes to work for someone you respect, etc., etc.

I'm posting some pictures of the last couple of weeks that help me keep my mind off of my impending future.  Enjoy.

We found a beach/lake not too far from our house.  It's a little ghetto-ish, but Littleman was happy as can be.

Lake1

 

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A day at the museum in Dallas' "Fair Park".

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I'm not sure if you can see, but that ferris wheel says "Texas" across it.  It was mighty impressive.

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Museum1

This next one is UDDERLY ridiculous, wouldn't you agree?

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Enjoying our splash park:

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Here Littleman and his friend were trying to kiss each other (as instructed by mamabear) but kept cracking up.  It was pretty funny.

Couple

 

Couple2

They did manage a peck here and there, but my camera was just too slow to capture it.

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I was never a purse person...

I carried my life in a wallet in my back pocket just about until I became pregnant.  When that happened Papabear and I finally caved and bought "real" cell phones.  After that, with keys AND the wallet, well, some sort of carrying device became necessary.  I started out with canvas-y things that looked more like mini backpacks than "purses."  My MIL and SIL would by me "froo-froo-y" purses that I would occaisionally pull out when I was feeling feminine. And then, of course, I had a newborn and the diaper bag (also a big black backpack) became my carry all. 

As that newborn grew and grew, the bag with his necessaries became smaller and smaller.  But now, it's official, I carry a purse.  Along with my wallet, phone, and keys, you can always find: Spearmint Trident gum, capsules of Tylenol, Advil, and Benedryl, two matchbox cars (one is always a cement mixer), and tissues.  (Until very recently there was also a pair of size 2 toddler's underwear, but they fell out while searching for my wallet a bit too frequently...and when Littleman was at home with Papabear...it just made me and the cashier uncomfortable.)

Anyway, does all that make me an offical purse carrier?  No.  My little boy holding open the door to the garage for me this morning and saying, "Um, Mommy?  I think you forgot your purse," did. 

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Totally wrong...

As I babysat some children yesterday, the little boy and Littleman got into the little girl's dress-up drawer.  Littleman ran around in a blue cinderella dress (along with the other two decked out children) for about an hour.  He was twirling and jumping...and wrestling and playing with trucks, too.  So what's wrong with that?  Nothing really...except the fact that I thought Littleman was such a beautiful little girl...or could be if he wanted to.  Alas, my camera was in the car.

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Counting "Mississippi's"

The thunder here in Texas is like no other thunder I've ever experienced.  The land is so flat and the clouds are so big and there is just so much room for the thunder to echo and roll all over us little people.  The houses shake, even these fancy new ones made of brick and stone - and it will last for hours and hours.  It started around 10pm last night and has continued through today (it is 3:45 pm as I type this and still thundering!).

So, I found myself staring at the ceiling last night, waiting for flashes of lightning and then counting "Mississippi's".  It was so soothing to lay there and count...and satisfying to know the storm was getting closer as I reached seven mississippi, then six, then four.  It made me think of my dad and when he taught me this amazingly useful tool.  I think I must have been five or six (I was never good with numbers, so it had to be around then that the lesson stuck). 

We camped near the ocean in Virginia or the Carolina's for weeks nearly every summer of my life back then (usually the weeks after we returned from Norway before school started).  And, often, or at least once during those trips, there would be an earth shattering, tent jostling, thunder storm.  It was then that my dad taught my brother, Chuckie, and me to count Mississippi's.  He also taught us that the safest place to be during the storm was in a car because the rubber tires would absorb the lightning's shock. 

Now, the safest place to be in a big thunder storm is probably the nearest Best Western with complimentary breakfast and free HBO. However, back in those days, the day we spent at Busch Gardens cost every spare penny my parents had at the time, so the car HAD to be the safest place to be when the heavens opened.  Thinking back now, I think it's because of this lesson, told to me by my soaking wet father as he carried my brother and I from tent to car in his ever calm voice, that I have no fear of storms.  I actually find them thrilling and, oddly, relaxing. 

Littleman does not seem phased by storms yet.  Most of the time they seem to happen at night and he does not wake up.  I look forward to the day, though, when I can teach my little boy the magic of counting Mississippi's.

All the photos of those younger-years at the beach reside with my mother in NJ. All I had was this picture.  It was taken some 31 million years ago in Norway (I think I am two years old).  I believe we camped in Switzerland that summer...but those pictures are far from my reach. That's my dad behind me.

 

Littleme

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So I guess you should know...

Most of you already know this, but I know there's a bunch that do not.  I recently accepted a part-time position at Littleman's soon-to-be preschool.  I will be teaching a class of 8 four year olds, Mon. through Fri., from 12 to 3.  The pay is pretty crappy...but what you'd expect for preschools (a crying shame compared to my last salary...but anyway).  I get half off Littleman's tuition, a pay check (apprently only once a month), and I get to be in the same place as my little boy, just not in the same room.

When I told my dad, I could hear...something in his voice.  Not quite disappointment, but a sort of resignation.  Sighing because I simply cannot just BE and/or say NO.  I have always felt that my dad really looks out for me and when I heard that slight tone in the way he asked, "Are you SURE you want to do this?" I knew I will always be a glutton for punishment.  Not that this is punishment, but I was truly enjoying staying home with Littleman and the preschool-ish playdates I had going.  The extra money will be a huge help right now.  A little catch up before I get prego with the next little one.

You can start taking bets on the following statement: When the next one comes I REALLY will stop working for a few years.  REALLY.  Really, really, really.

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Oh crappy crap

Papabear took my car this morning to get the tires rotated...and called to tell me that the tires were so bald they are no longer street legal!!!  I am not exaggerating, the people there literally could NOT put my old crappy tires back on my car.  SO, Papabear had to spend all but $25 of the money I had set aside for our little "vacation."  :(  I want to cry...and I have a migraine and that is making me want to cry as well, but it will only make it worse. 

Stupid car raining on my parade.

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Super awesome news AND photos!!!

What a bonus blog post!  First, the super awesome news:  Highsmith has sold OVER a thousand of my library games!!!!!!  I received my royalty check just the other day and let's just say, I'm paying off a credit card and taking my family to the gulf of Mexico for a long weekend in October!!!  (Don't get too excited, it's under 2K, but only just a smidge...and all for a few silly games...)  I am working on my next project to send in...anyway, I am pretty psyched about that.

And, here are photos of our wonderful 10 day journey back home - because the east coast will always be HOME.

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Here's SH with her beautiful family - CFH only 12 days old in this photo.

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Good times with great friends.

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More great friends (girls, you'll be receiving prints in the mail soon).

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Best of friends.

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Beachcombing the Jersey shore with Aunt L.

 

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High fiving with Grandpa D.

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Keeping it real on the shores of Conneticut with Auntie Moonbeam.

 

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Baking Norwegian yummy-yums with Mormor.

 

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Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

 

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Down to Avalon and spend the day with Aunt B.

 

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And finally, here's a pic of my mom's house.  They recently had the entire outside redone - stone along the bottom and new siding, landscaping, etc.  This pic will only be interesting to those who have seen the "old" version of their house:

 

Vaca14

They really did a super job.  It looks great.

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The B's have landed

Well, we're back in Texas.  I missed Papabear immensely and Littleman missed him more, but I did not miss Texas one bit.  This trip solidified where we, as a family, will end up: the northeast.  When and exactly where are "to be determined" at a later date.  I am exhausted, but I will leave you with this photo that most accurately sums up the last four days.

 

Vaca1

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The Beatles said

happiness is a warm gun.

I say, happiness is a day at the beach with my little boy, my mom, my brother, and his wife. (It would have been a perfect day if Papabear could have been there).  Still, it was wonderful to bask in the sun and ocean.  Littleman has been to the beach three days in a row and cries every time we leave.  Pictures soon, I promise.

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Highlights...

I am in the middle of my trip "back East."  While I am unable to upload photos at the moment, I will leave you with some highlights:

-When the airline informed us at the gate in Newark that they lost Littleman's brand new blue stroller, Littleman cried as though he'd been stabbed in the heart.  I wanted to scream at the airline people in front of me, but decided I'd let Littleman's sobs tear at their hearts instead...I had been up and traveling since 3 am. (They fedex-ed the stroller to me in Albany the next day.)

-My first stop was to see SH and her brand new baby boy, CFH.  Both are beautiful and it breaks my heart that I cannot visit every day and watch this little wonder grow or pick up emergency diapers/ ice cream for mom.  SH's family treated me like their own...as they have for the last eight years.  I felt like royalty and it was a wonderful, if much too short, visit.  My heart soared, though, seeing SH so happy and her husband standing so supportively and tenderly by her side.  All is right in the world when good things happen to good people.

-I left SH to head over to my BF, Goddesslibrarian , and her family.  I cried the whole way.  I cried because it hurt so much to leave SH behind and because I knew my BF has been hurting over my departure...and facing all that was...well...it seemed a lot easier when I booked the tickets than when I was driving over the Hudson River to her house.

-As it turns out, seeing the BF and her family was wonderful.  The boys, after about a half hour of shyness, played like Littleman had never left.  It's clear those two boys have a special bond...and if we can visit every year or so, they will keep their special friendship.  It was blissful to sit on my BF's couch and blather on and on and on about every little detail in Littleman's exploits.  She is the only person I can comfortably do this to/with.  (Yeah, many of you are actually spared the many, many, many, minute details she must endure.)  It was hard for me to see how much her little Princess had grown...a living indication of how much I have missed.  What I did manage to do was enjoy every minute I had with them, and I am certain that Littleman did the same.  He was sad to leave Skywalker in Albany, but he seems to know that he will see him again one day and that is enough for him.  Such a clever little one...

-While in NY, I had brief visits with friends I miss deeply.  I could have spent an entire day catching up with MK and JB... Seeing their faces and sharing updates over Starcrunches was all I was going to get, though.  To say it was bittersweet is an understatement.

-My former TA and dear, dear friend, LF, threw a little party for me at her house so I could catch up with all my friends and colleagues from Ichabod.  It was so wonderful.  It is actually hard for me to conjure up the right words here.  I'll never know how I was lucky enough to ever have landed a job surrounded by such wonderful people.  It makes me wince to think I will not have the pleasure of seeing their faces every day or be able to help them find just the right story...and for seven years, LF listened to EVERY single worry, complaint, fear, joy, stomach cramp, and ridiculous idea I came up with.  There were so many mornings, in the back office, that we'd laugh until we cried over...well...who knows?  For some reason...it wasn't until it was time for me to leave her that I realized she'd become like a sister to me.  Thanks, LF, for the great party...and to PW for the super-thoughtful PlayDoh for Littleman, and to MW and ZF for playing with Littleman all afternoon so I could chat with grown ups, and to MW for the super awesome cupcakes that I am still eating with much pleasure - they are DELISH.  

-I'd like to sum up my trip to NY with this: I don't know what I ever did to deserve such love from so many people.  To all of you New Yorkers who read this blog and all those poor, lost souls who have not discovered the wonders of blogging and will have to be told second hand, I love you all with every fiber in my heart.  I am grateful to ever have known each and every one of you.  Where ever I end up in the world, you all will be with me (and more than welcome to visit and eat and be merry with us).

-Yesterday I drove down to NJ to be with my family.  I am so glad I had to come down on Saturday because it gave me nearly an entire extra day with my seventeen year old sister, LH (she leaves for track camp at 6 tomorrow morning).  We hardly ever get to spend time together, and today she spent it entirely with me and Littleman.  And this is perhaps, the best part of my trip, so far.  My little baby sister is growing up into such a beautiful young woman.  She was so great with Littleman and just fun to be at the beach with.  I was so happy that we got a chance to just talk.  I am so happy that she is so well-adjusted and, for 17, happy.  She gets excellent grades, is an avid and talented runner, has a really nice (and cute) boyfriend, and she seems to have a pretty decent relationship with her parents - which is more than I can say for most teenagers.  I feel my heart bursting for her. I am so impressed by how together she is...so much more so than I ever was at that age. She is destined for great things...she really is.  And I am grateful that she chose to spend day with Littleman and I.

-Littleman loved the beach, big surprise there.  I took him out past the breakers and he swam underwater in the Atlantic ocean.  I am pretty psyched about that.  We look forward to spending the rest of the week at the beach and in my mom's pool.  She arrived back from Norway just this afternoon and is sleeping on the couch now.

I guess it was a good thing that I decided to post in the middle of the trip...can you imagine how long it would have been if I'd saved it until I got back????  Well, the little sister who can now drive, is back with some ice cream.  Have to go!

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