Things We Never Forget

Yesterday Ruthie told me she was writing a story at school about visiting her Auntie Jody’s farm in Iowa.

It was 2007 when we last visited the farm. Ruthie was only 4 years old, but she still carries the memory of that magical summer.

So do I.

We were on our way to the mall for some girl time when she told me this. She was chatty in the car, and I sadly realized how long it had been since we did something fun together, just the two of us.

I’m such a grouch at home, caressing my precious agenda.

I’m a lot more fun when we get out and Do Things, so I was glad to be at the mall with my big girl. She bought some new earrings and gave me fashion advice.

Apparently I need more heels, pencil skirts, and blazers in my life.

The Daily Post

This is Thomas. I believe I had asked him to put the laundry basket back into his room, and he spent about 20 minutes crying about how that was so hard. Or something. After awhile I start tuning out his drama, but I guarantee you it was less about it being hard than it was about it not being his idea.

I should note that his room is just across the hallway there, about three feet in front of the basket.

This may come as shocking news to you given that I posted only ONCE in December, but I’m going to give the WordPress Daily Post thing a shot.

It’s true that I have a few things going on these days, and I have a highly creative job that tends to drain my creative energy, but I still love to write, and I still have things to write about.

It’s become far too easy to ignore my blog lately. I fear the longer I ignore it the harder it will be to jump back in, and I’ll end up whining like Thomas about something that’s so easy and right in front of me.

So into the deep end I jump.

To keep it simple, I’ll use photos as a writing prompt.

Out with the old…

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I took down the tree yesterday and gathered all the Christmas decorations from around the house. Today it will all be boxed up again and put in the attic, but for now my dining table looks like the holiday clearance section at Fred Meyer.

One of my favorite memories from this year was watching my kids play “house” in the tree branches with dolls, stuffed animals, Lego creations, and whatever else they could find. They also continued “decorating” the tree throughout the month, and I found all sorts of re-purposed craft supplies and kitchen items stuffed into or tied to the branches.

Despite all this manhandling, the intended tree decorations survived the kids, and only fell victim to the dog’s excessive tail wagging.

I woke up early this morning and spent some time evaluating my schedule & rearranging my priorities. I was too stressed out during 2010’s fourth quarter and needed to make some drastic changes.

I worked too much and exercised too little. I didn’t spend enough time planning, and flew by the seat of my pants. I was fueled by the adrenaline of the urgent.

So much of this was out of my control – which added to my stress – but I also didn’t say “no” as much as I should have and didn’t always rally in time to stay on top of things.

I definitely ended the year feeling exhaustion and burnout.

But here we are at January 2nd, and I already feel recharged and ready to tackle the year. I think it will be fun and full of adventure! Maybe that’s just the sun talking, but right now I feel ready for a big change, a cleanse, a renewal.

I commemorated the new year with a new about page. You can check it out here.

Inspired by Jose Cuervo and Florence & the Machine

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I’m a little crazed these days. I think I’ve had something on the calendar every night since the beginning of December, and that never goes over well with Introverts like me.

I’ve definitely hit a wall.

For me this looks like oversleeping, over eating, over drinking, and writing blog posts when I should be working or making dinner. These are the days you find me working in my pajamas and starting happy hour around 2pm.

Klassy.

Ironically, this is the first December in six years that I haven’t been depressed. Despite the work stress (good stress! busy! lots of clients!) and heavy social schedule, I don’t have a dark cloud following me around.

If I’m moping, it’s because I’m mopey, not because life has no meaning.

Hilariously, busy + stress + no depression = no Christmas planning*guiltless to the power of infinity.

Translation: have not sent Christmas cards and have not bought presents and have barely decorated my house and I am 100% okay with this. I am truly living in the moment, not embittered by failed expectations, and enjoying what the day bring IN THAT MOMENT.

And if you know me in person, you’ll know THIS IS NOTHING LIKE ME.

Hallelujah.

There comes a point when lounging around in your pajamas actually begins to hurt.

Right before Thanksgiving Bryan bought an Apple TV because he had to “study the interface for work.” Studying the marketplace is how we come by most of our technology at the ZugHaus.

Carpenters buy hammers, we buy gadgets.

The day after Thanksgiving I woke up with a sore throat that spiraled into a full blown head cold by noon. This took the fun out of having a pajama day. I want to spend the day in my pajamas because I choose to spend the day in my pajamas, not because I need to nap during a commute between the bed and the couch.

So the procurement of the Apple TV turned out to be a well timed investment, saving me from hours of channel surfing the likes of the WB and Hallmark.

It started innocently enough, streaming the series pilot of MI-5 from the BBC. I’m always up for a good spy drama, and the BBC puts out consistently fabulous entertainment.

I don’t think a person ever sets out to become an addict. They’re at a party one night & one of their jerk friends says, Hey, wanna snort a line? And if nothing particularly bad happens that night you may try again at the next party. And the next. And the next, until you’re sneaking it into work and snorting in the janitor’s closet during your lunch hour.

All this to say I could not stop watching MI-5. After about five episodes I began to get a twitch if 15 minutes went by and I wasn’t watching it.

I ended up blowing through 18 episodes in three days. That is an astounding 900 minutes – 15 hours – of television. To my credit, I couldn’t pour a cup of tea without feeling exhausted so it’s not like I would have been doing anything but watching tv anyway, so at least I was watching something decent.

But still. 15 hours.

And it was so much spy drama that I began to think with a British accent. And I said things to my kids like, “it’s proper protocol for you to take out the rubbish.”

One more sick day and I surely would have been given over to the madness.

But I’m grateful for my Apple TV nonetheless. It’s about the same cost as a TiVo (I think), but doesn’t require a monthly fee, and does so much more. Not only can I stream Netflix, YouTube, and Flickr, but it accesses everything on our home server like music and movies.

I may never leave my bed again.

I feel a New Year’s Resolution coming on.

My butt needs a new zip code

I haven’t whined about my body lately, so I shall now break the silence:

*whine*

*whine*

*whine*

*whine*

Sometimes when I whine about my body it’s justified – like when I exercise daily and eat right for three months and lose a whopping 7 pounds. But today I whine unjustifiably.

I’ll wait here while you sigh and click over to a different blog.

I’ve been carrying around 40 extra pounds for a long time now – about 5 or 6 years, depending on your math. I gained about 40 pounds with both my kids’ pregnancy, and lost all the weight after Ruthie was born.

But after Thomas, I didn’t lose a thing.

I was on anti-depressants, birth control, and mint-chocolate lattes at the time – none of which provided a way to lose the birth weight.

I have a pretty realistic vision of how I want my body to look. I know I can’t return to my pre-marriage weight – age, two kids, and gravity are working against me. But when I look in the mirror I don’t feel like me. I don’t recognize who I am. I still gasp when I see myself, as if I went to bed looking one way, and woke up looking like this.

I’ve searched for the motivation of my heart. I want to feel comfortable in my own skin, and for the most part I do. I don’t like the way I look, but I’ve accepted it.

But still.

don’t mess with my people

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Bryan’s uncle spent the last several years putting together their family history.

In his research he discovered his grandfather – Bryan’s great-grandfather – had a brother nobody knew about who died as a young man. Bryan’s uncle was able to track down this man’s grandchildren, who also didn’t know their grandfather had a brother.

That family sent pictures of their grandfather to my uncle, and Holy Moly!

Bryan's Great-Uncle

There was a collective gasp in the room when the picture was revealed. It’s as if Bryan was dressed in costume at one of those old time photo booths in the mall.

The resemblance is eerie.

Bryan’s uncle also had photos of Bryan’s mother as a child. I always thought Ruthie looked like his mom, but I really had no idea how much. Check it out:

Bryan's mom & grandpa

Compared to this picture of Ruthie around age three, they look almost identical!

IMG_1982It was also discovered that Bryan is a descendant of William Penn’s personal physician.

And the King of Hearts – as in, Charlemagne.

Of course this means my brother-in-law now refers to me as his subject.

But I’d like to point out that as a Scandinavian it’s highly probable I am the descendant of a Viking – some hairy blond guy named Erik the Blood Axe who beat the shit out of Western Europe.

So I now refer to my brother-in-law as my bitch.

The Happiest Place on Earth

splash mountain

We went to Disneyland with my brother-in-law’s family our 2nd weekend in California, and I can’t imagine a more perfect experience.

First of all, after a week of temps over 100 degrees, it dropped down to the low 70’s that day. I’m so glad, because you did not want to read that blog post about my sweaty thighs.

The timing was also great since we were there after Halloween but before the Christmas season, so there was hardly any other people. No lines! Splash Mountain was so empty they let us ride it again without even getting out of the boat!

disneyland teacups

This was also a great age to enjoy Disneyland with the kids. They’re at the tail end of 5 and 7 – old enough to endure the day, and young enough to still believe it’s magical.

We had to leave the house at 6:30 to hit the park by 8am, and we stayed until 7pm. My feet were killing me after eleven hours, but for the first time since high school I rode roller coasters! WIN!

disneyland parade

I think the best outcome of the day, though, was turning Ruthie into a fellow roller coaster junkie. She loved them! We rode The Matterhorn first thing at 8:15 and she was hooked! We went on everything together except Space Mountain.

It was such a blast to have a “big kid” with us this time!

(check out her adorable face in the picture below).

splash mountain 2

I noticed something about myself while at Disneyland: I was having fun.

I know, right? Who wouldn’t have fun at Disneyland? But I clearly remember our trip three years ago, and I was anxious, self centered, and struggling to enjoy myself.

And here I was – three years later – completely enjoying myself, without agenda, and ready to go with the flow.

“You know what?” I said to Bryan after we got off Thunder Mountain, “It really helps to not be depressed at Disneyland.”

Indeed.

This Kid.

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At LAX for our return flight to Seattle we were herded into a queue that took us to an escalator that led to the security screening on the second floor.

As Thomas boarded the escalator, he didn’t make the turn wide enough for his wheely bag to clear the end, and it got stuck. As he ascended the bag finally cleared, but he didn’t quite have himself situated.

Also, he wasn’t paying attention.

I’m not sure how it happened exactly, but he ended up rolling down the escalator steps like he’d just rolled down a grassy slope a few days before.

A quick-witted attendant stopped the escalator, I comforted him and kissed his scrapes, and we headed for the elevator.

Fast forward to our Seattle arrival.

On our way toward baggage claim, we obviously take the elevator this time. As Thomas is getting on the elevator, he turns around to say something to me as he continues to walk backwards.

And I swear I’m not making this up.

He says, “I’m sure glad we’re not taking the escalator this time because I got kinda scared.”

Then he tripped over Ruthie’s bag and flipped over backwards into the elevator.

LAX > SEA

baggage claim

I’ll admit I was a bit of a romantic when I booked our trip to California for three weeks.

I’d just read this article about the Crafton family who spent seven years at sea, and I’d just watched these videos of friends who hiked the Wonderland Trail for twelve days with their four young children.

Both talked about how their experiences brought them closer together as a family, and it made me cocky.

I was all, YEAH! LET’S DO THIS THING!

But three days in to the trip I was reminded that CLEARLY I am not called to homeschool.

We had a great time, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. But we are home now, and thankful to be here.

I think Ruthie spoke for both of us when she exclaimed on the flight home: “I’M SO EXCITED TO GO TO SCHOOL TOMORROW!”

Poolside

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I’ve spent the better part of the last three days at the pool in my brother’s neighborhood.

Ruthie’s finally tall enough to stand in the shallow end, and Thomas won’t leave the steps, which means I get an easy afternoon to watch the clouds float by.

Oh wait – California doesn’t have any clouds.

Haha! Yes, that was especially for you, Seattle.

Zug-O-Lanterns

thomas' pumpkin

The picture to the left is Thomas’ vision.

He was very concerned that Bryan could pull it off, given that it turned out a bit small in relation to the size of his pumpkin, and he was very adamant that the pumpkin have a pucker.

Bryan, of course, pulled it off with his eyes closed.

Ruthie's pumpkin

This is Ruthie’s pumpkin, based off her vision on the picture to the left.

Ruthie was a very demanding Creative Director and submitted many creative change orders after the design was already approved, such as substituting hair for eyelashes.

But she was nothing if not thorough in gutting her pumpkin.