Monthly Archives: March 2011

The only way is up

My friend suggested we take the boys for a hike in one of our national parks today. Here is the map:Dugualla.

Feeling brave we decided to take the beach trail. Have you noticed how you never seem to think about the climb back as you are zooming down the hill. Mrs. V had to carry two year old Little C in the backpack on return. So we started trailing a little behind.

These are the some of the conversations Little J initiated in the next hour:


Little J: Mama if zero started rolling it would knock four down. That means even if it is smaller, it can be stronger.

Me: Yes, size is sometimes not important. What number is bigger then four?

Little J: Five, seventeen and forty.

Little J: Mama take my gloves off. I want to eat my boogers.

Me: OK, but shouldn’t you be busy walking and looking for the signs?

Little J: Don’t worry, I can do both.


Little J: We did not see any whales today. Again.

Me: I checked and there were reports of four of them feeding down South. Near Seattle.

Little J: Gray whales don’t live in Seattle. They are too big to be in aquarium.

Me: The path is muddy and steep, you want to hold hands?

Little J: No thank you. You always slow me down.

Me: Hurry up, I cannot se Mrs. V and Little C any more. We don’t want to loose them.

Little J: Oh no! Mrs. V has the map. I am gonna call her and tell her to wait for us!


Little J: I like my hat. I like my bauble. Look, if I jump it goes up and down. If I shake my head it goes left and right. Cool!


Never a dull moment. What made you laugh this weekend?


Posted in The Great life | 2 Comments

Rainy with the chance of sunny

I love talking about the weather. It is my number one subject. If I could tag my conversations over the next week I am pretty sure weather would be the reigning champion.

Off course it was not always like that. Growing up I could not care less. The only time I checked the weather report was before school break, to see if there was snow on the slopes or warm enough to swim on the beach. Then I moved to the land of perpetual sun that had two weather conditions; hot and hotter. No surprises there. So we mostly talked about designer shoes.

Becoming a mother led to my weather obsession. I would wake up in the morning and start the guessing game. Will it rain? Should I bundle Little J up? Go to the playground in the morning or wait till the clouds pass?  I also started believing I somehow contribute to the sudden changes. I make plans for lunch and preschool is closed due to snow. Leave the sunscreen at home and the rain stops. I feel single handedly responsible for the storm. If only I wore boots…

Another great thing about the weather is how everybody is willing to talk about it. The best way to chat up a stranger, the only thing other then your child to talk about at the dinner table with your spouse, the one thing you can complain about to anybody. It offers you endless possibilities and even when it is bad it’s good for something. Your garden will grow and the car gets washed.

Naturally Little J shares my interest on the subject. The first thing he does in the morning is climb on my bed, lift up the window blind and check the weather. I receive a full report. Foggy and sunny, maybe some rain later is what he usually says. And he is spot on. Then again this is Pacific Northwest.

The one thing I did learn in past few years is not to mind the weather. We are always out. What adults might think of as miserable weather, kids love. Nothing like spending hours playing in the snow till your fingers are numb. Jumping in muddy puddles to see how waterproof your clothes really is. Running fast through the rain trying to catch all the raindrops. Hiding behind the dog on the beach so as not to get blown away. Basking in the sun counting white, fluffy clouds.

I was riding today across the farm. It was cold, but the sun was out . Newborn foal and blooming trees bring the promise of spring. Off course it will turn bad next week since spring break starts on Monday. Rest assured we will be sitting on the beach, waiting to spot the gray whale. No matter the weather!

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I pale in comparison

Little J is very particular and complicated. Some might call him posh. For a while I fancied my self to be the same. If I ever indeed was, I must have passed it on to my son during childbirth.

These are some of the reasons that lead me to believe my son is much posher then me:

He has a queen size bed all to himself. In fact he sleeps in guest bedroom, has his own room and crashes mine whenever.

He has more entries in his social calender. OK, I have none. But he has some.

Most people that I interact on daily bases know his name but are clueless of mine. Some even know about his hobbies and dislikes, nobody cares to ask about mine.

He wears cardigans by choice. OK so do I, now. But at his age I cried when my Grandma made me wear them.

He owns a horse and refuses me to ride him. In his head off course,but I still avoid talking about riding Vizon so as not to hurt his feelings.

He is very picky about chocolate. Only dark or truffles will do. I wish I could be, but I have been known to eat Nutella out of a jar in times of desperation.

He reads at least five books a day. Flicking to see pictures counts you know. Otherwise stop saying you read magazines!

He can work sperm whale into conversation and be considered knowledgeable. And yes he has initiated this topic with several strangers.

He always has a witty comeback. Instantly. Not like me posting a tweet and then thinking up five better ones.

He owns several monogrammed items of clothing and furniture. I wrote my initials into my wellies, so as not to loose them at the barn.

He has his daily tea with milk and one sugar. I make his tea.

He only uses tooth paste once it meets his taste and cartoon character approval. I end up using the Spongebob one.

The list is endless so lets make this a series and call today’s PART ONE.

To be continued…

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