From the Archives

May 15, 2008

Upon moving into our first home and upon removing the disgusting carpet.

Dustin: violently jabbing at the carpeted stairs… “I want that.”
Me: circling around him in a frenzy… “Git it. Git it.”

Nearly three years later absolutely nothing has changed about our approach to life. Nothing.

Worth It

Click here and laugh and laugh and laugh.

It is worth it to look at every product and read the captions.

Filing Petition

Now that I have my very own red headed babe, I am keenly aware of how many negative stereotypes there are about them. The sayings, "I was (fill in the blank) like a red headed step-child" or "Hey, carrot top, why so red?" are mean and ineffective as I know plenty of folks treated poorly by family no matter what their hair color not to mention that carrot tops are technically green. The villan in most kids books are freckly, pale, menacing red haired little boys while red haired little girls are cast as adorable yet quirkily unpopular. Click here to see what I mean.
Well, if you know Alden, you know that he is far from mean spirited or unpopular. He gives red heads a new beginning.

Read This Book

www.TheKidsAreAllRightBook.com

Damn You, Country Music

You know you've gone off the deep end of P.M.S. when you find yourself FULL ON BAWLING while stuck on I-5 traffic on a Friday afternoon. And it's not the traffics' fault. It's that Trace Adkins singing "You're Gonna Miss This". And you're crying not only because you can relate but because you know that you are only 31 and that you already miss being 8 years old, 12 years old, 17 years old (my favorite), 23 years old, 28 years old, etc. You don't have to wait to be some wizen older woman, reminding youth to slow down. You currently, desperately miss the simplicity of those ages and the stupid things that seems so intensely important.

Frankly, I'm a little ticked that I couldn't just be that dumb bunny thinking that life is about moving on and moving up. Nuh-no. I am the sort that knew while I should be happy in my first dumpy apartment, I should be even more excited to grow up yet here I was sabotaging the present by thinking of the future Erica saying that she missed those old days. Crazy making, right?

Like as I remember sobbing in the hallway of North Valley as Dustin and I patched things up after a little disagreement because I already KNEW that we were going to be together for a long time and this was the simple time and that it was almost over already.

Or as before I left the house I had grown up in, I secretly went to every room and wrote down the details; of how the light came my bedroom window in the morning and made me feel like I was in a movie because it made my stuff so glinty and bright; of how the screen door sounded as it slapped shut; how Riley, my dog, would shake the house as he ran around the porch; or how the buzzer on the stove sounded so blandly but with force. I ran my fingers over the grout in the hall way tile, remembering how my sister and I wiped the tile clean once it was laid. I was happy to move on to a freedom that was new and different and long overdue but I already missed the silence of napping - escape - that was our home for so many years.

I don't have a point in writing this. I suppose it just feels good to recognize that the good times are always happening right now and that we are bound to miss even the crumby times because we don't know how much worse it can get. Until we are there. In rush hour traffic with an empty stomach and an empty tank and a crying little guy in the back seat....See? Missing it already.

Bare Bear

Nothing quite like a little nay-nay butter bear ploppin' around the living room. Nope. Nothing like it at all...

The 13 Year Old GIRL Version of Dustin Came Out

Back in early November, we went south of Seattle to see a puppet show at a little library in a quiet little town. Afterward we realized how close we were to the hugely coveted Cabela's outdoor store. Until now, every time we've headed south, we had be on a mission to get to Portland before midnight or to Grants Pass in the next decade. Dustin would wistfully say, "I'm sure I'll go there... (whispered) someday." A boy can dream. Well today we had no mission. There was nothing going on. We decided to visit and the squealing started about 10 miles north of the exit and didn't stop until we were driving home over 4 hours later.

The following is a pretend text from the 13 year old girl version of Dustin to whomever would answer him first...
"OMG! @ Cabelas!!! shoot me now! so x-ited! LUL! hahahahaha!"


Alden and I, understandably, gave Dustin nearly an hour head start because we both knew that Dustin wasn't ours anymore. He was one of the many other plaid wearing, overall protecting, hunter/gatherer folk that were flocking to the front door. I put a cap on how much he could spend and that if he felt dizzy he should sit down on a fake rock or lean against a fabricated tree.

When we all joined up to get a proper tour, I immediately became swept up in it all. It was fantastic. We almost bought a wall tent and a fish shaped mail box. Almost. Gazing into the plastic eyes of the taxiderm-ied elk, I saw what was happening. Cabela's is a ruse! It is a master plan of all the hunted animals in the world to lure us to a spot, close us in, and hunt us. We left soon thereafter. But not after buying a bag of jerky and a pair of "super sweet" boots for Dustin. He hasn't taken them off since.