Rain Rain

GO AWAY!

Don't you know it's now past May?Welcome to June in the Pacific Northwest.

I've always been one of those people that like the rain. So when we got the call to move to Oly, I was more than excited. We were going back to the West Coast and a little rain wasn't going to stop us. The truth is that there's other parts of the country that get more inches of rain per year than we do, but they get them all in a few months. Our drizzles go on and on for what seems like forever. As a matter of fact, it's been raining on a regular basis since October.

Since our move here, I've heard it said several times that summer doesn't start until July. I was hoping they were exaggerating.

And then this morning I looked outside and saw what is perhaps the most telling picture of all:

J's lawn chair, usually used for picnics, games, and outdoor relaxation, has been relegated to nothing more than a birdbath of sorts.

I hate to complain about the weather when otherwise living here has been a wonderful experience for our family.

I don't know how long it'll last --

both the rain and our status as denizens of the Evergreen State.

I just hope we see some sunshine before the moving trucks roll up.

Tales From the Hood

Our family loves hoodies. Whether a zip-up or a pullover, cotton, fleece, or nylon, the material and hardware are of no concern. If it has a hood, we like it.

For his birthday alone, J got five of them. For Christmas the month before, he got three. He has 14 hanging in his closet and another six in his drawer.

How many hoodies does a six year old need for one season?

I'm pretty sure it's not 20.

But that's the thing. Here we are at the end of May and we're still wearing them. All the time. I'm pretty sure we'll continue to do so for at least another month and on most evenings throughout the summer.

M has her share as well. through hand-me-downs, gifts, and purchases she racked up quite a few of her own.

And if she has her way, she'll continue to wear her "Jah-Jee" even when the mercury hits the 90+ mark. It's a right of passage for her. A passage that leads her out of the house and into exciting places like Target, Safeway, or Costco.

Once her Jah-Jee and "shoos" are on, the world is her playground.

I asked Santa for a hoodie last Christmas. Santa looked everywhere for the one I wanted. I was very specific. It had to be just like the one I had purchased for J: a lightweight, North Face fleece. Santa didn't find it. He found several other North Face jackets, but the lightweight one he found didn't have a hood.

And Santa knew that wouldn't do.

He found a comparable one at REI and paid too much money for it. But he's gotten both his hard work and his money's worth. I love the way it makes me feel so warm and toasty without all the bulk. I know I'll be wearing it for years to come!

Daddy is a fan too. In fact, he may be the one that deserves the credit for recruiting the rest of the family. He has an old black Nike pullover that he's had since I met him. It can almost be called gray now, yet I don't think it's going anywhere soon.

If hoods could talk, there would be many a tales to tell. Lucky for us they don't. Even if they did, our hoodies wouldn't let us down. They're our friends. The friends that you can always count on to wrap you in their comfort and make you feel happy inside.

Sometimes the occasional rat hangs out in the hood.

But our hoodies would never rat us out. The rats are just that. Rats. Rats that like hoods. And who can blame them? In the gangsta world they're referred to as Hood Rats.

Where can we sign up?

One Wish

If I had one wish it would be that just for a couple of minutes I had absolutely nothing to do. Every single moment of every day there's potential for something to be done. It doesn't mean it gets done, it just means that if I'm not doing it, it and its many counterparts will be waiting to get done eventually. Something's always gotta give around here because If I'm doing this then that is being neglected.

Yesterday I had an awful migraine and so I sat on the couch doing pretty much nothing all morning. It's at times like that, when nothing is getting done, that I realize how much I do do throughout the day.

All right. My minute for complaining is done. I think I'll take another to do nothing before I set off for the next 60 to complete my chores.

I Rest My Case

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury,

The circumstantial evidence has always been there: She yells one minute and laughs the next. She's pouting now.......and now she's not.

I had planned to consult an expert witness, somebody with the training and experience that would come in and explain to you how the accusations made against Ms. K are possible. This expert would break down in layman's terms how Ms. K is wired and how that wiring causes the changes in her demeanor.

However, through the technology of a camera lens, I am now able to provide you with the type of evidence that lawyers like to call Heaven on Earth. This type of evidence is also known as direct evidence. The evidence will prove that Ms. K has bouts of temporary insanity throughout the course of the day; that her expressions can sway from sheer disgust or sadness to crazy, yell-out-loud happiness in a matter of seconds.

In my hands I have Exhibit 1. This is a picture taken of Ms. K on the evening of May 16, 2010 at approximately 5:54 pm.

It is evident by the look on her face that she is disturbed by something. Something has caused Ms. K to enter into a state of unhappiness that has consumed her world.

Next I'd like to call your attention to Exhibit 2. Exhibit 2 was taken on the same night, May 16, 2010 at approximately 5:57. A mere three minutes after Exhibit 1 was shot.

Here we see Ms. K indulging in some sort of activity that has made her scream with delight. And in fact, her father, Mr. K, will testify that he was just outside the frame shooting a water gun at her at the very moment Exhibit 2 was taken.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, does this look like somebody that's sane to you? Please don't be swayed by her cuteness. The girl is crazy. It is your job as the triers of fact to reach a unanimous verdict based on the evidence and the evidence alone. In this case, the evidence speaks for itself and that should make your decision to find Ms. K guilty of Temporary Insanity in the First Degree beyond a reasonable doubt an easy one.

Thank you.

Rolling & Rocking

I like nice things. Who doesn't? I've been known to spend a lot of money on trivial things such as shoes and purses. But walking in my beautiful shoes wasn't as glamorous as it appeared. Inside that nice purse was very little money and many credit cards with big balances.

These days, the credit cards are paid off thanks to a collective effort of work, parenting, and marriage. All bills that come into this house leave shortly thereafter with a check that will obliterate them until the next month rolls around. And the girl that for a while paid minimum balances on credit cards has left too.

This morning the kids and I packed into the car and went to Wal-Mart. I hadn't planned on going shopping there. My main destination was Costco across the street but I had to return something at WM and went there first.

While walking through the store I walked by a rack of tank tops that I just couldn't pass up. This isn't my first go round with these tanks. The love affair started about 4 years ago when we still lived in Maryland. They were cute, cheap, and came in every color on the spectrum. I bought one and loved the way it fit so I went back and bought another and another until I had racked up about 12 of them. I slipped into a different one every day as soon as I got home from work. I figured if they lasted the season I would have gotten my money's worth. I have most of them to this day. I went and got several more the summer after that. Sure, the lighter colored ones are looking a little yellow under the arms and the darker ones are starting to fade some, but they haven't ripped or stretched out in a funky way even though I'm about twice as big as I was then.

Since we were going down memory lane with our WM attire, after throwing a couple of the tanks into my cart, we made our way to the boys' department. Js favorite shirt right now is the Mario Kart tee pictured above. My mom bought it there while she was out to visit last month, so shortly upon arriving he started scheming for a Toy Story one. We didn't find it. But we did see exactly what I was looking for.

When J was a baby I bought him a few short-sleeved t-shirts there. Nothing fancy, just 100-percent cotton, crew-neck tees in, again, every color known to man. He wore them all the time. So when September arrived I went back to get the same shirts in the long-sleeved version. He wore them alone, under short-sleeved shirts, sometimes even as PJ tops. He outgrew them before they were too dingy to throw away and I went back twice a year until the ones in the baby section got too small and the ones in the boys' section were too big. Now they fit again. We got a couple neutral-colored ones and threw in a pair of shorts for good measure because the ones I got there last summer are still in good condition after numerous washings and lots of rough and tumble.

Not to be left out, M got a cute little top too.

Our grand total for five tops and a pair of shorts: $18.

To say that today's shopping spree was a good lesson for my kids would imply that I somehow feel I went outside of what is normal to prove a point. That is not the case. This is how we live. And I'm proud of that. I have never been above going to Ross, Target or WM to buy something that I thought was cute or trendy and I'm certainly not above doing the same for my kids.

I don't want J to grow up thinking that all shirts need an alligator or a pony on the pocket to be cool or that his shorts need a swoosh or a big cat to be worthy of a spot in his dresser. One day in the not-so-far-off future material possessions will become status symbols on the playground. It's my job to teach my kids that those aren't the things that define them. He needs to know that what's hanging off his body is not nearly as important as what's deep behind that pocket -- whether there's an animal present or not. And, I don't want it to be an occasional reminder, but rather something he's always known. Because, Mario, that's how WE roll in our house.

To say that I'm completely cured of my bad habits of old would be a flat out lie; they die hard. As soon as I can get myself into a respectable size in jeans I will be going out and spending a lot of money on a new pair. But I'm still wearing the ones I bought six years ago, snug and all. And, I still like nice shoes. I just don't buy four pairs at once anymore.

That being said, the occasional North Face jacket may continue to show up in a smaller-than-adult size around here -- and if I taught him well, he'll be proudly rocking his WM t-shirt right inside of it.