All Good Things...

I'm sitting in the condo overlooking Pearl Harbor in disbelief that it's already my last full day in sunny O'ahu. We've packed so much fun into such a short period of time, yet still managed to have a day where we did absolutely nothing but lay by the pool at the Hale Koa and have frothy drinks delivered one after another. Nothing like a liquid lunch to make you enjoy the sunshine even more.

Squelching the guilt of having my parents get up with the kids super early every morning has been surprisingly easy, as I just have to think 'Would I rather be there or here at this moment?' Yeah, here.

We've balanced physical activity with tourist attractions and laziness, making me deliciously tired every night. Because of the time difference, waking up at 7-8am every morning has felt absolutely decadent. From sea kayaking in Kailua to hiking Diamond Head and Scuba diving and surfing in Waikiki, we came, we saw and, best of all, we learned a lot.

I learned that shorty wetsuits are actually very easy to get on, and very easy to look totally awesome pretty ridiculous in. That filling up your BCD is scuba diving is pretty uncomfortable when you're not used to the sensation, and it's probably best that you don't have plate lunch to burp on. That surfing is frickin' hard work (well, the whole paddling back out to the waves bit) but so much fun...and you don't give a second thought to sharks because you're working so hard. That the sound of your own breathing underwater is the most relaxing white noise ever. That your dive master making a talking motion to you and pointing right under you means you're going to land on an eel...but he'll jerk you up by your tank if you give him a blank stare. That no matter how long you stand at the ready with your camera, you won't capture the random sea turtle poking their head out of the surf...if you want a picture, they have to come out of the water.

That I have 'Tahitian hips' or so says the kayak rental guy when he learned that we never tipped over; I'm sure he says that to all the girls. That the long dark tunnel up to Diamond Head would end just before I thought I was going to have to turn around and have a panic attack. That a semi-private beach without a bathroom can lead to a 'situation', I just gave you a topic...tawk amongst youahselves. That the person in back of the kayak is supposed to steer, unless it's the wife in back and then the husband will do whatever he wants to in the front anyhow. That tandem kayaking is the way to go; that way, if you flip over or do anything else that causes a problem, you can blame your spouse.

That you miss so much just playing in the water...put on a snorkel, mask and some fins and you'll be amazed at everything that's down there! That Hawaiian Shave Ice places aren't open after 7pm...no matter how many you go to. That shrimp shacks really are shacks...or old VW buses. That too much haupia (can you say Ted's Chocolate Haupia Pie? Yum!) makes you have to poopia...a lot. That the USS Arizona Memorial is incredibly moving, and should be on every one's list of things to see. That there is no such thing as too many frothy pool-side drinks. That the water can never be too blue, the sand too fine, or the sunset too beautiful. That you should do the things that push you outside your comfort zone, and do them with zest.

I learned upon reflection that J and I would probably be 'that couple' were we ever to go on Amazing Race; loud and intense, and making those around us in the middle of a dispute that's, for the most part good-natured, slightly uncomfortable...but it would make for some damn good television and we love each other more at the end of every day.

That absence really does make the heart grow fonder...I'm ready to see my babies again! Well, maybe after just one more day of being a pool rat. I'll see you tomorrow! Mwah!

Aloha O'ahu!

Today I did something I haven't done in over three years. I flew on an airplane all by myself, and it was fabulous. I noted several infants and toddlers with parents laden with toys, food, drink and other goods to occupy them for the journey ahead. What did I have? A small rollerbag, my purse and a smile on my face.

The night before I'd been at a friend's house and spent an evening with former co-workers and my sisters-in-law who are now scattered about and pursuing their lives; a good time was had by all. As well as a lot of wine consumed...thank goodness for Starbucks! On the way to the airport, I snapped a shot of the sun coming up over Mt. Hood. A perfect Oregon morning, and a wonderful day to fly.

As we boarded the plane I waited in line with all the other child-free people, and stowed my sole suitcase in the overhead compartment before taking my seat at the window, which would have otherwise been occupied by a car seat.

As I settled in next to my stranger-seat-mate, I heard the whimpers of an unhappy baby a few rows back. "Somebody's not happy, and we haven't even started yet", grumbled stranger-seat-mate. I turned with a smile on my face and said "Well, then I guess you should be happy that it's not your problem, huh?" Ah, I finally found the shut-down for airplane small-talk. Calling someone out on their bitchiness.

After 5.5 hours of looking out the window I couldn't stop thinking of the comedy sketch I'd recently seen, Everything's Amazing and Nobody's Happy (check it out on YouTube), as I gazed down the length of the 767's wing. How does this mass of steel become airborne? And how could you be experiencing that feat of science and engineering and be snarly?

As I snapped aerial shots of the North Shore upon arrival, I stopped to take a picture of the wing as we made our descent. H and I had just talked about how the one part goes down, and the other parts go up, and it all helps to slow the plane as you descend and roll up to the gate. Alas, I guess I miss the little buggers after all.

Evenflo Smart Steps

I posted about Evenflo Smart Steps over at Knitty Reviews.

Home, Home on the Range

This week I made yet another cross-country flight with both kids; I feel a lot older and a little wiser. About two days before our trip, I realized that a big part of my dread was the prospect of holding ChuckRoast on my lap for the duration. A quick phone-call and courtesy call-back after my wait time at 800-IFLYSWA resulted in the purchase of an infant fare ticket, and a large dose of relief.

I somehow managed not to spend a single penny at the airport, but I did have to endure the annoyance of the baggage swab which was far more unpleasant than the full body pat-down. Something in my small soft-sided Coleman cooler, in which I'd packed a plethora of flight and kid-friendly foods still in their factory seal, was showing as being toxic per their swabs.

Well, that's not good.

So, in Chicago on our layover, after we ate the majority of the contents and I was able to condense down to my one backpack, I ditched the cooler. Not only was it extra baggage, something about it made them think I was a terrorist. With Horizon Organic milk boxes. And cereal bars. And string cheese.

Plane boarded and day of travel begun, I busted out the portable DVD player that Alex had gently, and multiple times, suggested I may want to borrow. I'd survived a number of cross-country flights without an extra piece of baggage, so I'd be fine on one more, right? Once again, my faithful friend was correct and the day before I left I called to ask if the offer was still on the table.

A viewing of The Wild between Providence and Chicago, and H was ready for leg #2, as mama played the game of Sally the Sherpa to get from one gate to the next with H's back-pack, my back-pack and a small bag of diapers slung across the handles of the stroller in which both kids were blissfully secured, a car seat over one arm and a smile on my face.

I did the dance down the aisle with a car seat held as high as I could, Charlie in the sling, and Henry trailing faithfully behind under penalty of death if he touched the controls that make the jetway separate from the plane; yet another hazard in having a child whose hero is Curious George...it would be less give-you-a-captain's-hat-and-let-you-sit-in-the-cockpit and more mommy-gets-arrested-for-suspicion-of-terrorist-activity. Especially in light of the cooler debacle.

I smiled wryly at one passenger as he was holding his head as far to the side as possible so as not the be concussed by the car seat and I quipped 'As if him crying won't be enough to make you hate me, I could give you a skull fracture as well!' Luckily he laughed.

Each time one of my snotty kids coughed or sniffled, I could see passengers giving me sideways glances...I should have put snouts on them.

I love flying Southwest, but wish they would have a direct flight. Alas, part of the lot of flying on the airline that has heart, is a lot of up and down. Being a master planner, I changed Charlie's diaper in my lap just prior to the last trash collection as we were getting ready to descend in Salt Lake, where we'd have to sit on the plane and wait for the connecting passengers to board.

Just as we were given the fasten seat belts warning due to turbulence, the most foul smell filled the air. Awesome. So glad you didn't do that before I changed your diaper. Not quite brave enough to delve into that with him on my lap, I had to wait...and wait....and wait until we landed.

Back in the air again for our one-hour romp to Boise, we were almost home-free. H had fallen asleep for almost three hours on the prior flight, dosing off during take-off while reading the brochure for the 737. Charlie had yet to sleep a wink.

After arriving safely we walked to my sister's car and I noticed a large box strapped to the top of her Explorer. What. Is. That?! Oh, just a tub surround for a friend...because Sherpas run in the family.

Kids fed and car gassed we were in the home stretch; a three-hour car ride to my parent's house in rural Eastern Oregon. As I took in the slush and the grey, the sage and the open space surrounded by mountains, it came to me again how much I love my home.

About half-way there, we realized there was a slight thumping noise from the top of the car and glanced to see if the other had heard it too. After a van passed us motioning to the top of the car, we decided to pull over and investigate. Sure enough, the slush and wind had ripped off the front corner of the box.

Small pieces that could fly out should the whole box become compromised were removed and the security of the tie-downs double-checked and we were back on the road.

As we pulled up to my parents' house, Charlie was still wide-eyed and promptly handed me separation papers announcing his intent to divorce his car-seat. It was only as I sat him down on the plush carpet and he stumbled his first few steps that I realized...he had not taken a single step since 4am EST...and it was 5 at my parents'. A full 16 hours in which he hadn't been out of a seated position, other than to bounce on my lap in the plane. Ahh...a shining example of motherhood am I. In my defense, we had just enough time in Chicago to eat, change a diaper, go potty and head to the gate as they were able to leave ahead of schedule.

Go ahead Char, you are now free to roam about the country.

Lacy Lurvis Hat; Baby Alpaca/Silk blend (blue) and cotton (green)...leftovers from the ruff neck warmer I made earlier.

Black-Eyed Peas

This afternoon, I laid down on the couch in the delusional gesture of taking a nap in the living room while J read a book, oblivious to the kids re-enacting the storming of Normandy. Why I didn't go into the bedroom? Aparrently, I didn't really want to sleep.

It all started out innocently enough; H in a time-out for repeatedly doing what he was asked not to, and Charlie meandering around the living room looking for something else to bash into so that he could be told 'No!', laugh at me, be told 'No!' again, comply, and then stand in the middle of the room and start bawling because he doesn't like being told 'No!'. The fabric of our lives.

I closed my eyes for a second and asked J that if, by miracle or stroke of luck, sleep should find it's way into my body, that I be awoken by four so that I could make dinner before escaping to the theatre with friends.

Not five seconds later I heard Charlie toddle over. He's been big on giving kisses lately, such a sweet, sweet boy is he, so I kept my face slack and in peaceful repose only to be rewarded with SMACK! Yep, shattering smack of the hard plastic crocodile xylophone (not a small toy, mind you) to my cheek bone and eye socket. Nothing feels better on a Sunday afternoon.

About five minutes later, I was treated to a crack along my temporal lobe with a sippy cup. Showing mama some lovin', eh? Parenting is most definitely its own reward.

But at least I didn't actually get a black eye...unlike my senior citizen mother who fell and hit her head a couple of weeks ago on the corner of a pressure cooker box and got a shiner. Or my dad, who two days later tripped over the wheel barrel that my mom moved 'out of the way' as he was hauling her faux wishing well (circa 1985) on a handtruck so that it would be in a more asthetically pleasing area of the lawn. In case you're wondering if he's alright, I can't be sure, I could barely make out the story through my mother's hysterical laughter in recounting the tale to me. And they wonder where I get it.

Speaking of gnarly bruises...Whip It (with Juno's Ellen Page) was a fun movie and had a great ensemble cast, including Drew Barrymore, Jimmy Fallon, Eve and Juliette Lewis. The coach, Lazer, is the 'other' Wilson brother, Andrew (who sounds eerily like Owen, which is how we figured he must be a Wilson even before the credits rolled). And, triple bonus, I finally found out the object of roller derby.

Ruff Neck Revisited

This is the scarf we're making for the knitting sub-group of my moms' club. Cast-on Sunday night, you can see it's a pretty quick knit. I'll post again when it's completed...probably tonight!