Creature Bug

Hope Springs in Lilacs

Although tulips are my favorite flower, lilacs are a close second. There is a lilac bush outside Jules' bedroom window, and I can't tell you how many nights I have been in that room, gazing at the moon illuminated shadow of the lilac leaves. On spring mornings, I open wide the window and breathe deeply the smell of lilacs. That bedroom may be the smallest in the house, but the dreams are full of white, moonstruck lilacs. Lovely.

I was afraid the lilacs weren't going to make it this year. The weather hasn't been kind to them, and due to their eastern exposure along the side of the house, they don't get a lot of sunlight. Jeri and I have been trading emails back and forth about our lilacs, keeping our fingers crossed that they will survive. Her flowering purple lilacs are committed to flowering; my flowering white lilacs are waiting. They bloom after purple lilacs anyway, so I'm hopeful they will bloom eventually. See all those little buds? They have to turn into flowers, don't they?

My lilac bush has also given me an opportunity to put some newfound photography knowledge to use. Ree, that sassy Pioneer Woman, has had some nifty tutorials going on at her Photography site. I picked up a thing or two from her "Blue Branch": Step by Step and applied it to this picture of my lilacs. Although I'm still working with Photoshop 7.0 instead of the snazzy Photoshop CS3, it manages for most of what I want to do. Especially in the area of making my photos appear more as I see them in real life, instead of all muddy like my camera makes them appear.

Here's the before and after:

First photo? Not so hopeful. Second photo? Bloom on, little lilacs. You're going to be just fine.

Stay tuned for tomorrow's update on Operation Backyard...

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Going to Work

Yesterday was Take Your Child to Work day, which many of Jason's students used as a great opportunity to ditch school and go see how cool working is (or not).

Instead of ditching school, Sydney actually went to school. For an assortment of reasons, Sydney didn't go to work with me. The main reason was that students were giving final speeches, and while they have developed a plethora of techniques for conquering their shaky nerves, I suspect a child waving at them from the back of the classroom would have just sent them over the top.

So, Sydney went to school with Jason. And, boy oh boy, was she just beside herself with excitement. The night before, she picked out her clothes, helped her daddy pack her lunch, and got her overnight bag all ready since my grandpa was picking her up at school to take her up to the Family Farm for her weekly visit. She went to bed early the night before since she knew that she'd have to wake up early, and she didn't complain about waking up at 6:15 am. Normally, Jason leaves for school very early because it's better for him to get work done before school than to stay after school more than the required time (ie: I beg him to be home by 4:00). However, he made an exception this time and left for school later than he needed to be.

By all accounts Sydney had a fabulous time. She gave hugs to the girls, and avoided giving high-fives to the boys (well done, my child). She drew on the dry-erase board, watched Winnie the Pooh on the iPod, ate donuts in the school office, and ran around the gym during Jason's prep time. As an added bonus, Inkling took her son to work with her too, so Sydney was jazzed about seeing him. Lunchtime rolled around, and my grandpa arrived to pick up Sydney. Jason told me later, "I wish Sydney could have been with me all day. It was so much fun having her around."

There are certain benefits to being almost four, and this year it was finally being old enough to go to work with Daddy. Who knows if this early experience with teaching will actually mean she'll want to be a teacher--gosh, if she follows in our footsteps, she won't figure out her career choice until her college adviser says, "Uh, maybe you should pick a major?"--but I'm glad she had a great experience her first time going to work with Jason. There are valuable lessons in learning what your parents do for a living, but of course, you already knew that, didn't you? Smarty pants.

*****

(c) 2008 Creature Bug. All rights reserved.

Oh, Spring! Where Art Thou?

My brother-in-law called the other day and told me it was 80 degrees in Rhode Island. It's so unfair. It's not even close to 80 degrees here. In fact, on Saturday the coldest place in the 48-continental states? Redmond, Oregon. Oregon is definitely not the place to be this week for spring weather.

Today was my last day of teaching classes (hello summer vacation!), and when class ended, my students had to wander out into the pouring down rain as I called after them, "Have a good summer!" They didn't think that was very funny.

I'm not the only one who thinks it's too cold around here. A little visitor this morning confirmed my suspicions that, despite it nearing the end of April, it is far too cold outside.

Hello there, little bird! Come to try on Sydney's winter boots?

What's that? You had other ideas for the boots?

Yes, they are quite warm! Why do you ask?

Oh, I totally understand. Take all you need.

*sigh* Hang in there. I'm sure warmer weather is right around the corner.

Happy summer vacation to me!

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Week 204: Springing Tulips

For the fourth year in a row, Sarah and I took the girls to the Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm. Per tradition, I got lost on the way there. I was totally NOT going to get lost this year. I had written down directions and had a little compass on the dashboard. In fact, I was going to leave early to make sure that I not only wouldn't get lost, but I also wouldn't be late, like I am every year.

I don't know why I bother with such optimism. I still managed to turn a 35-minute drive into a 70-minute drive. Next year...I promise, Sarah. I absolutely won't get lost. (See. There's that optimism again. I can't help myself.)

And despite the fact that Saturday and Sunday brought us weather that looked like this:

   

Fortunately, our excursion to the tulips a couple days earlier looked a lot more like this:

As sure as winter turns into spring (and then, for spite, might turn back into winter again), we go to the tulip farm. It's so much a part of our springtime adventures, I can't imagine not going with Sarah. Back in 2005, when Sarah and I first took the girls to the tulip farm, they were barely walking.

(2005)

They were, in short, quite easy to photograph. We'd plant them next to a tulip, take a picture, and voila! The perfect picture. In case you don't know, it's easy to take pictures of slow moving children.

Then, the next year--at almost 2 years old--they were moving along at full force. They found every mud puddle, every flower, every smidgen of springtime to be fabulous and amazing. Running, splashing, smooshing the tulips.

(2006)

We two pregnant mommies wondered how we would handle the next year.

But we did.

(2007)

My most vivid memory of last year is taking pictures of Sydney, while I walked down the tulip rows, holding my camera in one hand, and Julianne--as she was nursing--in the other. Totally. How can tulips not be my favorite flower after that? They mark my triumph of multi-tasking.

2008...

This year was a whirlwind trip since I had to teach in the afternoon, which meant the morning had to be snappy. Take the pictures. No time for tantrums. Just enough time for trips down tulip aisles and the slide. Snacks and sippy cups in the car.

Well, okay. Time enough for one tantrum. But that's it.

I find that each year, I have progressively more shots of the girls from behind them. I run to catch up, and hope to snap a glimpse of their face, but they run faster. How is it that these girls can outrun me? Me, nimble as a deer.

 

At least, as nimble as a deer can be with a camera and a baby to haul around. That would be an Olympic event I'd pay to see. Mothers, cameras, babies, sippy cups hanging off their back pockets...sprinting toward the finish line. On second thought, that could be kind of dangerous. Nevermind.

No matter how we handle it, though, we get them there and we always have fun. At the very least, it's such an interesting little experiment to see how little people and little mommies grow up over the course of four years. Plus, tulips make for a fabulous backdrop, no matter what we're photographing. Four little cousins: Julianne and Sydney, Toby and Clover. A tromping, romping, running, laughing, toddlering, mothering, sunrainsnowmudpuddle tradition.

It wouldn't be spring without it.

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Tulip's Baby

New banner up.

Also? I've also decided that I will never ever ever become a professional children's photographer. Tulip photographer? Perhaps. Tree photographer? Quite likely. Thumb tack photographer? Absolutely. Children's photographer?

I'd rather be a lion tamer. Less drama, way less sulking. Bless those people who photograph kids for a living. They earn every penny of it.

Story of our tulip adventures forthcoming.

*****

(c) 2008 Creature Bug. All rights reserved.

Week 203: Pause and Wonder

 

Leaving What We Love

I've been a bit down this week. I suppose some of it is residual sadness from those handful of mean comments I got last week. It's not like it really bothers me or that I think about it all the time, only that it hurt my feelings. That small piece of sadness wandered over to my general state of being and resurfaced each day during particularly chaotic moments. As you probably know, sadness doesn't provide any kind of strength to get through chaotic moments. Instead, it pretty much leaves you in tears.

Adding to all this is the realization that it would be better to put our house up for sale sooner rather than later. We had planned on living here until the end of next school year, but with the housing market like it is--and the importance of selling our house before the construction ends on our new house--I think we've come to the decision that August will find us with a For Sale sign in our yard. This August. One hundred days from now.

I'm not ready for this to be my last spring living in Oregon.

 

Of course, I'll still be working in Oregon because no matter where we're living I'm teaching all next year, so every Tuesday and Thursday will find me back in town. But all week long I've been thinking about leaving my town, my home, my friends, my church...oh dear, I need to go find a kleenex.

I had this great idea a few days ago to take lots of pictures of the area throughout the next year, and then create an Our Last Year in Oregon photo album. I was going to start in May, but considering that our year may be shortened a bit--though on the upside/downside, it might take forever to sell our house and we'll still have a full year left in Oregon--I figured I needed to get started right away.

We headed downtown today to get some pictures of the cherry trees, although they are definitely past their prime bloom stage. Nevertheless, being outside in a large expanse of grass is actually very good for the soul.

There's lots of room to twirl around, take deep breaths, laugh at the crazy squirrels.

I told Jason I want to get this same kind of flowering cherry tree (it's some particular variety from Japan) and plant it at our new house, so that every time it bloomed I would be reminded of our Oregon home. He thinks that's kind of cheesy.

But I'm pretty sure the Gold Man thinks my idea is brilliant.

I'm not saying my goodbyes yet, mind you. We still have lots of living to do around these parts.

It's just that, gosh, I love this town. And leaving it is going to be really really hard, and that's something that hit me particularly hard this week. Of course, I'm not saying I'm not excited about building our dream house, on property, surrounded by our family. I'm not saying that at all.

However, the truth is even when there's something amazing up ahead, it doesn't diminish how much love you have for where you are and how hard it will be to leave that.

How very hard it will be, indeed.

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Where 33 inches* and 22 pounds will get you

 

Last week, I took the girls in to get their immunizations. For Jules, it was her 12 month well baby check, for which she was, you may note, 3 months late. I just couldn't bring myself to make her get shots in the dead of winter because I pretty much felt like January isn't a time to tempt fate by visiting the doctor's office, and February is absolutely the worst month ever (aside from My Birthday, Groundhog's Day, and Valentine's Day) so why make it even more miserable with 3 pokes in the leg? Therefore, I waited until the first day of spring was within our sights, and then took them in.

Jules still ended up picking up some cold germ (no doubt because she kept putting her hands in her mouth after touching every possible surface), but oh well. I just can't bother myself to worry that much about colds. This was a baby born in December after all, and suffered through bronchitis for the first three months of her life (although it didn't really seem to bother her since she still smiled through it all).

The official measurements: height at 33 inches* and weight at 22 pounds. That puts her 7 inches and 10 pounds smaller than Sydney. I admit I'm a bit amazed she doesn't weigh more. Jules is a very good eater. Give her a box of raisins, and 60 seconds later she'll ask you for more (but please don't give her more because she doesn't digest those raisins...ever seen a diaper full of raisins? not pretty). She eats meat. She eats vegetables. She eats fruit. She eats Sydney's leftovers. She eats our leftovers. I'm amazed by it, especially considering Sydney's main food groups are cereal, toast, and fruit. She is the quintessential picky eater.

Not Jules.

Yet, she's still on the petite side. I asked our pediatrician about it, wondering if maybe she should weigh more. He said, "It's not surprising considering you're tall and thin." Okay, let's give it up for the pediatrician. Love him.

He also pointed to the fact that Jules has been walking since 9 months, so she's just burning those calories off. I don't deny that. This girl is a mover, a shaker, a mom-just-cleaned-the-house heart breaker. Out of exasperation, I finally had Jason install another child lock on a kitchen cabinet because she insists on pulling things out. Of course, all the dangerous stuff is locked up; I'm just locking up even more stuff for the safety of my sanity.

This girl. Nothing is safe from her.

She rips up magazines,
rips up books,
rips of any shred of paper she can find,
(usually with her teeth, and then spits out the paper all over the house, so I'm constantly scraping up dried spitballs from the walls/floor/furniture),
scatters Sydney's hair ties all over the house,
pulls Daisy's tail,
empties the dog dish,
pulls my hair,
pulls Sydney's hair,
turns the computer off.

And the big trick lately is to climb. Find a chair, a stool, a bench, a pillow, and climb it has high as it will take her.

Like this week, when I hear her yelling for me as I'm back in my room folding clothes.

"Mama!" she screeches. "Maaamaaaa!"

Ever at her beck and call, I wander out to the dining room to see that she has taken possession of a container...

from the floor,
up to Sydney's craft table,
onto the chair,
onto the table,
into the box,
and gotten stuck.

Being 33 inches can get you into all sorts of trouble. Heck, it gets me into all sorts of trouble. Thank goodness she sleeps through the night because we all need our rest to keep up with this girl.

*Edited to add: I noticed this morning that Jules was just under 29 inches on her birthday, and so thinking it would be quite amazing for her to have grown 3 inches in 3 months, I re-measured her. When she's standing, she's just under 31 inches. Evidently, Jules still falls under the "baby" category where she's being measured head to toe (rather than head to heel). So, she's 9 inches shorter than Sydney, not seven. Nonetheless, that 2 inches isn't holding Jules back from anything. 

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Week 200: Babycakes

It's been 200 weeks since my sweet faced, curly-haired, Singing In the Rain singing, ballet dancing, book memorizing, chatterbox of a daughter made me a mom. Technically, 200 weeks and two days, since she was born on a Saturday after all.

From this moment:

To this:

Curly haired, chocolate face, flower in her ear girl. You're not quite grown-up. Yet. But you are certainly getting there.

And to celebrate 200 weeks, I decided to spend some good ole' bonding time with size 1 diapers. Oh little size ones...how tiny you are and how sweet you smell and how much I miss you. No, scratch that last part. I don't miss you. Nevertheless, you are quite useful, especially for baby shower gifts.

Last week, when I was at the first annual MOPS auction (whereby I got to finally put my public speaking skills to use and act as the MC) I saw many a lovely items, some of which I even bid on, although I didn't win anything. One thing I didn't bid on but examined quite closely was a diaper cake. Now if you are anything like my students, you know nothing about diaper cakes. You have not heard of diaper cakes. You will even look at me with a skeptical, slightly grossed out expression on your face when I mention the words, "Diaper Cake." At least, that's how my students responded.

However, I have heard something about diaper cakes and after seeing the one up for auction, I thought, "I can make that."

I should say that this thought crosses my mind more than once when I am out window shopping. I see something really cute, think, "I can make that," then go home and promptly decide...not to make it. Or even worse, I'll get all the stuff to make it and then don't. Which explains why I have a couple bins full of craft materials that rarely get used.

Sometimes I even have "I can make that" moments when I'm out grocery shopping. I see a cake; I'm hungry for a cake; I go home, unload groceries, am too tired to make a cake, so I pull out a stack of graham crackers and slather them with frosting instead. Because really, it's all about the sugar anyway.

This time, this encounter with a diaper cake, was going to be different. I was determined. I was focused. I had a baby shower I was going to the very next week. I bought the diapers, Googled "how to make a diaper cake" and decided that because no sewing machine, skill saw, modge podge glue, or knitting was required, quite possibly I could do this.

Well, what do you know? I did it.

I had it all wrapped up and ready to go before realizing that I needed to take a picture of it or no one would believe me. My diaper cake consisted of 56 size one diapers, and then a dozen size 3 diapers to fill out part of the bottom layer (well, I guess technically they're all bottom layers (heh), but you know, the very bottom tier of the cake).

I wrapped up each tier with some ribbon, stuck in a couple toys, my favorite Baby CD, my favorite hand sanitizer (because I suspected the new parents-to-be wouldn't have heard about Purell warnings, being out of the parenting email loop and all), a hat, and a product that I'm reviewing (and giving away two jars of) next week.

If I had thought of it sooner, I would have used Seventh Generation diapers, and used organic cotton ribbons, and then nearly the whole thing would have been environmentally friendly. However, since I haven't yet tried out Seventh Generation diapers, then I stuck with Pampers Swaddlers. They may fill up the landfills, but at least I know they generally do a good enough job doing what they're supposed to do.

Any day now, little George will be making his entrance into the world. When that happens, Gavin and Preeti's life will be forever changed, just like mine was 200 weeks ago.

Carl Sandburg would agree: The world is going on.

*smile*

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Week 196: Flowers and Fires

One way to work your way out of a melancholic slump is to spend time outdoors. I'm not the world's most outdoorsy person (it's not a coincidence I don't ever write about our camping adventures...that would be because there aren't any), but I do love a sunny day outside.

Even though there were things I definitely could have been working on inside (like grading papers, which is actually what I should be doing right now), I decided to bag it all and just work on the backyard. After church, we decided to shop around for a backyard fire pit. We had seen one that we liked at Home Depot, and thought we'd check out Lowe's. Didn't actually make it to Lowe's because I remembered that we needed ice cream, and 30 minutes later we were walking out of Walmart with coffee ice cream, milk, and a fire pit. An hour later, I went back and bought a bag of marshmallows and some roasting sticks. I also picked up 15 of the most adorable little primroses you ever did see. Because I wanted to. And because they were so ridiculously cute.

So the afternoon was spent putting together the fire pit and planting primroses in the backyard. It did not escape Jason's attention that I managed to buy yet another pair of gardening gloves on my primrose buying trip.

J: Are those new garden gloves?

S: Yep.

J: What's that...four pairs you own now?

S: But I didn't have pink ones. And the other ones are dirty.

J: You know that's what happens to garden gloves. They get dirty.

S: Which is why I always have to buy new ones.

It's true. I have a thing for new garden gloves.

The weather wasn't exactly what I would call 'fabulous,' but it wasn't raining and it wasn't freezing, so that's always a plus for February. Sydney played away on her newly installed play structure--the one that has been dismantled since last November when we decided to put the new shed where the play structure used to be. I have to say, it's very handy having the slide and swings working again. Sydney would probably swing all day if someone was there to push her. Jules, on the other hand, is terrified of the swings. That's okay by me. I get a bit weary of swing-pushing anyway.

Simply put, it was just a nice day hanging around outside as a family. Sydney helped me plant/fertilize/water the primroses, donning her mismatched Dora gardening gloves for the occasion, and finally deeming the flowers "beautiful and so nice smelling too!" Julianne wandered around emptying bottles of bubble liquid all over the patio. Jason managed to outwork all of us by assembling the fire pit, chopping up wood to burn, and putting in a fence post which involved things like digging a hole and mixing cement.

After I planted the flowers, I had a small moment of conflict. According to my beloved Sunset magazine, when you plant flowers you are supposed to snip all the flowers and buds off so that the plants can focus all their growing energy on roots rather than feeding the flowers. I might have done this except that we're having a family shindig at our house this weekend in celebration of Jason's brother and SIL visiting from Rhode Island.

I just couldn't stand the thought of all those guests at our house, admiring our new backyard, yet wondering what in the heck happened to our flowers. I want the backyard to look pretty, not like a pack of deer (team of deer? gang of deer? ah, herd of deer) wandered through our subdivision on an evening stroll, pausing only to nibble all the petals off my flowers. So, I fertilized the flowers, and Sydney and I whispered words of encouragement to them. I have faith they will survive. If they start looking weak, then next week--after the guests are gone--I'll invite the deer over for lunch.

As it started to get dark, Jason got the fire going and I brought out the bag of marshmallows and box of graham crackers.

Now, I ask you: is there anything more lovely than spending a Sunday evening roasting marshmallows in your own backyard? I even got so caught up in how fun and exciting it was that I totally forgot about the Oscars (even though I had been planning all afternoon on watching them, drat it!). I didn't realize my forgetfulness until this morning, at which point I was, I admit, kind of bummed. But then I remembered what Sydney said to me last night when we all headed inside after filling our tummies with sugar:

"That was so. much. fun. SO much," at which point she smiled and sighed and turned her eyes to the heavens in sheer bliss.

Well, if I had to miss the Oscars for anything then I'd want to miss it for something that was so much fun.

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

My Clarification of My Publisher

Last week I mentioned how I'm on a conquest to organize all our photos and get them in photo albums. One of the things that has held me back from doing this before is the cropping. I send my pictures off to Costco, but then Costco crops them to 4x6, which usually means a little off the top and a little off the bottom. It's not their fault, but if I'm not careful then I get photos back where people's heads are chopped off.

To avoid this issue, in the past I have manually cropped all the photos that I wanted printed. I hate this. It's tedious. It's too many decisions for one little photo. I don't want decisions. I just want it done.

That's where My Publisher came to the rescue. I just take the photo, drop it into the photo box on the template, and voila! I instantly see how it's going to be printed. I can zoom in if I want to crop it closer, but if it looks fine--no heads chopped off, no missing feet or hands--then I call it good. My Publisher has saved my photo sanity, and I'm just as tickled as a kid in a candy shop. With real sugar in the candy, mind you. None of this hocus pocus sugar free stuff.

 

However, I wanted to clarify what I said last week about the books being $35. Turns out, as I learned when I went to buy the book, the first 20 pages are $30. Then every page after that is $1. Somehow I had overlooked this little fact. My Publisher even has a feature in the program that lets you know how much your book is going to cost, but I failed to use it.

So. When I took my gorgeous photo book to the "check-out," I was a little distraught to see that my 91-page book was going to ring up as $100. I'll confess now that I would have paid $100 because I'd spent all that time and energy and enthusiasm and prayer in that one book, there was no turning back. But I was seriously bummed that my plan of creating a book for every six months wasn't going to work.

However, the silver lining is that because I'm a Costco member and had downloaded My Publisher from the Costco photo site, then I got a discount. Their coupons may change at any given moment, but it appears to be that currently the deal is 45% off orders over $100. For orders under $100, the discount is 25%. This means that if I had a 90-page book (totaling $99) my total would have been somewhere in the ballpark of $80-ish dollars (there's shipping to take into account). My 91-page book (totaling $100) cost $62, with shipping.

Thought you should know since I had even verbally mentioned to a few of you how amazing it was that I was getting nearly 100 pages of photo album for $30. I lied. Or rather. I was mistaken, and now I am correcting my ways. The lessons learned: if it seems too good to be true, maybe it is. AND, it's worth it to be a Costco member. I'd say, even if you weren't interested in buying toilet paper and diapers in bulk, if you're planning on doing a bunch of photo albums, it's worth it to get the Costco membership. Plus, who can beat their $1.50 deal of a polish dog/hot dog with a soda? Brilliant.

If you're interested in looking at more family photos than you ever thought you wanted to see of my family, here's a low-res version of the album (it takes several seconds to load). I'm taking a break from putting together 'January-June 2007' because clearly this is a project that once I start, I can't keep away from.

*****

(c) 2008 Creature Bug. All rights reserved.

Week 194: Busy not blogging

I have undertaken the monumental task of putting our pictures in photo albums. This has been a resolution of mine for, oh, the last four years. I have albums completed up until Sydney was born, or rather just before she was born. Just now I'm getting around to dealing with the folders and folders of photos that I have saved on my hard drive (and an external for back-up). It's quite handy that my pictures are so marvelously organized by month as it makes this whole project much easier.

I have to say that I'm really getting a great deal of satisfaction out of choosing pictures and then designing the layout for the page. It brings back grand and glorious memories of the days I used to teach yearbook. My mind is a running monologue of words like white space, eye lines, and thematic design elements. I have dedicated a certain number of pages to each month, and the page that introduces the next month is a consistent design throughout the album. Instead of using traditional albums, I've decided just to go the route of using My Publisher. Yes, it's more expensive than just printing the pictures at Costco and putting them in an album. No, I don't care. I can swing $35 for a 100-page album. (Note to my dad: you should totally be doing this! REALLY. It's a matter of family urgency that you get the photos in order since we'll never be able to figure out your organizational system to do it ourselves.)

(Here's a spread from the Christmas pages, and yes, I broke the eyeline on this spread and have come to terms with it. Turns out it's very tricky to keep eyelines in My Publisher. No big deal.)

The plan is to do two albums per year, one for the first six months and one for the last six months. The plan was also to complete a month a day (beginning with last July and then working forward), and I started this whole photo project last Friday. Tomorrow I finish book one. Right on schedule.

 

Unfortunately, I've gone from "I'll get around to organizing the photos sometime," to "I'm organizing the photos now! At this moment! Get out of the way!" That's good for keeping momentum going, not so good when I should have mailed out Valentine's cards last Saturday and will instead be mailing them out tomorrow. I feel awful about my tardy cards, but nothing I can do about it now. Except do better next year.

*****

I gave up daytime blogging and websurfing for Lent (which is to say, no Internet stuff except email while the girls are awake). I don't miss the websurfing. It was time for a change because over the last few months I  found myself just migrating towards the computer to check on this, check on that, and before I knew it, an hour later I'm reading the court transcripts from Britney's child-custody case while my girls pull on my arms begging me to come play with them. Bleh.

So, after some soul searching, it seemed like I needed to back off a little. I just didn't need to be on the web that much. I didn't. I don't. I get frazzled that I've wasted my time, frustrated that things that should get done aren't getting done, and impatient with my sweet little girls who need me way more than anyone needs my comment on their latest post. Hard to believe, but it's true.

It's oddly freeing, keeping away from reading news on the Internet. However, it's been a lot harder to keep away from blogging, whether reading, writing, or commenting. It had become so much a part of my daily life that stepping away--even if just for a few hours--was really hard. It was a habit that needed to change though. My advance apologies if you post some critical news and I'm not johnny-on-the-spot to comment. I think about you though. Honestly.

And speaking of Lent, if you're looking for a book that doesn't dwell too much on the denominational aspect of Lent and instead focuses on the spiritual journey, I am thoroughly enjoing the book I'm using as a daily devotional, Small Surrenders. Very thought provoking. Highly recommend it.

*****

Sydney had a dentist appointment today, and I've figured out the way to make her look forward to that is to schedule an eye appointment the day before. As she said today, "Dentists are fun. Eye doctors are not fun. That new toothbrush is very funny!"

The dentist appointment went splendidly. The eye appointment still has me blinking slowly, warming up to the idea that Sydney needs bifocals. Already her prescription is +6.00 in her right eye and +6.5 in her left eye; the bifocals add another +3 to the bottom half of her glasses. I didn't think it would bother me that her eyesight is unchanged and in some cases worse, but it does. I started to write about it last night, but it was too emotional for me. I'm not as brave as Sydney is.

*****

I baked eight dozen cookies to take to my students today as an early Valentine's gift. Even though I have class on Thursday--which would be a more appropriate time to give them cookies--several of the students will be gone on account of baseball and softball games. I thought they deserved cookies too, so I stayed up until 11 o'clock last night finishing off the last batch.

I'm pretty sure the only thing they'll remember about today's class is that they got cookies.

I'm okay with that.

*****

I'm so glad you all approve of Trader Joe's. Which isn't to say that I'm searching for approval, except that sometimes I am. Also, I should note that Corvallis DOESN'T have a Trader Joes (thanks, Jen, for pointing that out). Eugene has one. Now I know what I'll be doing while Jason is running the Eugene Marathon in May.

(c) 2008 Creature Bug. All rights reserved.

Week 193: For Uncle Nathan and Aunt Carolyn

When your aunt and uncle (that would be Jason's brother and SIL) live in Rhode Island, there's really no option on who to cheer for during the Superbowl.

Come over to our house and you'll see me scampering into the livingroom during the commercials, you'll hear Sydney cheering, "GO PATRIOTS!" as she consumes a whole bag of Cheetos (which she has been looking forward to all weekend), and if you aren't cheering for the Pats, there's no telling what you'll feel.

I'll warn you though: someone has very sharp teeth and isn't afraid to use them.

Here's to a perfect season!

*****

(c) 2008 Creature Bug. All rights reserved.

I *heart* banners

As much as I loved that last banner--two smiling children! at the camera! matching outfits!--it was time to send it to banner heaven. I had three different photo sessions and one professional photo session in my attempt to get a picture of the girls together, smiling, worthy of sending out for our annual Valentine's Day card.

Individually, I have dozens of fabulous pictures.

Together, they have conspired against me. It's like entering one of Dante's circles of hell. Without the heat. And the ragged clothing.

Oh well. New banner up. Not sure if I like that smug expression on Julsies' face. She knows they won this round.

Fish face, giggles and all.

*****

(c) 2008 Creature Bug. All rights reserved.

Heart

Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart.  ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

My heart is full.

Week 191: It's furry cold

Even though my students from Alaska and Wyoming make fun of me when I complain about the cold, the low temperature tomorrow is 15 degrees. FIFTEEN. I don't care where you live, that's cold. I hear it's supposed to get up to 33 degrees tomorrow, which barely squeaks in under my range of acceptable temperatures. I am opposed to all temperatures lower than my age, and every year that I get older I lose a degree of tolerance for cold weather (this will explain a lot when I'm 60 and end up moving to Florida). Romantic wintertime vacations to Maine aside, I can't bring myself to get outside much when it's so cold.

However, it still remains necessary to leave the house every once in awhile. And when it's this cold outside the only thing to do is bring out the bear skin coats, trimmed with fox fur.

What's that? You don't have bear skin coats, trimmed with fox fur? That's too bad. They're so warm. Actually, we only have one bear skin coat, and it almost fits our largest little bear cub. (Post Script: My dad tells me he doesn't think the brown fur is bear skin, but rather something else less exotic, like sheep skin. Little Bear was momentarily disappointed before saying, "Maybe I could be a lion, maybe?")

Jason's grandma got this coat in Alaska almost thirty years ago, before it was politically incorrect to dress children in real animal furs. (And also, as Jason said today on the way to church, there's something about wearing real fur that is "very sad.") Grandma actually got two coats, which Jason's cousins wore before passing them down to Jason and his brother. We now are the proud owners of one of the coats, and Jason's cousin owns the other one.

Little Bear finds the coat very entertaining, and she also feels quite daring in it. I feel a little bit alarmed, in a highly comical sense, like I'm walking beside a tiny bear cub.

Watch out. She's fierce.

caught my eye

Simple beauty...

and simply beautiful.

itty bitty present

Even though Jason surprised me with the amazing and wonderful trip to Camden for my Christmas present, he also got me a few other things--the latest issue of People magazine and a box of chocolate covered cherries (traditions since we first got married), as well as a couple other things. Probably the gift that I have spent the most time with is one which, I admit, I asked specifically for:

Photoshop actions.

Photoshop and I had a tenuous relationship beginning with my days of teaching high school yearbook (and making the bold, while somewhat insane, choice of moving the yearbook to a digital-photo format despite knowing virtually nothing about digital photography). However, over the past couple years Photoshop and I have made positive steps in building a comfortable relationship. I don't try to get too fancy; it doesn't refuse to permit me from undoing my photo missteps. We get along.

Then I started reading Confessions of a Pioneer Woman, and was smitten with Ree's educational and informative Photoshop posts. Some people read her blog for her how-I-met-my-man stories; some like to gaze at her lovely photos; some learn cooking techniques and recipes from her; some enjoy her ranch tales of cows and horses and all things related to farm animal and small children. I read her blog for the Photoshop tips.

And I paid attention when she gave a plug to Itty Bitty Actions, which allows for easier photo enhancement in Photoshop. I asked Jason if he would get it for me for Christmas, and he being the romantic man that he is, allowed me to plug in our credit card number and get it myself. (He surprised me with the Maine trip, so it was fine that there wasn't the least bit surprise in this present.)

Sure, you can do a Google search for Photoshop actions and come up with a whole slew of links. Some sites even offer free downloads, which might be tempting were it not for the bikini-clad pictures of women on the sidebars (eew). Since I didn't want to hassle with getting bogus or worthless actions, I didn't mind paying the $99 to Itty Bitty.

Witness the fun I've had so far:

Here's what they call the SOOC shot (straight out of the camera). It's cute. It's solemn. It advocates baby literacy. But I messed around with my itty bitty actions, and came up with this:

Admittedly, the colors might be a bit over done, but still. Pretty nifty, huh? I used the Simple Color, Level 2 action and the Subject Lite-n-Glow action. And I reluctantly cropped out the book, which hopefully won't mean that illiteracy is in her future.

I had all sorts of fun messing around with my pictures from Maine, but the one I loved the most was this one from this post:

I love this photo. Love it to a million itty bitty pieces. I want to frame it and hang it in my house somewhere, except that our walls aren't well suited for vertical pictures. But in our future house, I might  build a wall just for this photo. I don't know why I like it so much. Something about that green kayak that makes me happy, even though I don't actual go kayaking myself (although thanks to J-L I can tell a great kayak joke).

Before I got to this photo, however, I had this one:

Clearly, the SOOC photo didn't capture the contrast that I remembered from when I took the photo. I suppose there is a good argument to be made for the falsity of changing photos in Photoshop, but I figure I'm not really changing anything other than bringing out certain colors. And I made the decision to get rid of those hay bales. Just because. I can't tell you what actions I did to get the final version, and I'm even a little bit afraid I couldn't replicate it even if I tried. There was a lot of adjusting, and layering, and percentages, and all that.

  They may be itty bitty actions, but they are big barrels of fun.

A Love Project

Leslie got it right in her last comment: I am still on a vacation high. Even through a stuffed up nose, through Jules working on a molar and feeling rather needy since my return, through cold and rainy weather--I am still feeling the love from our weekend back east. At any rate, it's far more interesting to write about that than what I did today, which was watch Sound of Music with Syd and then sing that Cuckoo song for the rest of the day. Don't get me wrong; there's a certain charm to Sound of Music. I'm a big Julie Andrews fan, but I don't know if I could write very much about her. Maybe I could.

Rather than find out, I have one more batch of photos to show you from Camden.

 

If you go to Camden you really ought to stay in a Bed & Breakfast. Sure, there are hotels around (even nice charming ones right in the center of the village), but Camden is full of wonderful B&Bs that treat you to delicious breakfasts, fabulous conversations, and romantic quarters. Both times we've visited Camden, we've stayed at the Windward House, and I know when we go back we'll stay there again.

It's quite a story how we ended up at the Windward House the first time around. I had originally made reservations at the Blue Harbor House, who I found through a Maine Visitor's Guide. The week before our wedding, I called the innkeepers to confirm our reservations. Not sure why I felt compelled to confirm, it just seemed like the thing to do. Probably had it on my Wedding To Do checklist.

Imagine my complete shock when the innkeeper told me, "We have you staying here this weekend."

"This weekend?" My heart sank. "But I don't get married until next weekend."

"So you wouldn't be able to move up your stay?" Not likely.

They were full the weekend of the wedding, and since it was high travel season in Maine, chances were good that every place would be full. I started sobbing on the phone, and the poor lady felt awfully terrible about it all. I couldn't even continue the conversation, so I just hung up and sobbed out the whole story to my mom. It was a week before my wedding, and the honeymoon that I had been planning for months had suddenly fallen apart. If you've ever been around a bride-to-be, you know that this was quite the hysterical moment in our house.

Fortunately, my mom kept her cool and called the Blue Harbor House back. Could they see if any place had any openings? Well, by golly, they had called around, and the Windward House had just had a cancellation in their nicest room and would love to have us. The Windward House innkeeper (at the time) called me personally to assure me that everything would be taken care of. I could have married him right then. Except, you know, not really.

 

So the Windward House saved the day back in 1997, and it saved the day again in 2007 when we were searching for a place to vacation. The innkeepers have changed, but we are just totally smitten with the new owners. Jesse and Kristi are the nicest folks, and have young children themselves so we totally connected with them about eating out, visiting the library, and vacationing. Plus, they were fabulous conversationalists about all sorts of other things too. We hope they stay there for several more years, so we can visit them again.

Loved loved loved the room we stayed in: the Windrose Suite.

Jason had ordered the chocolate covered strawberries (*swoon*), but the chocolate truffles and champagne were an anniversary gift from Jesse and Kristi. I had consumed half the strawberries before euphorically wandering out of the sitting room into the bedroom.

The most comfortable bed I have slept on in my entire life. Worth flying to Maine just to sleep in this bed. Trust me.

No vacation is complete without a soaking tub, which I have promised myself to own one day in our new house. We stayed two nights at the Windward House. I took three baths. And finished two books. And slept in until 9 am. And sat by the fireplace. And ate chocolate. And homemade cookies. And then sat by the fire some more.

 

And when we weren't doing any of those things, we walked down the street to the village where we shopped, and ate seafood, and browsed the stores, and watched the water, and visited the library where I sat in a big beanbag chair in the children's section and read Parenting magazine.

As if that wasn't enough--and it was--we woke up the day we were driving back to Boston for our afternoon flight out to seven inches of new snow. It was everything a dream vacation should be. (Of course, we had a moment of worry about the snow until we saw all the snowplows out clearing the roads. Fabulous New Englanders and their snow preparedness.)

The one final twist to our vacation that was an extra bit of fun was getting to participate in A Love Project. A young couple created this project, traveling all over the country leaving boxes in certain rooms at B&Bs (you should check out their story...quite interesting). The only instructions are to leave a love note in the box, which will be collected at the end of this year and then the love notes are going to be published in a book. Funny thing is, Jason had planned to reserve the same room we had stayed in for our honeymoon, and when he told me about the trip it was available. Then when he went to make reservations, it was booked, so we got a different room--the room participating in the Love Project. Perfect.

We're already talking about going back next December. I suppose there's a good argument for trying out a new destination, but there's just something about Camden that brings out the best in us. It's a special place, and even though there are a dozen B&Bs in Camden, we'll go back to the Windward House. For Jesse and Kristi. For the homemade cookies. For the bathtub and fireplace. For the place that saved the day.

 

Pictures from Camden

One thing I was determined to do when we visited Camden this time: take pictures. Even though I did take pictures when we honeymooned there, it's quite the sad story about that. While I wasn't a fabulous photographer, I could still manage to capture the shots I wanted. There was the picture of the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean. The picture of the skunk that wandered in front of us while we sat by the bay. Pictures of the room we honeymooned in. Nothing amazing, but still. They were pictures of The Honeymoon.

Of course, back then there were no digital cameras, so I trusted on my 35mm camera to pull through. The camera pulled through. That first roll of film, however, did not. When I got the film back from the developers--film that was given to us by family in an effort to save us the trouble of having to go buy it--I learned that it had been exposed not once, but twice before. We did have pictures from the second half of the trip, but not of our first few days in Camden.