Poop happens

Athletes train for months, even years, to acquire the skills necessary to stay at the top of their game. Eventually they retire, start to get a little soft, then someone trots them out for an old-timers' game and it is obvious that they've lost their edge.
This has happened to me, but not with my athletic prowess. I have lost my poop tolerance. The one skill absolutely necessary for raising a baby. If humans had no poop tolerance, babies wouldn't stand much of a chance, because they'd be chained out back, with a bowl of water and a bone. Instead, we catch the poop in a cute little diaper, obsess over whether it is too hard or too soft, then add it to the pile of poopy diapers in a specially-designed garbage can, which, in our case, sat in the living room.
That is, of course, when you have a baby. The boys are now three, and since they have been potty trained for almost a year now, I am a little out of practice in the poop department. This became evident earlier this week when I went to wake the boys up in the morning, and was greeted by an unmistakable stench in their room. Assuming one of the cats had left a present for us, I started sniffing for the source. As I was crawling around on my hands and knees, looking for a little pile, Riley rolls over and says, "Hey, Mommy, my pants are kinda wet."
Yes, they were.
Although I tried to stay nonchalant, I was gagging internally as I carried him down to the bathroom, holding him by the armpits and keeping him a good arm's length away from me. We managed to save the Spider-man pajamas, but the underpants went right outside to the trash, seeing as how we no longer have the specially designated trash can in the house. I got him cleaned up, and even after stripping the bed, scrubbing the bathtub and washing my hands about ten times, that smell seemed to linger in my nostrils. I don't understand how I managed to change all those stinky diapers without batting an eye just a few short years ago!

Have tools, will travel

Aaron is amazing. He can look at a tired, broken down old bathroom and see something completely shiny and new. I don't understand how his mind works, but it is fascinating to watch him in action. We recently spent most of Thanksgiving week working on my mom's bathroom. The old plaster ceiling had fallen down, and instead of simply repairing it, Aaron thought it would be a good time to remodel. So we attacked the walls, chipping away at tiles and ancient plaster. For days, all Riley wanted to do was "work," also known as methodically chipping away at the remaining plaster with a hammer, until all that was left was the lathe underneath. It was really fun to watch him, so focused on making a humongous mess!
When we weren't racing against the clock to get the bathroom finished (which, guess what, is not QUITE done) we were staying at my dad's. We had fun over there, the boys especially, who liked to check out all the extremely breakable stuff like Chinese vases and glass chess sets. To their credit though, nothing got destroyed. Whenever they got a little crazy, we found we could pacify them with this amazing invention called On Demand Cable. With a push of a button, they could watch as many episodes of Little Bear and Bob the Builder and Blues Clues as they wanted. Amazing stuff. Too bad we don't have that fancy cable stuff at our house!
All in all, the trip was hectic, but fun. It was good to get to spend that much time with my parents. Since we now live about 6 hours away, visits are usually limited to a weekend, and the boys don't get as much grandma and grandpa time as they should.
Everybody always makes a list of things they are thankful for over the holidays. Of course I am thankful that I have a wonderful loving family that still gets along despite a divorce and remarriage. I am thankful that my brother made the drive up from Memphis in the middle of the night so he and his friend could eat turkey with us. I am thankful for my amazing husband who spent so much time last week doing something nice for his mother-in-law. I am thankful for the boys, who bring such joy to everyone around them. I am thankful that despite the busyness of our lives there is a lot of fun to be had.
So in addition to my list full of of sappy gratitude, here are a few things we learned over Thanksgiving:
















1. It's okay to eat French toast for dinner.
2. When you brag to friends about how well-behaved your kids are, they will melt down in public and you will have to drag them screaming to the car.
3. Playing with Daddy's tools never gets old.
4. Whether you are 3 or 30, see-saws are fun.
5. When the kids get into a fistfight over a puzzle, it is time for bed.
6. When you are still updating your blog at 11 p.m., it is time for bed.

Goodnight!

Shout Out

Wow. Last post was around Halloween. I guess I am not doing too well on keeping up with the blog. I know this because Aaron says his boss, Eric, checks here all the time to see if there is something new, and well, lately, there hasn't been. Its been a combination of being really busy with a lot of mundane crap that seems to take up a lot of time but yet does not seem to be worth writing about. So anyway, Eric, this post is for you. SHOUT OUT! Give me an E! Give me an R! Give me an I! Give me a C! What's that spell? ERIC! Yay ERIC!

And yes, there will be more posts to come in the very near future.

Happy Halloween!

I love Halloween. I think it is my favorite holiday. There is something about the spookiness, and the costumes, and the idea that it is okay to be a little bit weird and different. There's the carving of pumpkins, and of course, the candy, although now that I am older there is more of a love/hate relationship wih the candy. Now that the boys are old enough to really understand the holiday, it is even more fun. We carved our pumpkins a couple weeks ago, with the girls, before we left on our epic road trip to NJ. They had a great time using the pumpkin carving knives, and nobody even ended up with a flesh wound! But the day or two after we carved them, it rained, and the boys were devastated when we got back from our trip and the pumpkins had melted into a big pile of black mushy goo on the front porch. :(
Tonight we went over to our friends' house for dinner and trick or treating. The Kujacznskis live in the best trick or treating neighborhood in the area, and you can tell by the number of almost-too-old-teenagers walking around without costumes, looking for free candy. The boys had a good time, scored a pile of candy and didn't get scared at all. Riley was very disapointed though, when a great Darth Vader we saw in the neighborhood didn't stop by the house for candy. Perhaps he was busy using the Jedi mind trick to relieve other kids of their candy; at any rate, he didn't stop by for snickers.

Spell check

Every so often in my line of work I have the opportunity to take a picture that resonates with people. I mean, a picture with meaning and depth that speaks to the very essence of humanity. Other times, you drive someplace with the kids in the back seat, jump out of the car, engine still running, and snap a few frames of the road. Somehow the above picture made it onto our front page, the Associated Press wire service, San Francisco Chronicle and Seattle Times websites, and yes, even David Letterman! Letterman used it to close out a segment on his show called small-town news last week. Unfortunately Letterman is on a little bit too late for me, and I didn't see the show. So if any of you are closet Letterman fans who Tivo every show, let me know, I would love to see it!

Wood

Did you know that your 5th wedding anniversary is your wood anniversary? Neither did we, until Aaron and I were driving out to Maine for a long weekend without the kiddos, and one of his friends mentioned it. Although we never make a big deal about exchanging gifts for our anniversary, we just happened to be planning to buy the rest of the cedar siding for our house. Not the most romantic anniversary gift, but when you think about it, wood can be an interesting metaphor for marriage. Solid. Strong. Beautiful. If you take care of it, it will weather the passing years beautifully. If you neglect it, it begins to rot and fall apart. Every so often Aaron and I take a long weekend to get away by ourselves, to have some grown-up fun and remember what it is like to just be together, without worrying about the dirty house, piles of laundry, or the 10,000 other things we never seem to get done. It's hard to find the time, but it's important to us. We're taking care of our relationship now, so it will be able to weather the many years to come. In the grand scheme of things, 5 years isn't a long time, but to me it seems like a milestone. A good solid start. Let's see where it takes us.

Our trip out to Maine was short and sweet, we left on a Thursday afternoon and drove through Canada to New York state, then slept amazingly comfortably in the back of the truck. I, having never slept in a truck before, thought it was pretty funny. I love road trips and it had been a while since I had been on one. I kept having these fits of giddy giggling, which Aaron didn't quite understand. But he is on the road a whole lot more than I am. Give me a break, I don't get out much ;) The next day we finished the drive through the never-ending state of New York (almost as bad as Ohio) and through a gorgeous part of northern Massachusetts, then up into southern Maine. That night we had dinner in Portsmouth, NH, then fell alseep, exhausted, at around 10 p.m. It is amazing how tired you can get from doing absolutely nothing except sitting in a car! The next morning we woke up, thinking it was 7 or 8, but a check of a clock told us we had slept in until 10:30! Neither one of us could remember the last time we slept that late, it had to have been in the pre-twin era!
Saturday was kind of a blur, we got the siding for our house, (Thanks Bob!) Aaron decided to whip out some bookshelves for the boys in his dad's shop, then it was off to lobster dinner, a must on a trip to Maine. I have to say I love the idea of lobster, but the whole process of de-shelling it and scraping all the green gunky lobster poo off of my food just doesn't do it for me. I had a lobster wrap instead. Let some poor schmo in the kitchen deal with all that lobster poo, not me!
We had drinks with our Bostonian friend, Lauren, who moved from Kalamazoo about 5 years ago, then called it a night, because I had talked Aaron into driving into the White Mountains of NH to attempt to hike up Mt. Washington.
The hike was amazing. the trail was rocky and steep and nothing like a trail you would see in Michigan. Just when your thighs are burning and you don't think you can keep going, you look behind you and are rewarded with the most amazing views. Which is good, because it gives you frequent excuses to stop and catch your breath—I mean, take pictures.
We hiked up Tuckerman's Ravine, which in the winter is a famous backcountry ski spot. It was crazy steep, there's no way I would ski that thing! After you get to the top of the ravine, you see this giant pile of rocks stretching up into the clouds and then you realize those tiny colored things up there are actually people.
You still have a long way to go. We scrambled from boulder to boulder and over little patches of snow (yes! it was cold up there!) until we got to the top, where you are rewarded for all your efforts with the sight of — cars, lots of them. Breaking the peace and serenity of nature are familes with whining kids eating pizza from the snack bar at the visitor's center.
We knew there was an auto road to the top, but it is stll awfully disconcerting to have spent 4 hours hiking through the woods and then end up at a crowded tourist attraction. We hiked back down by another trail with more amazing views, and ended up back at the car 8 hours after we started. We were tired and sore, but I can't wait to do it again. We drove back to Aaron's dad's house, barely awake, and crashed.
Monday we got up at 4 a.m. and started the long trek back to Michigan. We did the drive all in one day, which I don't recommend. Next time I will ask for more time off!
Here are some pics from our trip:

I am old

My thirtieth birthday came and went without much fanfare, I didn't stress the number too much. I have, for the past few years imagined myself to be "just out of college." I cling to the notion that I am one of those cool moms who can still hang with those much younger than I and know what they talking about. Those gray hairs that keep popping up? Nothing to worry about. Recently though, I have realized that I am quickly becoming my own worst nightmare. I am old. I would much rather go to a quiet club than a loud concert. Crowds annoy me. I have started regaling my younger coworkers with stories that start, "Yeah, back when I started taking picures, we had to ...." Even college kids, the group with which I still associate myself, now seem to be so young I can't relate. For example, yesterday I had an assignment to shoot pictures of some new college roommates who got to know each other on facebook.com before meeting in person. We were talking in their room, which was about the size of my own college dorm room, so I was reminiscing about my freshman year of college and how I met my first roommate. I said, "Yeah, I think I wrote a letter to my future roommate." A letter. Handwritten, not typed. I probably sent her a picture too. Shot on film. As I was saying it, I was thinking to myself, "Why didn't I just send her an email?
I told the girls, " Wow, this makes me sound really old (Oh, but I am, aren't I?), but I never had an email account until I went to college." They just kind of looked at me. Come to think of it, I never even owned my own computer until after I graduated college. It was't until I was asking their ages (both 17) and did some quick math that I realized the ugly truth. Those girls were 5 when I started college 12 years ago. 5? 5? As in starting kindergarten? I might as well whip out my cane and start complaining about my arthritis!
I