At Market's End

I should warn you: this is going to be yet another overly gushy post about how much I love my girls.  It should really go without saying, but I still can't help saying it.

The Farmer's Market is a bright spot in our lives every Friday, five months out of the year.  I eagerly await it's opening in the Spring and equally dread the last Market in the Fall...well, I suppose the Friday after the last market is most depressing. 

The Farmer's Market isn't just a venue in which to purchase delicious produce, meat and a variety of other handmade goods, but an opportunity to become a part of a community: to support local farmers and small business owners, to create bonds and relationships with the people making food and goods for your family.  It's a beautiful thing.

What is even more beautiful is how much Audrey and Bailey love the Market.  We tend to hit up the same sellers every week; the 'bread guy' the 'wine lady' and a host of other people who the girls have steadily charmed over the months.  Some of these people, we've known through the years and most of them, right down to the guy singing Johnny Cash covers mentioned looking forward to seeing the girls next Spring. 

This is community--something that I never really valued until I had children.  I am blessed to be surrounded by so much loveliness and sad to know that it will be so long before we have the opportunity to see these people again.  It makes me all the more determined to find ways to integrate ourselves into our community outside of the Farmer's Market.  Having kids this adorable, it would really be selfish to hog all that cuteness.  The world must know!
  

Homesick

I am the baby in my family: the youngest of three siblings and the second youngest of fourteen maternal cousins, whom I spent nearly every holiday and family event with as a small child.  I have always been one of the youngest people in any group I've been involved in: my family, my graduating class, every job I've ever held, not to mention the age gap between my husband and I (and subsequently his siblings).  I am the baby.  It's my lot in life.  I've accepted the benefits of being the baby (anyone who is a 'baby' or is the jealous older sibling of one should understand that these are numerous), but I've always taken pride in defying the tradition of hanging on to the parental units and reaping the benefits of being cared for as only the baby in the family can be.  On the contrary, I feel like I identified more with my older siblings and was eager to get a job (at the age of 14) to make my own money...to buy pants that weren't tapered or two inches too short (it wasn't Mom's fault that I was growing like a weed).  Having paid my own way to go on an exchange trip to Germany for a month when I was 16, I pretty much felt like I was ready to take over the world.  So, you can understand that the next two years were excruciating, waiting for the opportunity to go to college and subsequently make my own way. 

I very vividly remember dropping my brother off at college; he was the first one out of the nest and it was an emotional event for all of us.  There was lots of crying...all the way home from Rolla.  When Emily went to college, we went on a pilgrimage to Chicago to help her integrate into life at U of C.  By the time my parents were ready to empty their nest, they followed me the two-hour drive to Springfield, hauled my boxes to my dorm room...we might have eaten lunch, but by that time, they were old pro's at the whole getting children out of the house thing and it was pretty much just 'drive home if you want to see us'.  No big deal. 

It really wasn't.  I drove home pretty frequently for the weekends and making it for the holidays was a given.  Even when I met John and we got engaged, we visited his family for Christmas but were always able to make it to Mountain Home for Thanksgiving and New Years. 

Homesickness through this all was never really an issue; I had moved out of the house, but was still just a few hours away from almost my entire family.  I was independent, but still connected.  Obviously, the dynamic changed when we moved to Washington, but through it all, my family and I have made a concerted effort to see each other several times a year and to make sure the girls get plenty of Skype time.  I've missed my family and wished they could be with us, but never in my life have I really experienced what I would express as genuine pangs of homesickness.

Until now.

I haven't been home since last Christmas.  I've seen my family: my Mom and Dad and brother and sister, but I have much more family...FAMILY that I want to hug and show my children off to...and I'm not just limiting this to my biological family but the larger group of individuals I consider to be my God-gifted family too.

It has been so heavy on my heart--the need to see and hug and kiss these treasured people--to share a meal or a game of cards or a conversation that simply can't be had over the phone.  My heart aches to be home and I know that God can make it happen...I just don't know how yet.  And that's what kills me.  I am anxious to know how He will be at work.  To see how He will bring me through this heartache.  Pray with me, will you?  For the first time ever, this baby NEEDS her family and they are so far away.     

Leavenworth 2011

This past weekend, we carried on our October tradition of heading to the mountains to visit the quaint village of Leavenworth, WA.  Our day was filled with delicious sausage, light smatterings of rain and more dogs than you could shake a stick at.  After our relaxing weekend here, sans kiddos, back in May, it was interesting to see Leavenworth through the eyes of three crazy kids.  (Jackie and Calvin came along to round out our motley crew.)     

Leavenworth is absolutely gorgeous this time of year; it's sad that we have to drive nearly three hours to find deciduous trees, but it was totally worth it to see them in their fall glory. The village of Leavenworth definitely survives on tourism, but it's incredible charm and even more impressive culinary offerings makes it worth every minute in the car with three toddlers.   We timed our trip so we'd have the opportunity to eat at least two meals in town; such is the level of our commitment.  

We had planned on catching lunch at Munchen Haus, but on the way happened upon a brand spanking new sausage garden owned by the same people as Cured (our favorite cured meat specialists).  If I wasn't already stoked about our impending awesome sausage experience, I hardly kept myself from leaping over the counter to kiss the owner when I heard him talking to the line chef standing at the grill: "Listen, when people start lining up like this, they're going to order s#*.  So, just throw some s#*t on." 

That, my friends, is excellent management.  And we were not disappointed; whatever that line chef threw on the grill tasted fantastic.

After our fortifying lunch we quickly found it is not so easy to leisurely meander through quaint shops with three rambunctious kiddos in tow, so instead, we did a lot of window shopping with frequent stops to attack unsuspecting people's dogs.  

Since we've been to Leavenworth several times,  we're pretty familiar with most of the local shops and attractions, but were pleasantly surprised by some of the village's new additions.  We found a store that specializes in roasted and glazed nuts where I picked up some vanilla and cinnamon roasted pecans.  Another new find was a tea shop where Audrey, Bailey and Calvin absolutely charmed the pants off the staff.  It's hard not to when you're that cute...I mean, what else are you going to do? I also picked up a box of chocolates at the best place in town: Schocolat. 

After listening to the live festive music in the park and letting the kiddos run amok in the fall leaves and squishy grass, we headed over to our favorite place: Andrea's Keller.  This place serves the most authentic German food I've been able to find stateside and I absolutely love their weisswurst and spatzle.  What shocked me was how much Audrey liked the rotkohl (sauerkraut made with red cabbage and wine).  Bailey ate her weight in spatzle and she and Calvin kept each other amused throughout dinner talking about their bandaids (earned during the aforementioned jaunt in the park).  After dinner we rolled our happy bellies down to pick up some cheese at the Cheesemonger's shop and some gelato for the road.  All in all, it was a very filling (literally), gratifying day.  Leavenworth and gluttony kind of go hand in hand, so now it's back to reality and a more mundane menu.  

At least I've got those cute kids around to lift me from my lack-of-wurst depression.   

Those Were The Days...

At some point in my life, I'm going to look back with intense longing and wish that I could just exist in a time when everything was so good it almost seemed wrong that anyone could be so blessed.

Those days are now. 

I have had plenty of life-changing experiences and fond memories in my short 26 years on this earth and for the most part, things have been good.  I had an idyllic childhood, par-for-the-course dramatic teen years, college rebellion shortly followed by meeting my best friend in the world and making some incredibly cute babies with him. 

I still look back at pictures of our girls when they were wee babes and have sweet pangs of longing for the feeling of wonderment that is inherent in bringing another human being into this world.  But you know what?  Pretty much nothing tops what we've got going on right now.  The miracle of life has got nothing on how beautiful it is to see two little beings that you've incubated and subsequently given life to just absolutely rock this world.  I love leaving the house with those two, and really, it can just be a trip to the mailbox or the grocery store, but I can guarantee you that those two are going to touch someone else's life and it's going to be for the better. 

Every day, I see this.  And you have no idea how cool that is.  I want to be like my daughters.  I want people to be able to just look at me and find their day is a little brighter.  Unfortunately I am not three years old with a propensity to break into song/dance in public, nor do I single out perfect strangers and greet them like it's the greatest part of my day. 

The point is, I have people who do that for me.  Every day.  All day.  And I can't imagine that there is any greater goal than bringing joy and brightness into the life of every person you meet.  We could all learn something from those girls. 

I wouldn't suggest starting with song and dance, but a flippy skirt and a smile might do the trick. 

Good Cop, Pumpkin Patch Style

I know I've already been waxing sentimental about Fall and going on at length about how we've been welcoming this beautiful season, but I really don't feel I've officially embraced Fall without hitting up a pumpkin patch.  We are lucky here in the Tri-Cities to have Country Mercantile (also known as 'the fruit place' by my Mother) which hosts one heck of a shindig for those wishing to embrace Autumn to it's fullest.

We've been out every year since Audrey was born to pick our pumpkins, but have either skirted around the festivities or come as a small group and haven't had access to the whole enchilada...and I say that because they do have a taco stand...with Mexican coke in the bottle...sigh.  I don't know what it is about those glass bottles, but they do me in every time.  And I really mean that, because not only am I ingesting way more sugar than my body is used to, but they had no glass recycling on site and I ended up hauling four of them back home.

It was worth it.   

I digress!  This year, we headed out on Sunday afternoon with Jackie, Nate and Calvin to revel in some Fall goodness.  The festival they put on is pretty crazy, complete with a carousel, kid-sized roller coaster, gigantic bounce house and ponies!  You can guess what we hit up first.  This time, we actually let Bailey saddle up too and, like her big sister, she took to it like a duck to water.  No big deal Mom, just riding a pony.  Audrey gets very excited when Bailey hits milestones and this one was no different.  I love indulging these girls and there's nothing like a Fall festival to excuse me from my normal Bad Cop duties.

On that note, John might have been a little thrown off when I suggested we let Audrey ride the carousel (which really was trucking and probably subsequently scarred her for life). He started looking at me funny when I handed Audrey a coke and let her go to town, guzzling it down. And his eyes just about bugged out of his head when I came back to the table with cotton candy and let Audrey feed it to her sister.

My excuse was that I was supplying them with a sugar rush since we had skipped nap time, but who was I kidding?  I was Good Cop!  Drunk on Fall!  But seriously, until Eggnog Day this is all I get, folks.  It's going to be a long, bleak month and a half. 

Calvin, I told you we should stop for directions!

Back to festivities: we spent an inordinate amount of time in the petting zoo where Bailey yelled at all the animals and ran away squealing any time one came close to her.  The girls and Calvin all love animals and I love seeing how excited kids can get about llamas or piglets.  It's great stuff. 

After communing with the animals, we hit up the hay bale maze (no corn mazes for these folks!) and it was so sweet to watch the three kiddos try to traverse their way around.  Calvin is big into hand holding, although most of the time it was hard to tell whether he or Bailey was leading or if it was more a case of the blind leading the blind.  Either way, all three kiddos made it out unscathed.

We eventually hopped on a hay ride to the pumpkin patch where Bailey quickly stopped looking around for the perfect pumpkin and started trying to see how many she could hold in her arms or stack in a tower.  Audrey animatedly tip-toed around the pumpkins before announcing she had to poop.

In the middle of a pumpkin patch.

That we had gotten to by hay ride.

Thank you for the curve ball, Dear.  I honestly never see them coming.

So, our trip to the actual pumpkin patch was cut short by me yelling at John to just pick out some pumpkins and we'd meet them back at the main store.  Audrey and I hauled it to the next trailer that came along and I spent a lovely half hour squatting on the floor of a public restroom trying to convince my three year old to poop...which she didn't do.

I didn't think Good Cops had to put up with that.  Maybe that's why I'm currently back to Bad Cop status, enforcing good meals and nap times.  The horror! 

Reaching Normal

Life has been an absolute whirl wind since I've come home. I mentioned in my last post that both of the girls have recently been sick, but what I didn't mention was what seemed a quick-passing stomach bug for them was absolute tormenting hell for the adults. And did I mention it's highly contagious? Best of both worlds! The entire...and I mean ENTIRE adult portion of the household was violently, pathetically out of commission for several days. Meanwhile, my two hooligans continued to scamper about the house, wondering why everyone else was so boring. As I was taking Bailey to the potty in the midst of all this, Audrey asked me: "Mama, why's everybody not feeling good?" Pretty much all I could do was laugh.

That's really been my mentality since leaving for Scotland. The amount of stress this household has been under can only be categorized as laughable...because the alternative would've been to bury our heads in the sand and pretend we don't exist.

I know what you're thinking: what the heck could I possibly have to complain about? Well, the answer is: nothing. But I'll tell you what everyone else has to complain about!

Let's start with the fact that I abandoned my children and my home for a week, shall we? The repercussions are limitless. Someone had to fill my shoes while I was gone and in this case, it translated to a whole bunch of someones. (God bless them!) I had family members and friends helping take care of the girls, meanwhile, John was having one of the longest/most stressful work weeks of the year; the fiscal year at his job ended the day I got home. Yippee!

Also, in the week I was gone, Elizabeth traveled to Seattle to have surgery on her back, came home and has been enduring the pain of healing from her surgery and relying on others for help as she recovers. This means there were two unruly toddlers, a post-op patient in the house and no Mama. When I came home, there were still two unruly toddlers and a post-op patient in the house, just everyone started puking and moaning and taking to their beds.

You can understand why the need to laugh at this point is paramount. If nothing else, it has been a bonding experience. Everyone has been able to compare notes and decide who was the most violently ill (John) and who got off the hook easy (Me!). There's been a lack of dishes to do since most people have only very recently recovered their appetites. The girls are actually starting to come back to a place I would call 'normal' since we've recently been able to leave the house without fear of contaminating others. And I can make it through the day without having flashbacks to the morning sickness I endured while pregnant with Audrey.

There's your silver lining!

All in all, I think this sickness has made the feeling of reaching 'normal' even more glorious. Since we got out of the house Friday, I've just been reveling in this season; Fall is my favorite time of year in the Tri-Cities and it is starting to show itself in rioting beauty. The farmer's market is full of red peppers, pumpkins and apples. The mums in our back yard are going absolutely crazy. We started a fire in the pellet stove for the first time Friday morning and I've been feeling the urge to make stew and roasts (now that people in the house are actually starting to eat again)

Through all this craziness, the girls have been amazing. And I mean that; just absolutely incredible. They struggled with the transitions of my departure and arrival back home, but through all this sicky stuff, they've just been so upbeat, helpful and silly which is really what we all needed. If it weren't for their bright voices, this place would've turned into an absolute mausoleum.

I am so grateful for their joyful and vivacious spirits; they bring me so much happiness and it makes my heart burst to see them bringing light into the world.

Homecoming

My return trip from Scotland didn't go as smoothly as my flights out of the US. Understandably, there seem to be many more safeguards in place for people coming into the United States. I got to experience my first interrogation and full body scan at the airport in Amsterdam and, honestly, I don't see what the big deal is. Maybe it's because I've been through the miracle of childbirth twice and really don't care what strangers see which parts of my body, but it took about 5 seconds and I saw no one ogling the images coming through. To be honest, I was much more irritated that there were no water fountains once I got through security and had to wait in a holding cell...er...room for forty five minutes before my international flight. Dehydration is your wost enemy, folks...not millimeter wave technology.

Moving on!

I really clung to the time I had during my ten hour flight back to the states. Most people wouldn't revel in that much air travel, but I know the next time I'll be forced to sit in one place for that long while people bring me food and drinks will probably involve senility and/or hospitalization.

A zombie-like state is pretty much unavoidable after being immobile for that long, so making my way through customs and back through security in the US to catch my connecting flight was kind of a hassle. I did get kudos from someone behind me for being able to pass the 'sobriety test' by taking off my boots while standing up, waiting to go through security. Considering my level of sleep deprivation, it was well deserved praise.

By the time my flight to Pasco was near boarding, I was ready to fall asleep on the floor and tell someone to just come pick me up. Somehow, I miraculously made my way onto the plane and to my seat and found I had a very pleasant seat partner, who kept me entertained for the entirety of the flight.

Our flight crew was fantastic and the pilot got us home almost forty five minutes early, which means, I got to baggage claim before John got to the airport. It was a sweet, sleep deprived reunion. After getting home and showing off the souvenirs I had brought all the way across the ocean (hey, it's an accomplishment to get shortbread that far without crumbling.) I promptly fell into bed and was out cold until I heard my girls grumbling in the morning.

This was the moment I had been waiting for since kissing their sweet heads good night a week ago. I leaped out of bed with as much enthusiasm as any jet lagged individual could muster and rushed to greet those sweet girls. Audrey had woken up, yelling for her Mama and Bailey was sleepily sitting up in bed muttering "Papa?...Papa?" We all came back to bed and snuggled...or in Bailey's case, randomly head-butted individuals within a three-foot radius. What a sweet, sweet reunion.

Since then, we've been slowly working on getting back to whatever normal is. While I was gone, Audrey had been sick and Bailey pretty much just didn't know why her normal schedule had gone so topsy turvy. It didn't help that shortly after I got home, Bailey came down with a stomach bug. But, honestly, I'd rather be puked on by my girls than not have them around. We've been spending a lot of time together-just the four of us-and Audrey and Bailey seem to be returning to their old chipper selves.

All in all, I think the time I was given to relax, explore new places and reconnect with who I am as a person, outside of my title as mother, was priceless. When it comes down to it, I am an independent, laid-back, loner type and being a Mama 24 hours a day can make me lose sight of that. I feel like I've naturally come back to the self I'm constantly trying to maintain as I wade through the frantic, stressful situations motherhood throws at me.

Namaste.