Chris Gaines and No Strings Attached

In the past month, 162 people have searched for Chris Gaines, and and viewed this previous post about him on my site. Question: Why are so many people searching out Chris Gaines this month? The post was from October, and literally zero people performed a search for Chris Gaines prior to this month. Does anybody know why this is?

About 80 people have also searched out another October post that they hadn't before, but I understand the reasoning behind that. It was the one where I reviewed No Strings Attached.

But what is all this Chris Gaines stuff about? I don't get it. Does anybody have any ideas? Please help clue me in.

Moving to Moorhead???

A couple of weeks ago, I had mentioned that there would be an announcement on where we were going to live (more on that later). And before that, the last I had mentioned it (in this blog) was on December 8, when I said that it was between White Bear Lake and St Louis Park.

Well, a lot has happened since December 8.

When we were in Moorhead over Christmas, Vernon checked out some office properties there. He found some that he liked, they sent him back proposals... there was one that looked like a really good opportunity (free rent for 6 months, they'd cover build-out costs, etc.).

Vernon and I decided that it might be really nice to move to Moorhead. My mom lives there, so we started imagining what it would be like to go out together, with each other, on a regular basis, having my mom babysit. It seemed like a lovely idea.

They drew up a lease.

Last Tuesday (January 25), we went to Moorhead to look at the space again, doing a walk-through and looking at the layout for the build-out that was about to occur.

But then Vernon and I got to talking, and something didn't feel right about the whole thing (the space, moving to Moorhead, etc.), so we called it off.

We were literally *THIS* close to signing the lease. Four days ago, we were looking at carpet samples, people. WE WERE LOOKING AT CARPET SAMPLES!

So, the announcement was going to be that we were moving to Moorhead. But now, we're not.

I'm actually glad we got so far in the process to realize what it is that we really want. We want to live in the Twin Cities. I guess it took thoroughly looking into Moorhead in order for us to come to that conclusion.

We're going to make our life somewhere in the Twin Cities. Still not (entirely) sure where yet, but it's not going to be St Louis Park or White Bear Lake either. It's kind of like we're back to square one, but we're not (even though we kind of are), because we have learned and grown so much in the process.

We're in a good place.

Boots Off

I was at the library today and Peace had her boots and socks off because she associates going inside with taking off her boots and socks. I let her do this because it is just easier this way. WAY easier. (She also does this in church, at playgroup, wherever.)

Anyway, so the library lady tells me that I need to have something on her feet. (We had done this several times before at this library and never got caught before.) I made an attempt at putting them on her, but it ended up as I knew it would... with Peace crying and screaming, flailing around and kicking her legs.

I didn't get the boots on.

So I told the kids, "Let's just get our books and get out of here." I scrambled to pick out an audio book for myself, the kids, and a chapter book. Meanwhile, Ocean keeps trying to get Peace to put on her boots, saying loudly, "You have to put on your boots, Peace," and Peace keeps wailing.

I check the books out, and then carry Peace with her boots, socks, and coat out of the library doors and into the library entryway. Peace is still crying while I put on her boots, but then I say something about getting a drink of water (because there is a drinking fountain there and she likes getting drinks out of them), and she stops crying and lets me put on her stuff.

But then Ocean and Ezra open the door to go outside, Peace follows them, and forgets all about getting a drink of water or that she was ever unhappy in the first place.

END STORY

Moorhead Community Education

We were in Moorhead yesterday taking care of some complicated business (I'm not going to talk about it yet. Later.) and stayed at my mother's. While there, I noticed she had a booklet for Moorhead Community Education where some pages were thumbmarked, and classes of interest were marked with an X.

Here is what she had:

• Walk It Off Wednesday
• Volkssport
• Decadent Desserts Made Simple

Sounds good, so far, right? I'm not really sure what Volkssport is, but it was under the Recreation and Fitness section, so it must be a good thing.

But then she had:

• Understanding Fibromyalgia: A Holistic Approach to Chronic Pain and Fatigue
• Thyroid Dysfunction
• Retirement Has Changed: What's Your Next Move?

And then, to top it all off, the last thing she had marked was:

• Preplanning Your Funeral

My mother leads an interesting life, doesn't she?

Choices (Sex, Drinking, Birth and Dora)

In my post about Dora the other day, my friend Kristin left this comment:

This is good practice for letting go in life - we cannot control what our kids love, and they will grow to resent us in trying. Just like I accept that Alma might grow up to be a fundy Christian or love Disney princesses, all I can do is love her and keep my end of the relationship open.

I tend to lose track of the bigger picture (like Kristin talks about) in times of stress (ahem), and I want to cling close to my ideals in an attempt to feel comfort from them.

I was talking with some friends the other week about what it might be like when our children get older, when they become teenagers. Somebody asked me how I would feel if my kids have sex and drink when they're teenagers (because those are things that I never engaged in as a teen... or now, really).

I don't know how I would feel.

I would like my kids to make good choices. And I guess I feel that the choices I made (not to drink or have sex as a teenager) were good ones, so I would want them to have the same.

Kind of like how they would give birth... Like, what if my daughters wanted to have elective cesareans? I wouldn't think that was the best choice either. But all that I can do (both now and later) is to educate them in making good decisions... about giving birth, drinking, sex, Dora... everything.

And what they do with that is up to them. After which, I'll have to step back, let go, and love them unconditionally no matter what they choose. Right, Kristin?

Dora, Dora, Dora

We went to the Mall of America's Nickelodeon Universe yesterday. (They had free rides from Noon to 4:00 pm because they were filming a commercial during that time and they wanted the rides to be full.)

Peace would notice Dora things everywhere and say, "Door. Door."

That's right. My 18-month-old knows who Dora is.

It happened because Ocean and Ezra have been bringing home those Dora easy reader books. And Vernon will sit with Peace, point to Dora, and say, "Who is that? It's Dora. Dora." And she will say, "Door. Door."

I swear, he's doing it just to make me mad because he knows I don't like Dora. (No offense to those of you who like Dora. Whatever floats your boat. I don't care. She just ain't my thing.)

There was a day, once upon a time, when Vernon was reading a Barney book (at the in-law's) to Ocean. And instead of calling him "Barney", Vernon would call him "The Big Purple Dinosaur". And he did this all of his accord (because, at that time, he didn't want our child to know who "Barney" was any more than I did).

Oh, how times have changed.

After Nickelodeon Universe yesterday, we went to the Barnes and Noble in the mall to read some books. Peace sees something on the shelf, gets all excited, and starts running toward it. A lady sees her and says, "I wonder what she sees? Is it that horse?" And I say, "No, it's that Dora book."

Because, yes, now I am THAT mother who has an 18-month-old who is a Dora fanatic.

The last thing in the world I wanted to be.

Blog = Life = Blog

Things I want to do with this blog:

• Post more recipes
• Add a Natural Health page
• Get rid of my movie page
• Finish answering the Ask Goofy Mama questions
• Do RRARF (I'll explain this more later) for 30 days and write about it here
• Update the "About Me" page

But first, I have to get my real life together (and not blog life).

Bridge to Terabithia

by Katherine Paterson
128 pages

First of all, my kids are probably too young for this book, but I read it to them anyway because IT IS AMAZING. Man, I forgot how good it was. One of the most well written children's books of all time.

It's about the forming (and then loss) of a friendship between 10-year-old Jesse and his new neighbor Leslie. If you don't know what happens in it, I'm not going to ruin it for you. But I kind of wish that I had waited longer for the kids to read it, for them to discover it on their own at an age when they were more ready for it. But they did like it and it did hold their interest throughout.

This really is such a great book.

Ocean, age 7 - "I don't know what to think of it. I liked it. I loved it."

(Note: Ocean was in a weird mood when I asked her to comment on this.)

Ezra, age 5 - "I was kind of scared when Leslie died, but the rest of it was okay. I really enjoyed it. And I hope you read it."

(Note: There goes Ezra again, spilling the secrets.)

Posting

I guess I'd better post something here so you will all keep reading this thing... this little saga that I like to call my life.

Peace doesn't wet her diapers at night anymore either. It has been over a month. I know this because when I had my period this month, I had to start a separate bag for my Mama Pads because there weren't any dirty diapers for me to throw them in with.

Ocean was over 5 years old before she stayed dry at night. Peace is not even 18 months.

Elimination communication, I'm telling you. Elimination communication.

I know, I know... I still need to get around to answering the rest of the questions that I requested you ask Goofy Mama. It just takes me awhile because you all really make me think about things. Thanks a lot for challenging me... Sheesh.

P.S. There will probably be an announcement coming sometime soon about where we're going to live. I think we've got it almost figured out. I think.

The Passage of Time

I've become fascinated with the passage of time lately ("the secret to life is enjoying the passage of time"). I think that in my thirties, and with having three kids, I have gained some wisdom in this matter. I am no longer in a rush to do things. I am no longer chomping at the bit to achieve something or do something with my life, or feeling like I'm not doing enough.

(Actually, I guess I have gained this wisdom relatively recently seeing that I had written this post not even 11 months ago.)

But with this newfound wisdom is the knowledge that I do not have to be in a hurry to do or be anything. There is no hurry. I can just BE.

I think about my kids getting older and how soon that is going to happen. I sit with my friends and we talk about how our girls are going to be getting their periods someday, and how quick that time seems to be approaching. What will we do when our kids learn how to drive? Start to date? How will we have sex when they are teenagers and they're awake during all the good sex-having times?

It just makes me want to relish it all and enjoy the days as they are happening.

I like to watch these Picture A Day videos (where someone takes a picture of themselves everyday for a span of 8 years or so) on YouTube. This one is my favorite:


I've watched it over and over and over again because it is so fascinating to me... how time passes. How we all grow older. How we all change.

I like that.

Goofy Mama Answers, Part 3

You talk about your family (mom, sister, brother-in-law) in some of your previous posts but you never mention your father. Why don't you ever talk about him? Is he involved in your life?

My father is dead. Thanks for bringing it up.

Nah, I'm just kidding. I have actually written about my father... once. (See this link here.)

(And I think he actually might read this blog now, I'm not sure.)

He is somewhat involved in my life... in that I see him once a year at Christmas and we e-mail each other on occasion. He doesn't really do anything noteworthy or funny, so I don't write about him. He is a quiet man... I think he has maybe spoken 10,000 words to me in the entire history of my life and I don't think that is an exaggeration.

My mom and dad got divorced when I was in my early 20's and he went on to remarry a lady named Joan. Around Christmas, when we get together at their house, Joan always cooks for us and serves us... but she never sits down and eats with us. It's very strange. We never see her eat.

While we were there this year, Ocean commented to me, "Grandma Bruce must like ladies who like Doughboys." Because, like my mother, Joan has a small Pillsbury Doughboy collection her kitchen. And I said, "Grandpa Bruce doesn't like Grandma 'Nita anymore. That's why they got a divorce."

Bah-ding-ding.

Transition

There was a gem of a comment left by my friend Sarah (check out her website here if you're looking for an amazing midwife in the Twin Cities area) on my Dealing With It post.

She wrote:

This is transition, Allison. The hardest part before you get to push out the baby.
But then you get to have the baby...and you realize that it was all worth it.

The Best Part About Christmas

My favorite memory from this Christmas season was a night a couple of days before Christmas where Vern suggested that we watch a cheesey Christmas movie called Chasing Christmas, starring Tom Arnold. See, this was magical because Vern and I used to watch a TON of cheesey Christmas movies back in the day. (It was kind of my thing... I really enjoy a good cheesey holiday movie.) So, when Vern suggested that we do that again this year, it was quite nice. We curled up on the bed with a Christmas-y snack and loaded the movie onto our computer screen.

That was my favorite part of this Christmas.

All the rest of it was too chaotic for me. It was nice, for what it was, it was just... too much.

Vern got these t-shirts from Ocean and Ezra:

I wasn't sure if my husband would be able to pull off these shirts, but apparently he can make anything look good.

On our way up to northern Minnesota, this is a place that we always pass on I-94:

Goofy Mama Answers, Part 2

When and how did Vern propose to you? How old were you when you got engaged? When you got married? 

This is kind of an embarrassing question (for Vernon), because the way he proposed to me kind of sucked donkeys. We can kind of laugh about it now, because we were virtual babies when it happened... and, quite frankly, Vernon just didn't quite know the ways of the world yet. I was almost 21 when we got engaged, 22 when married (Vern is one year younger).

Here's the story:

I saw some paperwork from a bank on a table at Vern's apartment, and I was wondering why he opened up a second savings account. I wouldn't drop it. He wouldn't tell me. We argued about it. (Turns out it was because he had put money into that savings account to buy an engagement ring for me the month before.)

So, because of that, he decided to propose to me that very night, and he told me that I would find out about the savings account at the end of the night.

A couple of side-notes on this night: 1) I had a terrible cold and was feeling like crap. 2) I had just found out that my parents were getting a divorce a couple of days before.

Anyway, so he takes me out to eat... at Perkins. I don't order anything because I'm not feeling well, but he orders a meal.

Then, we get back to his apartment, and he makes me wait out in the hallway while he sets up some sort of treasure hunt with notes for me to follow. He takes pictures of me while I am doing this, and I look horrible because I am sick and I am wearing this ugly black t-shirt and my typical nerdy jeans. (I would post the pictures here, but I don't have them scanned in yet and I'm not sure where they are located.)

The notes lead to his bedroom, where the hunt ends, and he gets down on one knee and pops the big question.

Romantic, huh?

(But Vernon has proven to be a perfectly lovely husband and father, so I really can't complain too much about the proposal.)