Category Archives: Grandparents Anderson

Maternal contribution to the showering of attention.

Every 100 Years a Post

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When the babes were tiny, I had a life that accommodated my ability to create limitless prose about the awesomeness (and sometimes not-so-awesomeness) of parenting. Within the pages of this blog I got to wax poetic about the crazy, the fun, the angry, the harrowing, the adorable, the hilarious. In looking for an old photo recently, I found myself falling down the rabbit hole of reading old posts that in some cases had me literally, laughing out loud, then almost crying. Picture Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation sitting in his attic watching 8mms – and yes I was wearing a turban.

I think the thing that hit me like a ton of bricks is how much time has slipped past since the kids were born. This year Stelly turned 10. P is almost 8. As I sit here writing, Stella is in the kitchen helping plan dinner and unloading the dishwasher. Porter is at a friend’s house for a sleepover. They are big kids now. Thoughtful, mature, fun, silly big kids. It makes me realize that time has disappeared in a blink. Take this post for example: Quality Family Time. Be sure to look at the photo set – it is the true heart of the story.

It makes me incredibly mournful to accept that my writing has been buttoned up for a period. I know it is not the end, but it is halted for this period of my life where parenting, and retailing and wife-ing and participating have become the larger priority. And I can dig that. I love to write. I love that I have written, and I know I will find my way back to it at some point.

But. I have done my best to evolve my documentarianism. Even though I can’t write every day, I have done my best to post as close to every day as I can manage. Anything. Something. So a picture makes its way along. Or even just a 140-ish character sentiment.

Last year became the evolution to a photo-a-day. I would give myself a C+ in my overall job in this task. But it’s a starting point.

And so, Happy New Year to all of you. I am so ridiculously lucky to have my endlessly supportive family and my loyal, fun, zany, smart, silly, witty, scandalous, friends who make me smile, and make me feel whole, real, grounded and loved. I hope with all my being that my children get to experience such greatness in their lives.

May 2014 be the beginning – or continuation – of the next something great for all of you.

Here’s the wrap-up for holiday season 2013. (And for those of you wondering, yes that is a Millenium Falcon birthday cake.)

Enjoy!

Holiday 2013 from natalie on Vimeo.

My Summer Vacation: 2009 Edition

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Okay, so we recently completed our annual pilgrimage to our homeland. I know you know this, and I know you have been waiting. But life returned from vacation, does not equate to life without interruption, and I have spent the better part of the week trying to exhale.

Basically, it was pretty much our typical summer outing. We briefly interrupted regular scheduling by immediately heading out East and leaving our precious cargo behind with the grandparents. Those kooky grandparents – they always insist they love it, but I know, deep down, that is the heat hallucinations talking.

We enjoyed our visit with Andrea and Brian – it was almost like we had never left. Except for the part where their house actually had furniture this time. I’m fairly certain that in the 7 days we were there we doubled our physical selves. I can’t even blame it on water weight because I was so busy experiencing the lovely, sweaty, goodness of the deep south in the summer. We ate infamous hot dogs of rural Hanover County, notable BBQ and sides (um, collards, oh yeah), elegant thai cuisine, greasy local faire and the piéce de resistance: the bar and grill that was prominently featured throughout every season of Dawson’s Creek. There is quite a story surrounding Brian and I’s relationship with Dawson’s Creek – his while he was recovering from cancer, mine while I was stuck on the couch breastfeeding without any cable. I don’t need to tell you how magical of a moment it was for us to each witness the life-sized autographed poster on the wall. It was almost like Pacey and Joey were right there. Sigh.

While gone in NC, the kids effortlessly transitioned between grandparents, living large with all the sights and experiences of summer. The Grandparents Walston kept them busy with swimming, science museum, library and art projects. The Grandparents Anderson kept them busy with rustic cabin living and blow-up backyard water features. There has also been this bizarre ongoing ritual that my kids have established with my mom called “Wedding”, which explains why Porter seems to always be dressed like a low-rent street-walker these days.

And speaking of Porter, this brings me to the part of the vacation that will, undoubtedly be the most triumphantly memorable. Don’t get me wrong – this was a wonderful, and memorable vacation full of friends and family and relaxation – however, when I remember this summer, it will be memorable for one gigantic reason: by the time we returned from North Carolina, Porter was 2/3 of the way potty trained. I KNOW! We were periodically updated on the progress via the various phone calls home, but it wasn’t until we returned that we stood witness to the beautiful glory of Porter running in announcing that he had to go pee, and shooting off to take care of business. Plus, yes there is a PLUS! HE GOES AT NIGHT TOO!!! Wakes up, announces his intentions and heads on in. It is like a Christmas miracle. Except that it is July. So, back to the 2/3rds part. He refuses to wear underwear (will only wear pull-ups) and he REFUSES to poop on the toilet. I have been trying to force the issue by stripping him naked from the waist down the moment we get home. Watcha gonna do now, son? Yeah, that’s what I thought – you’re gonna wait me out until I put you back in a pull-up so you can run into your bedroom and hide in the corner and poop -THAT’S WHAT! So close, yet so far away.

Riding on the high of 2/3rds of the way potty trained, we headed back to our freshly painted home. WOO HOO! No more fluffy bunny yellow and white. Now it is a more appropriate and earth-toned green and brown. Viva lá 1960s!

I gathered up photos from three different cameras and 3 different phones to compile this photo set -which explains the variations in quality and content. Unfortunately, I didn’t end up taking very many photos – except for the ones capturing the Arbogast tattoo outing, and the gist of the set is my mom’s camera. I’ll see what else I can round up and add them as I get them.

porter & stella
(click to see the entire set)

111 exterior paint job
(click here if you want to see 16 variations of angles of our newly painted exterior, otherwise, this one will probably do.)

Was there even life before technology?

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Most people? Yeah, when they decide to sell their current house and buy a new one, they might not choose to go on vacation the very next day. Apparently, we are not most people. Instead, the moment both of the counter-offers were accepted and signed – before the ink was even dry – we were headed south on 101. Not to return for another 11 days. That’s how we do it.

Thusly, we have not ever been too far from a computer, and I have actually managed to keep my cell phone not only charged, but within earshot. Thank the heavens for technology. And lots of it. At the rate we are going, we could feasibly close escrow on our new house before we even got home (even though we have chosen not to). Meanwhile, we have been droning on and on (and on) to anyone who will listen about remodeling and landscaping and miscellaneous repairs. Everyone has had to listen us endlessly discuss the finer details of flooring, windows and the differences between a cess pool and a septic system (we were originally told it was the first, but it turns out to actually be the latter). Yes, everyone, we are the kind of people that, if you see us coming, you should probably run. Run quickly.

Aside from the house ramblings, we are actually doing a bit of vacationing. And by vacationing, I mean leaving our children with whomever will take them so we can do luxurious things like shop, sleep in and ignore their whiny tantrums. Stella is wowing all of us with her aquatic skills (she is practically swimming!), and Porter is showing everyone how his adorable cuteness is only matched by his insanely short temper. And tenacity. And ability to bend metal objects with sheer will alone. But you know, all in a really cute way.

When he is not busy attending to whatever the heck he damn well pleases, he is dragging people around by their index finger. Get me this. Get me that. You can see the look of exasperation in his eyes when you just aren’t getting what Uhn, Ma Gaaaaaa! means. Come on people, get with the program, here!

You’ll notice I haven’t made even one whiny complaint about oppressive heat yet. Mostly, it is because there has been some crazy system following us at each stop that changes the aforementioned oppressive heat from hot to humid, which somehow makes it mildly more tolerable. Not to say we haven’t taken every available opportunity to float in the pool like hippos. Because we have. A lot.

Although we are rounding out our trip, and will be home in the next few days, we have continued to get inquisitive calls and emails in regards to our current housing situation. I thought I’d check in and let you all know how things were going. All inspections are completed (on both houses) and it is looking more and more like this is gonna happen. (Although, I still feel a little awkward saying as much.) If things continue on at their current pace it won’t be much longer until you’ll begin to see a lot of photos of a certain yellow house.

Sick and Tired of Sick and Tired

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Let’s recap, shall we?

My mother arrived a week ago, Thursday. By Sunday, Porter began throwing up more than usual. Monday, he threw up in the middle of the night. Although no other symptoms existed, we began to suspect the flu. Tuesday, we kept him out of daycare. Wednesday morning, Steve began asking me if I thought the house felt cold. Wednesday afternoon, Steve’s parents arrived, Steve puked, and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening under 600 blankets. Wednesday night, Stella slept at the trailer with her Grammy and Gramps, and threw up in the middle of the night. By Thursday, everyone seemed to be feeling a bit better. Porter was still throwing up with some regularity, and added diarrhea to his list of tricks. We all of a sudden realized that we needed to go to Costco to pick up more laundry detergent because we had been doing a minimum of 3 loads of laundry every day for 6 days. On Saturday, Steve’s dad spent the better part of the day holding court in the bathroom and on the couch. After being urgently booted from the bathroom by Stella – the girl with ZERO understanding that anyone else’s needs might outweigh her own- he opted to move himself to the trailer to convalesce. We were reminded, for the gazillionth time, that we need a second bathroom.

Although our house is wall-to-wall wood floors, Porter somehow managed to throw up three separate times on the thick shag area rug in the living room. The carpet cleaners come tomorrow at 1:00. After receiving yet another donation from Porter this morning, I attempted to wash our puke covered, king-size down comforter in the washing machine this afternoon. A tip for anyone who might try this in the future: when you have to brace yourself on the cabinets and use your foot to shove the entirety of the item into the machine, it is a good indicator that you may have exceeded capacity. It is currently sitting by the back door in an over-sized contractor bag along with about 10 gallons of water. Stella will be making her first official trip to a laundromat this evening.

Today, as I changed Porter’s outfit for the umpteenth time, and realized that although he has thrown up either in or on his shoes about 6 times, there is no point in buying him a new pair until I am relatively certain he won’t be filling the new ones with regurgitated bananas. And due to the mounting feeling that if I have to clean up puke one more time I am going to lose it, I made myself list the ways that it all could be worse. Remarkably, even with all that Porter has been going through over the last week, he has a.) not had a fever, b.) kept enough fluids in his system to not dehydrate, and c.) been in a remarkably good mood. Oh, and d.) I have set a new speed record in changing a crib sheet, in the dark, while not waking the sibling sleeping 5 feet away. Need I go on?

I guess that probably gets you up to speed on the gist of things, and also lends some explanation to my absence of late. More than anything, though, I’m just hoping that when the realtor comes over on Friday to help us set a list-price on our house, that the overwhelmingly foul smell of bodily fluids will have subsided.