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Whew! The weather firefox add-on at the bottom of my browser is reporting “Now: Sunny, 76 F”, but I just don’t believe it. When the back of your knees are sweating, you know its hotter than hades.
Lil’ E is at nanny Anna’s today, having a ball, no doubt! The chicks are the backyard about to pass out. I am safely tucked away in the house at the moment, where the cool night temps linger. It seems like just last week I was worried about freezing out my newly planted tomato starters- and now the record high temps threaten to burn them up! Tomorrow it is supposed to reach nearly 100 degrees!

All of this is so full-circle, it really is. This time last year, I was selling the last of my belongings that weren’t already packed up. I was preparing to send Hubby off with our car on a 3,000 mile road trip while I finished up the house cleaning before Lil’ E and I flew not far behind him to our new home, Portland, on May 21st. Everything about Portland this time of year was captured by my senses because it was so new and exciting. I familiarized myself with all of the smells, like the lavender, rosemary and sage growing along the sidewalks, as if they were the encapsulated in and only in Portland. The summer heat was familiar, since in many ways the last 23 years of my life was one big summer in Florida. And the evenings were pure bliss, when the skin on my shoulders would tingle as the temperatures dropped off, giving me an excuse to grab a cute shaw and relishing the strange feeling of having stolen extra time by enjoying sunlight until at least 9 pm.

Then I made it through Portland’s grey, drizzly winter. I even made it through the up and down days of early Spring that can play mean tricks on you. I thought that the shift towards Summer would be mighty welcoming, but instead — I must admit — it is bittersweet. This time last year I was saying goodbye and hello so much that my soul was just buzzing from it all. Now the cycle of one year brings all the sights and smells and sounds back again, and all I can think about is that its been 12 months since I have been able to hug my dad, to share a good cry with Steph, or laugh a loud, tipsy laugh with my sister Rachel. And perhaps more depressing- I have no idea if it will be another year, or two, or five, before I will be able to do those things again. This economy and life have left us all pretty darn broke and busy, making the seven hour plane ride seem more like a trek on the “Oregon Trail”, where one will inevitably die of dysentery, or in the very least, lose twelve oxen along the way.

There is nothing to look forward to this time around. While I’ll enjoy the different aspects of Fall, Winter and Spring again, it just won’t be the first time. It won’t be the honeymoon- it will be the marriage. And we all know what marriage is like

Of course, there’s more to it than all of this. There’s a new presidency, (maybe a boost to the economy will create a new job for Hubby), or perhaps we will decide to do something wild and crazy together, (like have another human being with our DNA combination enter the world). Even the low-key, hum drum days of life will no doubt gift me with a nugget of satisfaction or drama, if I keep my eyes open.

Anyway, I’m waiting for June to settle in. Something tells me the grass will look greener in June.

Today is Mother’s Day- woot!
I still can’t believe sometimes that I am a mom. I was putting Lil’ E’s sneakers by the door the other day while he was at the nanny’s so I could get some work in, and I had to do a double-take. Little miniature sneakers? Which belong to my son? Weird…

Yesterday I got to rent a Zipcar and bop around for some errands, which was really nice. It’s great to know the work of hauling bags of groceries on your sore shoulders, but sometimes the luxury of a vehicle is like getting a facial or something. Which I really wouldn’t know because I have never had a facial. I’ve never even had my eyebrows waxed. Amazing, I know. Just can’t justify the cost of stuff like that.

Ironically, what I CAN justify the cost of is truffles. Glorious little black mushrooms that rock my world. I finally got a 1/10th of an ounce sized truffle for $3 at the Farmer’s Market yesterday. Truffled sea salt on your popcorn- better than sex. (Okay, slight - only SLIGHT- exaggeration there.)

So what are my grand Mother’s Day plans? Well, you guessed it! Work! But first, I will point out that Hubby got up with the kiddo today, made me coffee and eggs with tandori naan (delicious bread!). He’s taking him out to the toy store today so I can work (so I might garden a little first, it is Mother’s Day after all!). Later tonight, Misty and I plan to have a light salad dinner with a bottle of Trout Trilogy 2004 Cab, a “splurge” on a $10 wine for Mother’s Day!

Hope all you other hard workin’ mamas (so if you are a female and have kids, that’s you) have a superb day!

Many of you know, (and you can just check out my postmodernity blogroll category for further proof), that I kinda have some interest in the “emergent” conversations (I use the word “conversations” because it seems that most emergent leaders/writers would rather this term… using the word “movement” or something similar strikes up the typical “you’re either on the boat or off the boat”, us v. them, bla bla bla that we just can’t seem to help doing as humans, heh?)

I use the word “kinda” because I was introduced to it while pregnant several years ago and having a kiddo to run after and a bazillion odd jobs seems to limit my time to devote to my thirst for spiritual knowledge. I now say my daily service to my family is my theology, which is either true or a cop-out. I guess you’ll never really know, will ya?

So I finally woke up in time to make it to church (late) this week, but not too late to hear the announcement that Doug Pagitt is in town this week. I haven’t actually read any of his books, mind you, (need I refer to the second paragraph’s excuse again?!), but I recognize the name from… again… “emergent conversations”.

The scoop is here. I have emailed Bob (you know- Bob. Everybody knows who Bob is.) to see if there was still a spot open for little ol’ me.

I would like to point out for all obvious reasons that I should get to come to this shindig for free. Doug and I go way back, we have a connection. I work for John Wiley & Sons, who owns Jossey-Bass, who published A Christianity Worth Believing.

Like I said, we’re practically siblings.

Ahh, but that’s okay. This sounds like it’s well worth my ten measley dollars. I’ll just deduct it as a charitable tax right off. (SO joking, sheesh!)

For a chuckle, here’s my parting gift.

UPDATE: So I went downtown to switch Lil’ E with Hubby, grabbed an overpriced Nathan’s hot dog for a super nutritious dinner, and then waited at the bus stop far too long before calling the Trimet number and tracking the schedule. The darn thing must have come early because the next bus out there was 45 minutes away! WHHAATTT? (I felt like I was in Lakeland again. ) So I gave up and headed home, figuring I would have missed half the darn thing by then. Well, shoot, ya win some ya lose some.

Okay, I debated a little about sharing the following story with you all, I really did. In the end, I have to just get it off my chest.

So after leaving my purse on the Trimet bus last Friday, I found myself goofing up again not two days later on the MAX light rail. Hubby, Lil’ E and I were on our way home from William’s birthday party on Sunday when it happened.

Lil’ E had begun to snooze on my lap, and I wasn’t far behind. Sure enough, another passenger thinks I look like the ideal Chatty Cathy to strike up a conversation with. With all the politeness I could muster, I responded to the man’s questions.

“Oh, he is two and a half”, I replied with a weary smile.

“Oh, that’s a lovely picture of your daughter,” I went on.

The passenger had a heavy set build, a business casual outfit and a OHSU badge (Oregon hospital), along with a bike helmet. That’s about as much as I can remember. He went on to tell me the heights of EVERY MAN in his daughter’s family tree because I was dumb enough to comment that she looks older than 8 in her school photo. Enough, I was thinking, how can I back out of this conversation. Why can’t I be like Hubby and be fine with just completely ignoring people!?

“Wow”, I continued to remark, gradually getting more and more obvious (I THOUGHT!) that I wanted to do just about anything but talk at the moment.

And then it happened.

“That’s crazy”, I said, with a complete lack of enthusiasm. Then I heard myself say, “And how tall is her mother?”

…

First, Hubby jerks his head sideways at me in horror.

Second, the marathon conversationalist takes on a whole new tone.

“Excuse me?!

-I’m a girl!”

…

OHMYGOD. Oh.my.gggaaaaawwwddddd.

It doesn’t even stop there. Had I retained any brain cells, I might have covered up my faux paux with something like, “Oh, sorry, I meant to say her father… heh heh… whew, it’s been a long day!”

But no. No, that’s not what I said.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I — I couldn’t tell…. your…er… hat…er”

(I still contest that there was not one defining feminine trait to this character. NOT ONE!)

I felt like I was melting. I wanted to get off at the next stop and wait for the next train, but I was frozen in my seat.

The man woman ended up shrugging it off and continued to go on and on about his her tall daughter, which only made the whole thing more awkward. I was like three feet off the bus already when he she was still calling out to me the name of the preschool his her daughter attended. I MEAN - HOLY CRAP!

I have no idea how I could have avoided this run in with the anonymously gendered passenger, but sometimes I need to keep MY BIG FAT MOUTH SHUT and let the weirdos talk to themselves.

EDIT: Thanks to the folks at www.trimetiquette.com for agreeing on just how embarrassing that was.

Even if the closest you have ever been to human tragedy was when you watched Darfur Now, you probably perceive that the world is jacked into a major mess… in Africa, in the Middle East, in America, in our neighborhoods and homes. There is an ugly crack in the wall of our utopia, that much must be pretty clear to most of us.

But it might lift your burden, replenish your hope, to know that a purse left on an American city’s mass transportation system was turned into lost and found, intact.

Keep spreadin’ the love, people!

Today started out as a pretty great day:

After pulling a late night of work, I slept in a bit on the couch while Lil’ E ate breakfast and watched Sesame Street. I got moving, did some chores and so on. I had a call with a prospective new client and it went fantastically (SO crazy how it came right in as I reduce my involvement at another). It was a beautiful day, low 70’s, sunshine and breeze, so Lil’ E and I headed out to the supermarket for rabbit bedding and a birthday gift, with a quick stop at the park.

On the way home, late afternoon, Lil’ E was passin out on the bus and I have a metal basket on wheels to drag/push around, (as well as two sweaters we stripped off in the heat and a plastic bag of left over burritos from the lunch we half ate). We were on one of the old buses (you know, with steps up instead of a curb level floor), and I pulled the chord, beckon E to rouse himself, “LET’S GO, BUDDY, THIS IS OUR STOP!” We tumbled off (quite literally) and made our way to the next stop for the bus home.
No sooner did we sit down when I went to grab my cell phone for the time. Cell phone, I think, … Huh, I feel like I am missing something.

Ya’ll: I did. I really did just leave my purse on the public transportation system. Complete with the following items:

• keys
• cell phone
• check book
• id
• 2 debit cards

What does this mean? We spent the early evening running to get cash out at the bank before closing the account, canceling our other banks debit card, canceling our cell phone and HAVING A FLIPPING BABY COW.

At this point I am also concerned with the fact that my address is on the checks and they have my house keys. FANFLIPPINTASTIC!

But, hey, its cool. It’s cool. Everything always turns out a-okay in the end, right? This week was so great, it was farting happiness. So the cosmos were bound to send me a little -okay, maybe big- hiccup. I’m still staying positive, so TAKE THAT, COSMOS! Whose cryin’ nooooooww?

I’ve shared here and there about my decisions surrounding childcare and work. I know so many moms struggle with it, and others maybe don’t, either because they are able and want to stay home with their kids or because they can afford childcare and want to work. There’s usually a lot more gray than that though. There are stay-at-home-moms that sometimes feel a twinge of embarrassment when some one asks, “And what do you do?” There are moms who work outside of the home and love it, but feel a sad or guilty whenever their SAHM friends recount the day they spent with their child at the zoo. There are WAHMs, of which I am one, who work from home, the “best of both worlds” as they say, struggling daily to get work done, retain sanity, and raise a child without Dora the Babysitter Explorer.

The topic itself has probably been exhausted beyond all reasonable desire to discuss it further- on television, in magazines, in playgroup, just about EVERYWHERE a mom goes. We all take some chunks and then go about life, trying to “do what’s best” for our unique families. No one quite knowing if they’ve got it right either way.  All of us loving our children so much.

My one and only, Lil’ E, will be turning THREE years old this summer. Simultaneously, a job I’ve been working for a looong time as a “temp” had an open full-time position, more or less created in hopes that I could move into it. The position sparkled with “best big companies to work for” kind of perks. It was so exciting to think about having a full-time permanent, salaried job with benefits and bonus’, a little travel, some routine and consistency. My initial thoughts? SURE, I can put Lil’ E in preschool every day, NO PROB!

Then I did the math.  Preschool, no matter how low I assumed the figured could go, would take a very large chunk of my income, nearly half of it. Taking Lil’ E to and from childcare would take 1.5 hours minimum out of my day, (and a perk of working from home is staying in pj’s and no commute!)

Even knowing that by taking the job and putting E in preschool would be an enormous financial strain, I was still ready to try making it work. Hubby and I would both keep part-time jobs to pay for childcare, we would do whatever it would take.

But in the end, as many of you know, it just wasn’t feeling “right”. I struggled with it every day and every night for a couple of weeks, and finally admitted to myself that there must be another plan for me. I did the opposite of the “planner” side in me and just decided late last week and over the weekend that I would not be applying for this job. I talked to my boss about it yesterday, so it is official.

And you know what? My decision has since been continually reaffirmed by little things and big things every where I go. I feel lighter and healthier than I have in like a year (even though I am also more broke than I have been in like a year!). Most interestingly, some one from a magazine found me over at VivianWrites and might have a consistent, flexible part-time use for me within the mag that would pay very close to what I am currently making at my “main” job, which is essentially going to be filled by a permanent employee while I lower my involvement to a very “as needed” basis.

I have also begun formulating the homeschool preschool “curriculum” (if you can call it that) that I will be using with Lil’ E for at least half of every day. I will have more flexible work, less conference calls and meetings, and be working slightly less than I have been over the passed year. I don’t have details planned out, which is a little weird for me, but since going with my gut, or maybe my heart, has been so far so good, I think I’ll ride this Surrender Train a little bit longer and see what sights I can view along the way.

“In its most profound sense, beauty may engender a salient experience of positive reflection about the meaning of one’s own existence.” -Wikipedia

“Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it” -Confucius

“Beauty is not caused. It is.” -Emily Dickinson

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” - Used by Nelson Mandela in his 1994 inaugural speech

What a strange passed few weeks I have had. I’m not sure where to begin and how much I am at liberty to share, but suffice to say that my employment situation (like the rest of the nations?!) has been in limbo (sort of?) and out playing golf and just plain driving the “planner” in me bonkers.

I love working, I really do, and I tell myself that I am darn lucky to do what I do, from home, even if I barely pay the bills, even if I feel Lil’ E is being neglected, even if I do not have the job security of permanent employment nor the perks of benefits or paid sick days. The long and short of it is part survival, part pleasure.

My (main) job has been more or less back and forth, one month I am planning for the inevitable discontinuation of my current role by brainstorming possible new careers (web design? in-home childcare again?) and the next month I am toying with the real possibility that I will be hired on permanently, which will be both a financial strain in some ways and simultaneously a great peace of mind. I struggle with seeing how things “work” out there in the great big world, where a job I already work can’t just be, well, my JOB. But I know life and corporations are more complicated than that and I try daily to leave things in God’s hands - while my captain insano “be prepared” speech turns on and I start worrying all night long about June 1st’s rent!

It’s fairly exausting to worry, as I am sure you all know. It’s not a positive energy and rarely leads to positive actions aside from getting you moving, which may or may not be what you actually need to be doing. Freud might say that being a “doer” is overcompensating for “dreamer” parents, who knows. Several people, some of whom know nothing about this situation in my life, have mentioned something along the lines of the following advice: Get to that quiet place where you can hear, and go from there.

In the meantime, let me tell you - this brain is so not quiet, and my body feels at times like its under panic attack for real! I know that the God I have relationship with is so so so darn good and true and faithful, and never once have I been regretful for surrendering my plans and worries over to him. At the same time, I am habitual in my efforts to take over and PLAN for Him, and not doing so takes concentrated effort just about every milli-second of the day.

That and two facts you will find rather TMI (”too much information”, for the grandparents): I have the first of these in like a decade and they are driving me crazy with preoccupation and additional worry AND I am SO this.

[/rant].

I plan to enjoy our last day with Ethan’s bud, Finn, on Friday, as the family we child-swap with will be moving to the east coast this weekend. We might meet a new childcare possibility the same day, more of a “nanny-share” (God, You’ve got a sense of irony about these things, don’t you?) This weekend expects to be a sunnier one than we’ve had as of late, and I plan to soak it up as much as realistically possible (Farmer’s Market on Saturday, some Coop building in the backyard, so on.) The fresh air always does me good, (one reason the carless thing is likely less of a big deal to me than it might otherwise be), so perhaps by early next week I will have some post’s for you of great fun and jubilation

Hope every one is having better luck in the future plans/economy/emotional health department - as my brother ALWAYS SAYS:

Can’t complain- Things could be a lot worse!

A few hours later, the snow had piled up quite a bit - this is the most snow I’ve seen in my entire life! Watch the slideshow for some random recent pics. Oh, you’ll see my chicks are growing up! Their names are Cocoa (the maran), Ginger (the Gold Sex-link), and Paprika (the Rhode Island red). Cocoa has turned out to be the “sweet” one- she enjoys being handled. Paprika is curious and the leader of the bunch, also doesn’t mind being handled. Ginger, bless her heart, is a big baby and we joke about putting her outside when she won’t shut up.