and the beat goes on.

Things have been resolved from yesterday's kerfuffle. I'd like to thank everyone who shared the link through facebook and twitter, and also those who wrote emails to influential locals. The views on this site more than tripled the usual amount yesterday, so I definitely think that it helped move the situation along. If it didn't... well, atleast it gave us something to focus on and channel our energy into, which is good when you're at your wits end!

So here's what's happening:

That two week process of getting the warranty to the proper people was expedited and they managed to get it to them yesterday. Was that so hard, Reality Homes? Seriously? Because you guys certainly seemed firm on this whole "two weeks" business, but when push came to shove, you could supply the paperwork THE SAME DAY. So yah... figure that out. Thankfully, because the paperwork got here so quickly, we will now be getting our keys this coming Wednesday. It's not ideal, as it's the 2nd of June and we're supposed to already be out of our apartment by then, but it's better than that whole "two weeks" bull honky.

We were all set to do the actual moving this weekend with a good friend who has a truck. We had arranged for Silas to be with his dad for the long weekend, so that he wouldn't be underfoot while we were doing all the back and forth and heavy lifting. Now that we'll be moving on a Wednesday night after work, Silas will have to be around and we aren't sure if our friend with the proper vehicle will be available. We also haven't heard back yet from our landlord, whether or not those 2 or 3 extra days in the apartment are alright. We're hoping so, as she is a realtor by profession, and knows how these things go. She's been a fantastic landlord in the 2+ years we've lived here, so we're hoping... atleast we're not having to ask her if we can stay almost half of June, which was where we were at the beginning of yesterday.

All in all, it's alright. It's better than it was. We still had to extend our loan, which cost us money, but that's life. There was pretty much no way we could have gotten in under the wire with that specific thing, excepting time travel situations and wormholes and such things. Or hey! Here's an idea! Maybe Reality Homes could have provided that warranty same-day back when it was FIRST REQUESTED? Yah... once again... figure that out. Like I said, though, it's not like we have a flying DeLorean. Life goes on. In a year - scratch that - in a MONTH, this will all be a distant memory and we'll be IN our house.

Providing that Wednesday actually works for using the truck, we're planning to spend the next few days moving the last of our things, so that come Wednesday, all that's left is the big furniture and the stuff in the refrigerator. That way we will only have to make a couple of trips that night and won't be up all hours, going back and forth. It's times like these that I'm very glad that the new residence is only a mile and a half up the hill from our current one. Here's to hoping that it's all smooth sailing from here on out.

And again, thanks so much to everyone for their support in this.

Reality Homes, I'm not exactly thrilled.

I'm a bit... oh, I dunno... LIVID. Things with the house have been going smoothly. The building has come along right on schedule, the bank has been really helpful, our real estate agent has been awesome and is always available to answer any questions we have. All in all, having this house built has been a fantastic experience. But this is where I have to wholeheartedly NOT recommend Reality Homes to other people interested in building a home through the USDA loan program.

Our loan officer has spent the last five weeks trying to contact Reality Homes for one piece of paperwork. Their official warranty. It's required for the USDA loan. They've known our projected closing date since we first started dealing with them. They've known that the house would be done in four months and that we'd need to vacate our current apartment by June 1st. They knew we were trying to get in under the deadline to qualify for the $8k tax credit next year (which, per our understanding, means we absolutely have to be living in the house by June 15th). They just now got back to him and told him it would take TWO WEEKS for them to get it to him. The developer who built our house is currently paying the water/power & hasn't even gotten paid himself because of this hang-up. Until our bank gets this paperwork from Reality Homes, our loan can't be finalized. This is unacceptable.

As you can see, our house is ready to move in NOW, but we can't until the loan has been finalized and every duck is in a row, or else it's a huge insurance liability for us to completely move in. They claim it'll take two weeks to get the single piece of paperwork to the bank. They've had five weeks and never responded to the multiple requests from our loan officer. They dropped the ball and it has already cost us additional funds (we had to pay a fee to extend our loan, are paying for the DSL that got hooked up earlier this week that we can't even use, if we have to stay in our apartment longer, we'll have to pay rent here, providing our landlord hasn't already found a new tenant, etc...) and now there is the threat of us not making it in time for the tax credit, one of the main reasons we decided now was the time to buy. It's their responsibility now to make this happen FAST. Overnight it, fax it, carrier pigeon... I don't care how they want to do it, they just need to get it done.

The worst part? They weren't up front about the snag with the warranty. On Tuesday morning Seth met with two representatives from Reality Homes, along with the developer and realtor, to do the final walk-through of the house and to sign the final papers with them. He asked the woman from Reality point-blank when we'd have the keys in our hand, since we'd been told by some of the people involved that it would be on Friday (tomorrow), but hadn't gotten the official word from them directly... she refused to give him a straight answer and was acting oddly chipper and dancing around any subjects that had to do with deadlines and when we'd actually be in. Our developer (who has been so wonderful this entire time) told Seth we could start moving in boxes before we had the keys and could just stick them in the garage until everything was copacetic. When Seth sent out a strongly worded and obviously angry email to Reality Homes, he CCed it to all of the realty, bank, and development people who have been involved in this process thus far. When our rad developer read the email, this is what he sent to Reality Homes:

"It is regrettable that the Warranty issue in the transaction of the financing of this home could not be expedited to meet the loan requirements for this home. This young family represents the ideal candidate for future home sales and as you can see they are not pleased with the dismissive attitude of Reality Homes when corresponding on the Warranty issue. These young people maintain amazing networks of communication with internet mechanisms like Facebook and other interactive internet tools. It does not bode well for your company that he is so justifiably disappointed ..."

You'd better count on it, REALITY HOMES.

So here is our garage after a few carloads of boxes were taken over. The water and power and dsl are all hooked up and currently running. The house itself is 100% finished. Everything is ready and our hands are tied. We're stuck in between an apartment we're supposed to vacate on Monday and a house we might not be able to move into until almost two weeks after that date. Our apartment has been advertised as available for rent on June 1st. Reality Homes dropped the ball and then didn't come out and tell anyone they had dropped the ball until the 11th hour. Those aren't exactly great business practices.

If anyone feels compelled to write or advocate on our behalf, any help would be much appreciated. The house in question is in the name of Seth Jochems of Port Townsend.

sometimes things get murky and not all that fun, but we survive.

Today has been a weird and tumultuous day fraught with misunderstandings, jerkiness, cursing, and a desperate need for a frothy chai latte and a cupcake. I got the chai, but the overpriced cupcake shop downtown was closed. A shortbread cookie from Sweet Laurette's did the trick, though. Also, watching this video helped. Jesse Tyler Ferguson is perfection. I'm always a sucker for the homosexual ginger guys.

I want to help, but I don't want to be a privileged ass.

I went out and about today to run some errands and there was a man standing on the corner of Discovery Road & highway 20, just outside of town. That isn't him in the above picture, but his sign was very similar. It simply said, "Help. Hungry." I avoided eye contact, pretending to look at the traffic, even though I was stopped at a red light. I felt like a grade-A jerk for not atleast looking over and smiling. Would smiling be rubbing it in? Would it be received as a gesture of goodwill? I hate this about life, but I have no control over how anything I do is perceived, no matter how hard I try to make my genuine intentions known in all of my daily interactions. I felt like dirt after the light turned green and I left... stinky horrible dirt. I didn't want to feel like dirt. I didn't want anyone else to feel like dirt. I wanted to specifically make someone NOT feel like dirt.

I got the idea in my head that I was going to make enough dinner to fix an extra plate and take it to him. I floated this idea through a Facebook status, wondering what feedback I'd get. Would people tell me not to do it, or to be careful, or to expect rejection? I got a little bit of all of the above, but most of all, encouragement that even if it didn't work out or he didn't want it, it was worth trying. I kneaded some dough for cheesy garlic biscuits, working it with my hands, turning it over, adding a little more cream... I rolled it out on the counter that I had sprinkled with flour and wondered if he'd like these biscuits or if they'd be too garlicky for him. Silas thinks they're garlicky. I peeled and cut some carrots and threw them in a pot of salted water, stirring and smelling and testing to see if they were soft yet. I mixed together salmon patties, making the batch with one more can of salmon, one more egg, and a little more olive oil that usual. I wanted to make sure I had enough to go around. Once everything was cooked and ready, I pulled one of those reusable plastic containers that I have way too many of and filled it with the dinner. I almost forgot to put a fork in with it, which wouldn't have done any good for anyone. The three of us ate our dinner and once the plates were clean, I set off, hoping he'd still be at the corner and hadn't moved on for the evening. It had been almost 3 hours since I'd seen him standing there, so I really had no idea.

I felt the adrenaline starting to build up in my back, the hard ball of tension that develops near my tailbone is undeniable. My head feels a little fuzzy when this happens. I don't know if it's channeling blood flow to my lower back or if it's something else entirely. I started sweating so much that the inner edge of my glasses started to fog up. And when I pulled up to the light... he wasn't there. I turned back up the hill, in the hopes that maybe he had decided to walk into town. There is a shelter downtown. It was worth a shot. I saw a man walking about a mile in from where I saw him earlier and had a hunch it was him, even though I'd been so busy avoiding eye contact before that I honestly had no clue what the man looked like. I decided to take a chance and pull into the parking lot about 1/2 a block up from where he was walking. It was him and when I asked him if he was interested in dinner he thanked me about 5 times.

I don't know why, but the moment after something like this happens, the adrenaline builds instead of subsiding. The ball of tension gets tighter and harder and makes my whole back feel like it's on fire. It's a wonder I didn't break down crying in the drivers seat.

Lost: you'd better not screw me over.

The final chapter of Lost is airing this Sunday and if I don't get some very specific answers, there's going to be hell to pay. They'd better explain...

• Where the numbers came from and why they're so important and seem to be connected to every single damn island-related occurrence.
• Where do the statue, the many appearances of the Ankh symbol and the Egyptian hieroglyphics in the temple and the tunnels and... everywhere else, come from? Why is Egyptian symbolism so important on the island?
• Seriously... what is up with the light and all the electromagnetism? Is it some mystical woo-woo thing or science or both?

I've watched the entire Series all the way through, as well as watching every episode from Season 4 and beyond atleast thrice, and have done insane amounts of additional Lost-related reading. I feel like I've got a pretty good grasp on all of the theories and twists and characters... I only ask that these few questions be answered before the series is over. And when the series is over... I'll be watching it from start to finish - again.

I never claimed to be anything other than a total and complete nerd.

And I can see why you'd want to live here.

The kids are alright.

I stumbled on a fantastic article yesterday, thanks to Heather, who posted it on Facebook. It's about a cooperative playground in Germany where kids between 6 and 16 get to actually BUILD the playground as they go. Amazing.

a weekend made of WIN

We decided early on that if I was going to make our curtains, that we were also going to make our curtain rods with our bare hands. A couple of weeks ago I drove out to the wood store (I love referring to the Lumber Yard as the "wood store", it sends Seth up the wall) and picked up some 1 5/16" thick dowel rod and a 2x4. The mission: Cut the dowel into the widths of the windows (plus an inch or so on each side), these will be our rods. Then Seth cut round wood blocks out of the 2x4 and added a hole on the side for the dowel to fit into, as well as a hole drilled through the center to screw it into the wall. He sanded them down smooth and then handed them over to me for the creative work. I gave them each a few coats of semi-gloss spray paint, the color depending on which room they'd go in, and then went to town with my black paint pens. Seth's parents did a project similar to this in their timber-frame house, though their rods are inside the window box. Ours could have been, but that would have required more precise measuring when making the curtains and our painted mounting blocks wouldn't have been very visible, which was a lot of the point of doing it this way, for us. For now, showing you a picture of the painted blocks doesn't help much in visualizing the finished product, but once it's done, it'll be one of the first things I share after the move-in!

Our bathroom has mirrors! We had no idea if they were going to be small mirrors with medicine cabinets or huge wall-covering mirrors. I'm quite happy with how large they are. The apartment we've lived in for the past two years has a large mirror and I've grown used to it and would hate to go back to a small one.

Our carpet has been installed. The only things we're waiting on before we can start moving in is for the appliances to be installed and for the city inspector to sign off on it. This is all that stands between us and our keys. I'm going insane with impatience. I just want to get in there and get things painted and move in boxes so that we can get this show on the road. Breathe, Jasie... breathe.

They've finished our front porch and are currently working on the back porch. We had assumed it would be wood, but now that it's done and we've seen the poured concrete in person, it's nice to know that it will be sturdy and durable and will pretty much never need to be repaired or replaced. It's nice to know that although this house was built on the cheap, there are things about it that have some definite longevity.

We originally thought that our driveway would be basic gravel and kind of a pain in the ass, but it ended up also being poured concrete. Seth is most excited about the fact that he'll be able to wash his car at home instead of at work.

We also did some thrifting and grocery shopping this weekend and avoided the hub-bub of Rhody Festival at all costs. There's 3 different parades, a marathon, a carnival... it basically turns town into one giant mess. I know a lot of people really love it, but I'm easily over-stimulated by stuff like that and end up stressed and exhausted. Avoiding it was the best course of action. Besides, none of us like carnival rides or things like that, so we'd spend a bunch of money to not really have any fun. The county fair is coming up in just a few months and it's cheaper and a hell of a lot more fun. It doesn't have rides or noisy things going on, just animals and booths and displays and fun stuff to look at. Nice and simple. Plus, Silas really digs elephant ears.

One of the things we found while out and about was this Mama Cass album in near-perfect condition! Seth was rummaging around in the records at the Habitat for Humanity store while I gawked at dishes and things and he saw it and instantly thought of me. When he brought it over I just about squealed! She's totally getting hung somewhere in the new house.

Last night we decided to teleport to the 1970's and I made a tater tot casserole. It was surprisingly WONDERFUL. I felt so kitschy.

The world through Silas' eyes...

... is apparently really wobbly and fast and might cause severe motion sickness. If you're epileptic or get car-sick easily, maybe you should skip this one. Yikes.

PT Life-Learners at Fort Worden from Jasie VanGesen on Vimeo.

The no-poo guide for dry, damaged, haystacky hair.

I finally decided that after making it over two years without any kind of dye job and over one year without shampoo, my locks had earned a good follicle frying, which equals BLONDE STREAKS! WOOO! I also had the stylist thin out all the spots on my head that grow in really thick and heavy (the back and sides, mostly. Hello cowlicks!). There were two drawbacks, though. Firstly, I now have chunks of my hair that are damaged, which means more dryness again. Secondly, after they lifted the color they had to WASH the bleach out with shampoo. I swear, I was more worried about that than about the damage of bleaching. I had worked myself up to believe that one shampooing would undo a year of abstaining. It didn't. I've been doing strictly conditioner at home for the past week since I had it done and my hair has not turned into a rats nest. But... you know... overreacting is kind of my thing. And worrying. It's a great combo.

So without further ado, I give you the details of how I went no-poo, stayed no-poo, and lived to tell the tale. If your hair is anything like mine, this routine will most likely work for you.

• Don't be afraid that you'll stink. You won't. I was so worried I'd stink, but the body's natural pheromones are nothing to be afraid of. Also, be patient. The first few days you go without shampoo, your hair may feel oily or strange. It can be tempting to abandon the experiment and go back to regular shampoo. If you don't make it over the hump, you won't get to reap the benefits of shampoo-free hair. For some, the transition period only lasts a few days (it was just shy of two weeks for me) and for some it can take several weeks. Be patient. Make that your mantra.

• If you have dry, thick hair like me, or color treat it heavily, you can probably skip the baking soda and vinegar rinse. It'll get you nowhere and just make your hair act confused and upset. I don't know if maybe it works perfectly fine on oily hair or on thinner hair, but with my thick haystack it did a whole lot of nothing except dry it out MORE.

• You can scrub away dirt and grime just fine with a bit of conditioner worked into your hair and massaged into your scalp. I've discovered that for my dry hair, if I scrub in the conditioner first thing in the shower, I can let it sit and soak in while I'm washing everything else. I put the conditioner in my palm and work it into my entire head of hair, then I go to town with the scalp scrubbing and massaging. I start at my temples and work my way up to the top of my head, then I do the bangs and the front half of my hair, then move on to the back, paying extra scrubby attention to the damaged/bleached bits... it works wonders on my particular head of hair. I feel clean and refreshed and moisturized with just basic conditioner.

• Switch conditioner types each bottle or two you buy. Your hair gets used to stuff and after awhile it doesn't work as well. I switch back and forth between Joico's K-PAK Intense Hydrator (I buy it from the salon where I get my hair cut, but it is available at most supermarket/drugstore chains), Pureology Hydrate Conditioner (also available pretty much anywhere these days), and Organix Conditioner in Coconut Milk, Teatree Mint, or Pomegranate Green Tea. I'll usually have more than one choice on hand in the shower (since I share conditioner with my dude) and whenever I empty a bottle, I make sure that the next one I buy is different than what I was just using. My scent has some variety and I save money by switching $5 bottles into the rotation with $20 bottles. I also make sure that each conditioner I buy describes itself as moisturizing and/or nourishing. These have proved the most effective at lessening my frizzy-ness from my hair being naturally dry.

Going no-poo not only helps your hair even itself out, it saves serious money. I think about how much I spend on conditioner a year and double it... that's how much I USED TO spend. It seems bizarre to me now and a like total waste of money. Seth still uses shampoo (his hair is NOTHING like mine. It's fine and oily and not particularly damaged), so we do still spend some money on it, but it's a lot less than it used to be. Half the time he uses Dr. Bronners instead of proper shampoo, anyway. He lets it air dry and brushes it once when it's still wet, to get it to go where he wants it. That's it. That's his entire routine. I dig his low-maintenance approach.

I still flat-iron mine sometimes - maybe once or twice a week. This does damage it a little, but I've found that by using leave-in conditioners/smoothers and letting it air dry, it counteracts things a bit. My leave-in routine goes a little something like this: 2 pumps of Organix Nourishing Coconut Milk Split Ends Mender, 2 pumps of Pantene Pro-V NatureFusion Smoothing Creme, 1 pump of Organix Nourishing Coconut Milk Anti-Breakage Serum, and 1 pump of Garnier Fructis Brilliantine Shine Glistening Drops. I know this may seem like a lot of random products to some people, but when I think about how much random stuff I used to put in my hair, just to keep it from turning into a giant poof-ball on my head, it feels like barely anything. Plus, none of them are over $5 and because I use a combo of many things instead of tons of just one thing, they all seem to last me quite awhile. If you find that your hair is manageable and cooperative without any leave-in products, by all means, leave them out of your routine. I'm not holding a gun to your head... or your head of hair. Um... I figured out a better alternative that doesn't involve a bunch of extra stuff being put in my hair.

The decision to cut out shampoo is a personal one, like deciding to stop shaving your legs or armpits, or to stop wearing deodorant, or to forgo makeup... to each their own. But if it's something you're interested in because your hair is thick and dry and frizzy and all over the place (like mine was), it's worth a try. You may just find out that you feel liberated and absolutely love it. The key, I've found, is getting over that hump, being patient, giving it time to work itself out. That is literally the hardest part of the whole thing. So good luck, potential fellow no-poo-ers!

You're living in BOX CITY!

I am a person whose mood is easily influenced and affected by my surroundings. If it's a sunny day and things are clean, there's about a 99% chance I'm chipper. If it's raining and the dishes have piled up and the recycling is full, there's about a 99% chance that I'm going to be irritable. I know it's entitled and uncouth of me to whinge about the state of my living quarters mere days before my NEW HOUSE I'M BUYING is finished. I know. I'm a big privileged wuss. I need to be whacked over the head with a reality check.

But I spend so much of my time cleaning and sewing and thrifting and decorating and organizing... all to create a relaxing and comfortable home environment for myself and the people I live with. I like order, I like pretty things, I like cleanliness. So do the boys. It's what we're all used to. And now - we're on the verge of killing eachother half the time. I even requested that my Dr. up my Lamictal dosage from 100mg to 150mg. She sympathetically obliged. I don't know if we'll bring it back down a notch after we're settled in the house or if I'll keep it at the higher dosage.

I'm so ready to get the hell out of Dodge.

playing hooky

Imagine if these two boys had been sitting at desks today instead of poking at a dead and mostly picked over fish carcass on the beach. They wouldn't have gotten to smell it, or see the bones, or try to cut open the liver. If they'd seen it in a book someone was forcing them to read or in a video some teacher was making them sit through, would they have walked away with much memory of the experience? Or much tactile knowledge of how the fish looked, felt, or smelled?

On the other hand... if they had been sitting at desks today and Deb and I hadn't been with them, hanging out and exploring... none of us would have ended up smelling like dead fish. So you can look at the situation from whichever angle you like.

Belly Work

I have one major fat acceptance/body positivity hurdle left that needs to be jumped: accepting and loving my tummy. I tend to gravitate towards clothes that conceal and camouflage my belly (not sure why I believe that at 230 lbs I'll fool anyone into thinking there isn't a tummy under that flowy top), when really, I'd like to develop the confidence to wear the clothes I like and cultivate a look I enjoy without feeling the need to hide any part of myself. I've seen many fatties rock their respective looks while paying homage to every little "flaw" (society's words, not mine) that the body in those clothes has.

One of my absolute faves is Cynara. She is vaguely apple-shaped like me, doesn't have a flat stomach, and is downright fearless in the way she expresses herself through clothes.

It doesn't matter if what she's wearing is billowy or fitted, belted or left open, "flattering" or in your face - she rocks it. She looks fantastic. Her confidence in her clothes, her style, and herself radiates from her outfit photos. This is what I want in my life.

I've been spending a little bit of time each day looking down at my belly, looking at it in the mirror, getting comfortable with it and trying not to get all hung up on the fact that it's there. Some days it's easy and I feel better about my body and myself, other days I go into a bit of a tailspin... I think back to the height of my screwed up attitudes towards food and my harmful disordered eating practices - calories were my enemy. I would count them obsessively and restrict them severely. At one point I even convinced myself that I could get the bulk of my body's required nutrients (to you know, survive) while consuming very little actual food. Needless to say, my tummy was not my friend at that time. I took a lot of weird supplements and drank emergen-c and green tea, I chugged water and chewed gum to keep my tummy feeling full and my mouth busy. I occasionally ate a piece of fruit or a string cheese when my blood sugar would dip so low that I was on the verge of fainting. I'd get to the point where I'd have literally NO energy and figured I should probably eat something.

Seriously - a calorie is simply a measurement that indicates the amount of energy required to raise the temperature of one kilogram of water by one degree Celsius, thus implying how much potential energy the food you eat can supply to your body. It's not something to make an enemy of, it's something to keep you ALIVE. My tummy is just some adipose tissue surrounding my internal organs with some cushioning; It is not something to make an enemy of. It's a part of me. The me that I love and accept. It's time to give my belly some much needed love and acceptance.

and in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make.

Mother's Day has been a holiday fraught with complications for me for as long as I've been a mother. I never felt particularly pampered or spoiled on this one day a year that was supposed to be about appreciating my efforts as a parent and giving me the space to relax and feel special. Our culture is a minefield for moms, as I've talked about before. It doesn't matter how you parent, how invested you are in your kids and your family, how you handle the ebb and flow of life as a mother, you're obviously doing something wrong or missing the mark or screwing up your kids for life. Everybody's got an opinion. This one day a year, it's nice to forget about the cold, hard world and feel good about the job you're doing, the emotional work of being a parent.

Silas and I made a card out of construction paper for my mom, his nana. I wrote Happy Mother's Day in fancy lettering and he drew a picture of a DNA strand with people falling out of it into a bowl of "life soup". I never said the kid was typical. We poured love and effort into it and sent it in the mail.

Things are complicated with my mom right now. I've decided that for my own sanity, I'm not on speaking terms with her right now and because I tend to avoid confrontation at all costs, I haven't let her in on this silent treatment I'm giving her. I'm not sure she'll notice on her own. Long gone are the days where I call her to gush about exciting things in my life. Gone are the days I stop in at the house when I'm nearby. Gone are the days I ask for advice. She calls me once every 6 weeks or so, usually to ask me a question about how websites work or tell me one more time about her OH SO AMAZING DIET AND WEIGHT LOSS SUCCESSES, never to just see how I'm doing. I've come to the conclusion that I am the daughter and she is the mother and I've already spent enough time being the one to take any initiative and make the effort to have a relationship. It's exhausting and hasn't paid off in any way shape or form... so I'm just not doing it anymore. I made my last move by sending that card and didn't get a card in return or even a quick phone-call from her. I'm a mother, too. But this day doesn't work that way... It's her move.

It's not all gray clouds and melancholia here, though. I've started to realize that family isn't what you're born into, but it's what you make. I've heard it a million times and always thought of it as the worst kind of cliche, but holy crap, it's correct. I may not have emotional support or even simple interest in my life from the family that raised me, but I've found it in the family of my partner. His parents invited us over for an outdoor barbecue to celebrate the holiday. They specifically asked that no gifts be exchanged and that we all spend quality time together instead... and it was amazing and everything I've ever wanted in a Mother's Day. Sometimes their openness throws me off and makes me nervous, because frankly, it's downright foreign to me. After knowing them for over 4 years, I'm finally starting to mellow out and get comfortable with the fact that they actually care about all of us and are interested in who we are as people. They're aren't gushy or mushy. I'm not sure I've ever heard anyone exclaim that they love anybody else in the family, but you know they do. You know they do ever so deeply that no one ever has to make a big show of it.

Seth's parents have never tried to get Silas to call them any grandparent-ish nickname, but they are more involved in his life and more supportive of who he is as a person than any of his biological grandparents. Chris took him out into the greenhouse to find toads and from a distance you could hear them talking and laughing and it was just so natural and unforced. What a comfort to have that. To know that he'll grow up with these wonderful memories of the family we've made.

We went for a hike in the woods that sit next to their property and Mark spent the entire time pointing out interesting trees and plants to Si. He led us to a fallen tree that Silas could bounce on and a bog where they could throw sticks in for the dogs to fetch. He acted, dare I say it, like a grandfather. To my own father's credit, he's also very good with Silas and genuinely seems to enjoy time with him, BUT... he only sees him a handful of times a year and they've never even gone somewhere special, just the two of them. They barely know eachother.

It's so comforting to see Silas hang out at their house. He runs around like a wild animal who's been set free. He explores in the woods, feeds the chickens, throws the tennis ball for the dog to fetch and the baseball for Chris to hit so that the metal bat makes that awesome CLINK sound, throws crumpled up newspaper into the fire-pit to watch the ashes fly around, has excellent conversations with Seth's grandma and waves his hands around excitedly while he talks... and he spends time with adults who aren't related to him biologically, who care about him a lot.

We're so lucky to have this. I feel like a complete dolt for all of the times I took this for granted. That's never going to happen again. I am incredibly lucky to have Seth and his family in my life and in Silas'.

The Fantasy of Being IN.

I feel like I've fallen into the rabbit hole and time has been simultaneously sped up and slowed down and I don't know which way is up and I'm anxious and excited. I'm anxited. It's a word. A made-up one, but a word, none the less.

The house is supposed to be done by the 15th, though we can't take possession of it until the city inspector signs off. That could happen on the 16th or as late as the 22nd, according to our realtor. I'm chomping at the bit, here. The only packing left to do is some drawers, non-perishables, our clothes, toiletries, dishes... the stuff that isn't in boxes yet because, you know, we kind of use it every day. We're ready. We're willing. We're able. And don't forget anxited, we're totally anxited. I'm ready to start fresh in this new space; this space I intend to call home for several years, this space that might see Silas leave home to enter the world of unbridled adulthood, this space where Seth and I will make our partnership legal and binding, this space where we may someday combine our DNA to make a brand new human... It's hard not to view the house as the cure to every woe in life. It's taken over my brain, much in the same way that The Fantasy of Being Thin dominated my thoughts in the height of my disordered eating days. I'm keeping myself in check, but it hasn't been easy. I have a lot of goals that will finally be possible in the new house (it's not that they weren't all possible here, but they were more difficult and I tend to be all-or-nothing with things and don't like embarking on new pursuits without all my ducks in a row).

I want to garden.

I want to bake bread from scratch.

I want to expand my business.

I want to have chickens.

I want to create a richer and more nurturing environment for our family.

I want to invite Silas' friends over for sleepovers.

I want to throw dinner parties.

I want to paint things. Lots of things.

I want to settle in and know that the walls around me are truly mine.

We're almost there and even though we've watched the progress of the house and spent the last few weeks surrounded by boxes full of our belongings - it still feels surreal. I'm not going to believe it until I have the keys in my hand and spend a night in our new bedroom. And then I might have a happiness meltdown just from all of the overwhelming FEELINGS.

shades of grey

I feel like I'm entering a bit of a dressing rut. Summer is fast approaching and my cooler weather clothes don't work all the time, yet it's not quite warm enough for bare legs and sandals. This time of year is always a bit awkward for me and my wardrobe... I tend to be a layered dresser, so coming into the warmer part of the year, I get a little flustered. Thankfully I integrated some vests into my closet last summer for this very reason, but giving up my sweaters for a few months is still hard.

I'm also in a little bit of a rut with growing out my hair. I won't be chopping it all off or anything (all I have to do is look at a picture of it short and any urges to do that again subside). I've been putting more and more time in between each trim to save money and time and I've been doing the bangs myself, but it's in desperate need of thinning out. My layers tend to grow in incredibly thick, especially in the back. Maybe I'll get that done in the next couple of weeks. I'm also itching to add in some blonde chunks (in the underlayers) so that I can do some funky colors. I'm pretty sure it's been about 3 years since I last dyed it, which is a record.

sweater & booties - Target
dress - Ross
necklace - Icing
tights - WeLoveColors

sweater & leggings - OldNavy
top - Torrid
scarf - Forever21
bracelet - Icing
purple tights - WeLoveColors
shoes - Ross ($10.99!)

The shoes pinch my toes and hurt like a sonofabitch, but I looooove them. I now know better than to wear them for entire days out and about. They're good for quick errands or appointments, meals out where I'll be sitting the majority of the time, etc.

a week in the life

In the spirit of my recent post, "It's not about the 'un'", I'd like to share with all of you some of the educational goings-on of our home in the last week or so. This place feels like a constant stream of questions and answers, exploration and discovery, reading - watching - playing.

• As per usual, Silas has spent each night with his nose in a book, only setting it aside when he realizes he can't keep his eyes open any longer. On the edge of his bed: Socks by Beverly Cleary, Calvin & Hobbes, Garfield, an Eye Witness book about armor and weaponry and one about spies, as well as a few science books about tornadoes and spiders and the human body.

• We had a conversation a few days ago while in the car about wind currents and why clouds move across the sky so quickly sometimes. We also talked about why overcast days are sometimes warmer than clear-skied days.

• We visited the beach at Fort Worden and the kids buried Silas in sand and played in the water and scavenged for interesting driftwood. There were even a few dried-out crab shells and things found along the way.

• Last week in a parking lot Silas saw a small bird up close. He quickly declared it a female. When I asked him what made him think that he said, "girl birds don't have the colorful feathers usually, just the boring feathers." I asked him if he knew why. He told me, "it's the male birds job to attract the females. It's kind of the opposite of how people are. Ladies try to be pretty and guys just kind of do whatever, but with birds it's the other way around." This all led to a conversation about "the beauty ideal" and how silly societal pressure to be sexy is.

• He made a comic that he described as "choose your own emotion" instead of "choose your own adventure". It started off with a person dropping or throwing a rock because he was scared of a dragon or monster, angry at a dragon or monster, happy or sad or excited about his wife or life. Lots of flip up pages and multiple choice.

• As I was cleaning out one of the junk drawers in the kitchen to prepare for the move, I stumbled across a small solar calculator. I didn't even remember its existence, so I gifted it to Silas. He was fascinated with the fact that if he covered the solar panels with his thumb that it would shut off. He also had quite a bit of fun typing in the largest numbers he could think of and adding them to other insanely large numbers. This led to him pulling out some play money and dividing it into equal piles to demonstrate multiplication. 3 piles of 4 = 12, 4 piles of 5 = 20 and so on. He did this for a good half an hour, getting excited every time he figured out a new number. He eventually got a little frustrated at how hard it was to do in his head and so I told him about multiplication tables and how useful they can be to memorize. I used the example of "sight-words" when he first learned to read and how valuable it is now to not have to sound out THE, AND, ARE, etc every time he sits down to read. I told him it was much the same way with multiplication, that if he memorized all the way up to 10 x 10, he could multiply columns without having to think as hard. He requested that we print a few up! He even wants one in the bathroom.

• He also started practicing addition of multiple-digit numbers on his own and is enjoying it immensely. He's started making up problems and solving them just for fun.

• Earlier today he made a collage that depicted the life cycle of a cat, using some cat stickers I'd picked up for him. It started with a Mama cat feeding her litter, then the cats were kittens, then a year or two old, then adults, then two adults would start the cycle all over again. I think he just wanted an excuse to use those kitten stickers, but all the creativity was a bonus.

• We went seaglass hunting at North Beach last week, only to discover the tide was kind of high that time of day. He knew that the tide was controlled by the moon, but wanted to know more once we got home. We found a section on the tides in one of his science books and he was satisfied to finally know and understand the whole concept.

• We watched Forrest Gump together a few days ago. It was the first time he'd ever seen it and he absolutely loved it! It opened lots of doors to talking about history and politics and the army... always a good time.

I was having a Rorschach kind of weekend.

My righteous indignation can sometimes get a little out of control if left unchecked.

Few things make me stabbier than when I see Hummers. This one had a vanity plate AND a carseat in the back. I think I may have puked in my mouth. I have a feeling that even though they're not making these anymore, I'll be seeing a lot of them around. Car dealerships are practically giving them away because they know that their market is closing and only a select few jerks still want to drive them.

We went to a certain store I shall not name to try and find Silas an inexpensive kite for the summer. We scoured each toy aisle, not sure where the kites were... once we finally found them, every last kite was branded to high hell and/or gendered beyond belief. Like the Skittles kites in the above picture. Skittles? Seriously?

Or I guess he could have Buzz Lightyear or fighter jets or Barbie princesses... VOMIT. Sure, they were only a buck, but I got all kinds of ticked off and decided I'd better just look for one around town instead. It may cost me 5 to 10 times as much, but it's guaranteed to be well-made and not covered in cartoon characters.

And last, but not least - when did Bret Michaels and Heidi Montag get the same face? They have the exact same face.