The old gang V 2.0

Oh boy oh boy! This weekend our dear friends, the McMillers, came up to visit us in the Bay Area and even stayed at our house. We had to get everyone together, just like back in the day. I'd say this get-together was a lot like parties from ten years ago:

Pre func: Eagerly waiting for our friends to show up

Midway through, wandering around the party in various stages of undress

Finally: everyone winds up in the hot tub.

Accessorized

Ahem, there was a mishap with our very, very fancy lens, and it's in the shop for repairs. It may be in ICU. So I thought I'd see how the old zoom lens does on our new-ish camera, and how I'm doing now that I'm getting the hang of shooting in manual mode. As you may be able to see, I'm too busy fiddling with the settings to master composition, but little missy was still being pretty cute. She's waaaay into dress-up these days. We forgot to bring a "beautiful skirt" to the beach with us last weekend, so she walked around with a pair of pajama pants tied around her head and a baby blanket around her waist. Guess I should post those photos next.

This is Anneke getting ready to see what Zoe does when she puts her new plastic ring on her tail.

Kroner house weekend

Last weekend we made a trip to Manzanita to stay at the Kroner House, so called because it's owned by...the Kroners. Dave's family has been renting this house since he was a kid. Dave and I have spent many weekends there, and it meant so much to finally bring Anneke along. It's cozy, not fancy, right on the beach--perfect. It was a challenging weekend for photography since the sunlight was BLINDING--probably brighter than it was all summer. I spent many a photo session grappling with harsh shadows and washed-out skies. I am not complaining about this inconvenience.

This was right before Dave and our daughter turned their backs to the ocean and I started fretfully wringing my hands.

Serendipity: we ran into one of Dave's cheese buddies at the bakery in town, and I dared ask if he knew of any good spots for finding chanterelles (this is kind of like asking someone where their favorite fishing hole is). He said that, as a matter of fact, he was heading there now! We promised not to reveal the secret spot and dragged our poor child on a long, steep hike. It was kind of a chanterelle death march. As it turns out, it was late in the season and many of the mushrooms we found were shriveled and not worth picking. But I really, really don't know a better way to spend time in a damp, loamy Pacific Northwest forest.

Lest we burn too many calories, there was apple oven pancake for breakfast.

Can you see the ladybug? Because Anneke can, and she first spotted it on a brisk beach walk, from probably three feet away. She has quite the radar for airplanes and lady bugs.

There was a beach fire and smores.

There was a beautiful sunset followed by a beautiful moonlit night.
Proof of life, since most of the time I was fiddling with the camera.

State of the toddler? Preschooler?

The parenting newsletters I get refer to children Anneke's age as a preschooler, but I thought she was still a toddler. It's safe to say she vacillates, which seems quite developmentally on-target. Speaking of development, I've fallen behind on tracking hers, either in a baby book or on this blog. I think I'll live to regret that. So: new feature! Monthly updates! Next month with better photos. I've also slacked on taking pictures. This one is from the Apple-Tasting at Portland Nursery. I dressed her in the cutest outfit she would let me choose for her, but it was raining so hard it was all we could do to trudge from tent to tent sampling apples and apple products, let alone get out the camera.

Here goes:

What she loves: her crayons and her water colors, and any arts and crafts. Nightgowns and all things princess--and this is with very, very little exposure to the all things princess that little girls are bombarded with. Beautiful, sparkly skirts and dresses. her rubber duckies. dancing to "church music," otherwise known as the choral music station on Pandora (hmmm. so weird. who started her on that?). getting bread at church (communion as snack time. oh, why not? ); sitting in her rocking chair and reading books.

What she does not love, and may actually hate: oh, the usual. sharing. time-out.

New developments: lots more pretend play these days. She pretends she on an airplane, and packs her luggage into a big papier-mache vase. She pretends a whoopie cushion contains an entire princess outfit for me, and she has me select each pretend item and helps me put it on. Tonight she was pretending to be a dog. With all the babies around, including the one in mommy's tummy, and with all the new "big girl" things she's doing like using the potty and riding her tricycle, of course she loves to pretend to be a baby. And secretly I love it when she does, too. Oh, and sometimes she uses the potty. I am still fairly confused about potty training. But based on what I've heard and read, I'm trying to not to pressure her, a la T. Berry Brazelton, while offering a treat when she does use the potty. I figure at 2 1/2 she's still got some time to figure it out.

Quotable quotes: "I love you, little Mama!"; "I want to get all cozy!" (i.e., be covered up); "Mommy (0r Daddy), are you frustrated?" (asked when I am, indeed, at the height of irritation, frustration, or just plain old mad). "Hi, baby!" "Good morning, baby!" (said to mommy's tummy).

Where I'm at: Working two days a week has been an adjustment--not nearly the load of working three days a week, or full-time, I realize, but just an adjustment. I have to be more planful and intentional about our time together because there is, in fact, less of it. Yet our days together can't and don't need to be all about keeping her entertained. If I don't get up early enough and have some kind of loose plan and structure to the day, I feel like Anneke ends up being shortchanged. I haven't hit the grieving period I know will come about it not being just the three of us anymore--I went through it with Dave before Anneke was born. But I know that's also on my mind on some level when I think about making the most of our time together. I've always, always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, and I still love being home with her.

Also, I do not get that child outdoors enough. We're both pretty happy being inside reading books, but there's definitely such a thing as too much of all that.

Cathedral Park Photo Shoot

It's my turn to blog about the latest Photo Club outing. I gave up on the shoot prematurely due to harsh light and feeling completely uninspired by the setting, and don't get me started on the flaws in these photos, but the subjects? Cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute.

I love how these two are walking with the gaits of six-year-olds in this one.

And how Anneke looks like a pensive fifteen-year-old in this one.

And, oh! back to being two and almost three!

Children who stare at goats...and turkeys

Sunday found us on another adventure courtesy of Dave's Cheese Habit, when we drove to Terra Farma in Corbett to pick up some raw goat milk. We happened to arrive on the day they were selling freshly slaughtered chickens and taking orders for Thanksgiving turkeys. Let me tell you, we had some good roast chicken that night. And for $3.35 a pound? For an organic chicken like the ones we saw running around the farm eating worms, that's a deal. All kinds of crunchy Portlanders showed up in shirts that said things like, "4th Annual Womyn's Music Festival." And we were having such a stinky, wholesome, down-on-the farm good time I didn't roll my eyes once.

And below you'll see Anneke picking out a Thanksgiving turkey.

9-12

On 9-11 I attended an interfaith service hosted by the community at Portland Rizwan Mosque. I still like to find ways to commemorate 9-11, and, personally, an interfaith service of healing and solidarity is the best way I know how. And at a mosque? Bonus!

I had no idea what to expect, but when I saw the long, long line of overflow parking I thought, "good," and remembered my change of heart about the throngs of people filling my church on Easter, how they used to make me grouchy until I realized an overflowing house of worship isn't necessarily a bad thing (unless they're burning Korans, I guess). I trudged up the hill in my uncomfortable heels as a man in a dark suit and sunglasses quickly caught up to me. I asked him what "community" he was from, and he hesitated and then sheepishly said, "actually, I'm from the federal government." Fancy that! Our hosts were nothing but friendly and hospitable--not sure when they found time to have their big Eid party amidst all of this.

The service consisted of a series of speakers from the Abrahamic faiths, plus some Buddhists for good measure. All found different ways to say a few things: terrorists and Koran burners do not represent us, and we rebuke these actions. We are called to love God and one another. Our religious traditions are meant to help us strive for peace and kinship. I sat next to Jews, Muslims, and Christians, and at various points throughout the service I saw lips moving and nods of recognition as familiar prayers in English, Hebrew, and Arabic were offered. I felt most at home when the Lutheran pastor had us all stand up and hug or shake the hand of the person next to us and wish them peace (ahem, I chose the handshake).

Naturally, it was the Buddhists who really brought it. I kind of felt like they were standing a little outside of the situation, and had their usual helpful Buddhist perspective. There were two speakers. One talked about fear, and how "1-2-3," it becomes fear-anger-hatred. The other led us through a quick-and-dirty "metta" practice of offering loving kindness to ourselves, a benefactor/friend, and one with whom we are in conflict. The reminder to find compassion for terrorists and Koran-burners was one of the most essential, and, of course, difficult. I do this practice at home from time to time, and it helps a lot. It makes me feel like a "better" Christian.

The Interfaith service I attended on 9-11-2001 opened with singing "America the Beautiful." I had never paid attention to the line, "America, America, God mend thine every flaw," and I remember bursting into tears when we came to it. What an important prayer. Yesterday I felt like part of this country's best self--like some of this mending was taking place in our gathering together. I absolutely do not believe this "best self" is necessarily religious. But yesterday a bunch of religious folks got together to take a stand for love, respect, justice, and sanity, and I was immensely proud to be a part of it.