“I give it two months,” he said.

Now you might remember how very thrilled I was to be able to keep my Minneapolis job. Even more than the awesomeness of not having to look for a new job after moving AND of being able to be close to home while the kids were getting settled (which were not insubstantial benefits), I was so glad to be able to keep doing something I love with people I love.

But The Husband was skeptical. Not so much about my love of the semicolon and the Oxford comma (and correct use thereof) nor about my feelings for my beloved coworkers (Team Awesome Unite!). But more about how long I’d be able to handle working in the basement day in and day out with no kitchen camaraderie, no hallway chatting, and most crucially, no weekly Chipotle runs. He figured it would take two months before I got all squirrelly and lonely and started polishing up the ol’ resume.

Well, two months came and went, and I still happily headed downstairs every morning. Two more months and I was still starting dinner conversations with, “you will not BELIEVE what happened in the status meeting today.” And now we’re approaching the six-month mark and I’m STILL (to quote the golden arches) lovin’ it!

I was a teensy bit worried about what would happen when school got out, especially since The Boy is my cubicle mate and he gets grumpy if he’s restricted to silence for too long while playing his video games. (That boy does love him some trash talk.) But turns out I needn’t have worried one bit – the only time the kids’ paths cross mine is when they stop by for a snuggle (a welcome interruption for sure).

And even those snuggles are restricted to a very short window. We’re trying a summertime experiment chez PM. We’re embracing the teenage tendency to night-owl/sleep-in and letting them go to bed after midnight and get up after noon. During their waking hours they have some reading requirements and a chore or two (basically whatever I decide I don’t feel like doing that day) but otherwise their days are their own, with the caveat that any early-morning appointments such as the orthodontist, doctor, or church are met with bright eyes, bushy tails, and no complaints.

(Is this a huge parenting fail? I let it go for the first while just as a “celebrating school’s out” reward and then realized that I was getting a ton of work done before they even crawled out of bed and that they were not only happier but they got along better. I look at the clock and it says 2 pm and I still haven’t heard any pitter-pattering of little feet and I think, “surely this is wrong. Surely only a completely irresponsible parent would allow this. Surely this is somehow limiting their future ability to be good social citizens…” But since I can’t come up with anything, we’ll continue to let it slide….)

It’s just a lovely, relaxed pace over here right now. Everybody’s getting enough sleep and nobody’s rushing to get anywhere so we’re all kinder and happier. I miss the monthly Minneapolis doughnuts, but being able to shut down for the day and head out for a walk with the munchkins to the library helps to make up for it.

So, too, does my newest discovery. Look where my office was yesterday!

(Yep. Took me six months to realize that my laptop doesn’t have to be in the basement. Who knows what I’ll figure out in the next six months? Maybe I’ll even realize that I can *gasp* go get myself a doughnut….)

 

It’s been a tough week down here in the good ol’ You Ess of Eh. This ain’t a political/current events blog, so I’m not going to go into gun control and the ever-ratcheting hatred and my waffling between despair and learned helplessness.

But Jesus, some days it’s a bit much.

When faced with similar feelings, Mother Teresa said, “What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family.”

So I’ve been loving hard this week. I’ve held these munchkins so close that they’ve squirmed. Fortunately, they’re still young enough that they hug back, so it’s not an entirely thankless job.

(An aside: I had no idea how amazing working at home over summer vacation could be. They sleep the morning away and spend the afternoon doing their own thing, but it’s all punctuated by random snuggles and stretchy, long children somehow still finding room on mama’s lap as they happen to pass by.)

Another thing that promotes world peace?

Cats.

Specifically, videos about cats.

Enjoyed in community and solidarity and with a sold-out theater of people who think that the happiest way to spend their Saturday night is with other like-minded folks laughing at cats.

(The Girl went purple-gray – cute, yes? Alas, The Husband missed getting our matching cat tank tops in the pic. Too bad. My cats are riding pizzas.)

It was hil-HAIR-balls. Oh, I do love me some cats beating up on each other and beating up on their humans and being all around awesome.

Honestly, it’s hard to think of a better panacea for times of sadness than cat videos. With your family beside you, loving each other and laughing at cats.

Speaking of cats, let me introduce you to our friend! Meet Emmett:

Emmett technically belongs to our neighbours. But even though they feed and house him, he still wanders over now and again for pets. He waits by the door for The Girl:

And when I see him, I yell in to her that Emmett is here to see her (because he loves her the best) and she comes running:

And, because what the world needs now is love, sweet love, let’s throw in some Father’s Day love, shall we? Here’s how The Husband spent his Father’s Day – being the best dad ever:

Teaching The Boy how to skate backwards!

The Boy is halfway through two weeks straight of evening hockey camp and The Husband is being a total champ about it. Every night, they grab the equipment and head out. And when there’s extracurricular effort required to bump up some of the skills, The Husband cheerfully finds some ice time and gives up his Sunday afternoon to teach backwards crossovers.

OK: cats, love, hockey. I’m feeling better already.

School’s out, woot!

(And yes, I know that y’all Canucks still have a few more weeks of school and are looking at us enviously. But while I’m not necessarily saying that more days in the classroom equals a better education, I will say that there’s probably a reason why Canadian universities take Canadian high school marks at face value while my kids will have to write SATs to prove that those As are for more than just showing up….)

HA! Listen to me counting my As before they’re hatched. Actually (shhh, don’t tell The Husband) I don’t even care what their marks are this year. This one’s a freebie as far as I’m concerned. I was way more worried about them fitting in and feeling welcome. Plus when you come into an entirely different school system, who knows where you are in the curriculum? Your peers might have taken the quadratic equation back in fifth grade and you were scheduled to get it in ninth and now you look like a loser because you don’t know your sine from your tan? Not in my (grade)book.

Nonetheless, both kids have done well. The Girl put me firmly into The Twilight Zone the other day when she asked whether a friend could come over because the friend needed her help with Algebra. (You may remember that this is The Girl’s third try at Algebra because the previous two attempts were teeth-gnashing failures.) When I faintly reached for my smelling salts to recover from the shock, she said “oh, well, now I know how to do it and this is my favourite stuff – it’s easy for me.”

And then yesterday she and some friends went downtown to hang out and celebrate the end of school (lol – they hung out at the bookstore – my kinda friends) and came back to our house for a bit. Is there anything better to warm mama heart cockles like hearing three girls giggling while trying on wigs and drawing in front of the TV while watching Shrek: The Musical? (Spoiler: no.)

I’m honestly humbled by how these kiddos have just taken this whole move in stride. And I’m starting to be grateful we made the move (as opposed to just resigned/hoping for the best). This town, these schools, this life we’re building – it suits them. When we were playing the “if Dad dies, where do you want to live?” game (what? you don’t play this game?), both kids without hesitation answered “here.”

And that, my friends, is worth celebrating. Better late than never:

As an apple fritter connoisseur, I can confirm that these are definite contenders. The glaze ratio is on point. The crusty, crumbly outside is a bit overwhelmed by the yeastiness of the inside, but it’s definitely better than VooDoo. Also – this shop is a cute local family business AND their kitchen is peanut free – she vehemently said, “Nada! No nuts here!” when I asked. So I suspect we’ll be back!

(But not anytime soon. I limited The Boy to two massive ones and then forced him to eat some scrambled eggs to try to rescue his poor pancreas, but pretty sure we’ll all be in sugar comas before lunch…. #justsummervacationthings, amirite?)

Me this weekend:

(source)

So…hot… We put an air conditioner up on The Boy’s room so the munchkins can sleep (see what I did there?) and our basement is as cool as a tornado cellar (stahhhppp PM….) but it’s still been pretty toasty. Nonetheless, we still managed to make it through the weekend with some good times!

First up, The Boy’s choir concert. Why yes, the auditorium was not air conditioned, what about these drowsy, sweaty faces gave you a clue?

You’ll notice a decided patriotic element. The theme was “America,” so we were treated to Americana folk songs, some good ol’ rock’n’roll and some rousing military anthems. Definitely an out-of-element experience for these Canadian pacifists! You might also notice that The Boy is barely mumbling. One of his friends went down at the lunchtime rehearsal, fainting due to the heat. So in this pic The Boy is concentrating almost exclusively on keeping his knees bent and doesn’t have any brain power to spare for something as complicated as lyrics.

On Friday The Girl and I had a hiLARious mama/daughter date:

(source)

It was a double feature with the documentary of these crazy kids in the 80s recreating Raiders of the Lost Ark shot for shot using a borrowed video camera, their mom’s basement, all the friends they could round up, and every school vacation for seven years. After the doc, these crazy kids (all grown up now) came by for a Q&A and then we got to watch their actual masterpiece.

So, so funny. We had a total blast. Didn’t hurt that the movie played in a historic theatre that had craft beer, artisanal soda, just-outta-the-oven pizza from the pizzeria next door, fresh popcorn with real butter, AND local handcrafted ice cream (because Portland).

(Hey Minneapolis peeps – it’s coming your way on July 7 – you should totally go!)

Saturday dawned hotter than the sixth circle of Hell, so we retrieved an item off last week’s to-do list and headed off to the beach.

(Look! I even got my sandwich!)

The Husband surfed, The Girl tended someone’s left-behind bonfire, The Boy did some boogie-boarding, and I read. It was WAY cooler – I was happily able to stay in my sweater and prevent the sun from touching any of my delicate, delicate skin.

Sunday was also insanely hot, but we still made it to the church BBQ. Oh yeah, I totally used the declarative and said “the” church. Because I think we might have found the one! Super friendly people. In fact, I haven’t met a church this intentionally welcoming since my beloved Minneapolis Mennonite church.

And there you have it. How to Survive a Heat Wave, Portland-style. Thank you Jesus the end is in sight.

It’s a moderate climate, they said….

Here’s the insanity in Freedom Units if you prefer:

Imma melt this weekend!