His very own bedroom.

Just a day in the life ;)  Goofy, through and through.

So, we've changed the house all around, again.  I know it probably seems pathological by now,  but the kid's needs keep changing as he grows, so our space keeps changing too...

B.P (Before Phoenix), I could switch our entire loft around, move every piece of furniture, clothing, book, you name it, clean the whole loft and have it all put back together by the end of the day.  And we had a lot of shit back then.  But nothing, nothing, compares to switching a house around once you have a kid.  Thank gawd E and I have purged almost everything we own (or stored it at my mom's - thanks mom!!!)  

So, long story short, three thousand sea shells, pet rocks, and tiny trinkets later, the toys and the beds cohabitate and the dining table is back by the kitchen (our beloved family dinners rejoiced!).  Apparently, the child doesn't remember ever having beds in between nightstands with lamps on them (we've been in the tiny room with the loft for so long.)  So as we shoved stuff into new spots, the child exclaimed, "This is like a real bedroom.  This is how other people have their houses!"  I chuckled, I couldn't help it, and he said, "No, really, Mama.  If you go to other people's houses, this is just how they do it.  Beds with tables and lamps and rugs at the ends...  This is just like a real house now!"  

Alex P Keaton, calling Alex P Keaton.  

I also cleared everything out of our storage area, erm, I mean hallway, which was an undertaking of momentous proportions.  And as I hauled and hoisted, the child was fabulously, startlingly, self-entertaining.   He took a paper BB and decorated him, gabbing at me about the story that was unfolding with each new body addition.  Most of this was done while wearing my Wellies, which seemed like a non-sequitor to me, but what do I know?  

That night he was sooo excited to go to sleep in "his" bedroom.  (We've never had the toys (aka, P's stuff) in the same room as the beds before.   Nor had we labeled the new set-up as such, but apparently this is the child's definition of small person bedroom: bed+ toys = kid's room.)  He slept in the twin that lays beside the queen that night and E and I moved into the same bed (after an almost 6 year hiatus.  Halle-frickin-lujah.) 

The next night he still slept in his bed.

The next night he fell asleep in ours, but happily moved back to his.

The next night, as he lay in his, supposedly drifting off, he suddenly sat back up and announced, "Mama!  I just had the best idea.  Do you want me to tell you?"  Then he described how we could build a wall between his bed and ours, with a hallway that went out to the kitchen, so that he could get up if he needed without bothering us.  He elaborated on the hallway idea for a while and then paused.  Then he added a little hole in this wall, right by where my head is, so that he could still talk to me.  Kinda like the one the subway people sit behind, he said.  Another pause.  Then, noticing we were holding hands, he added a large hole down at the mattress level, so that we could still reach each other.   Separate rooms, with the added bonus of not being separate ;)

He has continued to sleep in his bed, every night.  OMG.  Granted, he sleeps squeezed up against the side of our queen (which is a lovely 6 inches higher than his twin, meaning NO ONE kicks me anymore at night.)  But he stays in his bed.  And can still reach my hand if he needs it to hold.  Its dreamy perfect :)

I can't even begin to express how precious this is, watching him war with the whole notion of growing up.  I'm fascinated to see how long having us in "his own room," is still roomy enough for him...  The days are, so very obviously, numbered, and that's positively palpable these days.

Somewhere, one day...

A couple of days into our trip, the fog lifted and left us with astounding views of the rugged coast, devoid of people - and drop dead gorgeous.  Then, as we rounded a bend, we all squealed (ok, maybe I squealed and the boys smiled.  But it was something like that...)  Those rocks!  We had to get to them.  

We spied a small spot and pulled off.  Yay!  There looked to be a tiny trail!  E seemed cynical.  "That's not a trail."  Ever the optimists, P and I assured him we were indeed en route to the shore.  

Ha.  Double haha.  E snapped a pic (I kid you not when I tell you that E's blurry action shot was taken in an open spot. This underbrush was ridiculous)  as we attempted to follow what we eventually realized must have been an (non human) animal trail, frequented by humans only at the top of the hill...  He suggested we turn back, but the Little Man and I were determined.  We wanted that beach.  

And, full of stickers and scratches and cobwebs, we finally found it.  

I know.  It really doesn't look all that stellar here.  But for a kid that loves rocks and rock climbing and jumping on rocks over water, it was the end all be all of beaches.  

And what you can't see in that photo is what's lurking between each of those rocks... ocean!  The tide washes right in and fills hundreds of tidal pools in each little nook and cranny.  

This close up shows what the hike was really like.  Precarious jumping and tidal pool gazing madness.  The kid was So Happy.  There were about a zillion hermit shell crabs and gorgeous pink starfish, alongside a billion sea attractions we knew nothing of.  I was so busy jumping around and exclaiming how happy I was, I forgot to take enough photos to show how fab the spot is!  Not that we could ever find it again...

E, watching the small pools rise and fall.  The waxing and waning of the waves, going from a murmur to a rumble again and again, was the most mesmerizing sound I've ever heard.  It babbled like a brook because of all of the little spots in the rocks, and it simultaneously crashed against the boulders,  creating a two part water harmony.  E and I could have perched for hours, just listening and looking.

Scratched, bunged up, dirty, underfed... but happy.  The Little Man found the most glorious crab claws here.  And thus began a whole new level of collecting obsession;)

But the Little Man is a little less view, a little more do ;)  So we climbed and collected and grinned and proclaimed our sincere satisfaction, over and over and over.  And then we were almost burnt and had to head back to the bushes.

And here things went a wee bit south.  Have I mentioned my issue with snakes?  We all have a thing.  You know, something kinda irrational, kinda silly.  E's is spiders (I think they're pretty.)  Mine's snakes.  And its pretty serious.  Did I mention irrational?

So I led the way, clambering over the rocks, in the general direction of the car while E muttered something about breadcrumb trails and hoping to get to the top of the hill before next Sunday.  And then I almost stepped on a ginormous snake, sunbathing.  Insert full body convulsion (mine and the snake's).  It slithered off.  I screamed.

Then I tried to calmly warn the boys and proceeded towards the hill.   P came zigzagging towards me and loped past.... right into a very. large. den.  To the child, it looked like a clever spot to climb.  I grabbed him like whiplash and turned on my rock to dance back the direction my methodical husband was meandering when my dance went dark.  The den was behind me, holding gawd knows what.  The snake was in front of me.  To my side was a crumbling rock wall that we couldn't climb.  Bouncing around my brain were the large piles of shat we had hiked past.  And I was frozen like an idiot who wanted to do nothing but another full body shake.  Nice.  Where's that cool as a cucumber emergency thing when I need it?!?  Apparently, snakes are serious kryptonite to mommy's cool.

When I told E he needed to come back and walk with me his look labeled me a loon.  I made a second shaky request, trying to sound calm (cuz the kid didn't need to freak just because snakes remove all rational thought from his mother) and E said,  (downbeat) "Seriously?"

I remember liking it that he found a request for help out of the ordinary, but that didn't necessarily drum up deep wells of strength right then ;)

Soooo, as we (quite loudly) sang our way back through the tall grass, now obviously teeming with snakes, we came across this:

The shot captures only a few of the pieces of the giant skeleton that was there.  I know next to nuthin' about Oregonian wildlife, but this fucker was big.  (Making the terribly large den and scat even larger in my mind.)   But large elk just lay down and die of, erm, old age every day in Oregon, right?


While we were really, really happy to reach the car that afternoon, I think its safe to say it ranked in our top fave beaches for the trip.  Sans snake, of course.

Devil's Elbow State Park

The fog was fascinating.  It definitely added to the drama :)  E and I were endlessly fascinated by the scenery, stopping at tiny pull off after tiny pull off to look over the cliffs at the blanketed ocean.  Occasionally we'd linger long enough that the child would climb out of the car to join us.  But, typically, he was so worn out from whatever previous hike he'd encountered that he was happy to wait in his booster seat :)  

Another roadside attraction....  I wonder if it was just "more trees" to the kid....

He did dismount for Devil's Elbow.  It was the most populated hike we took; there were at least a whole 8 other cars in the parking lot ;)  And I was bound and determined to get to the Scenic Light House Look-Over.  The child, was not.  He saw a small path leading off to gawd knows where and wanted to go there.  I'd skipped so many planned stops so far, loving my guys and following their hearts, knowing that none of those hikes or skipped sights really mattered anyhow, that I think I was feeling a bit frisky this go -around...  It was one of the few riffs we had the whole trip, with both of us acting a bit like a baby ;)  This, of course, is much more pathetic in someone of double digits...


At any rate, (and it was a slow, turtle's rate, let me tell you)  we took a few detours:

Can you find Phoenix?

and eventually made it to the lighthouse.  I will never forget the conversation the child and I had on the way up about love and friendship.  I learned a lot :)

Half way there....

After this delightful hike ;) we followed the kid's lead and had a heavenly time.  I don't want to paint the picture of a little tyrant here or anything, he just isn't into the whole self sacrifice thing quite yet, being only five and all ;)  I get it.  Sometimes I just forget....

The child's chosen path weaved its way to the most gorgeous view.  I'm not sure how we skipped taking a picture of the ocean filled gorge, I think we were all too enraptured to think of it.  And the flowers were like large white spaceships, that the child sooooo wanted to pick, but stuck to prodding at instead (in hopes that one would just topple over "naturally" and therefore be collectible;)   We cuddled and watched the huge waves whip us with salt spray.

And then, as E moved to go, P dashed down a different direction.  Following, (hey, I'm slow, but not totally idiotic, the lesson of the day was definitely wu wei) I saw my karmic prize for letting lose.  A really, really gorgeous little beach with a fab little kid cave.   Empty, serene, all ours.

The rocks en route were rougher than they appear here, so we gave P a little extra help.  And then played the tide away...

Happy Birthday, Baby

E, trying to get a picture of P and I :)

We celebrated E's birthday this week.  (And my mom's last week - I love me some Virgos!!!)  Phoenix was adamant about finding presents for Papa (E and I never do gifts:)  So he wrapped a few treasured toys for his father last weekend.  Then, after counting his piggy bank holdings (and labeling different piles for different purposes: "toy mice" (the current collection of choice), "college savings" (I kid you not - where does he get this stuff?!?!), "toys and stuff", "charity" and "future house") he set aside a tiny pile for E.  I chuckled under my breath and the child pissily pointed out that he received birthday money in cards, and so should Papa :)

We also baked the poor hypoglycemic a cake, which can seem like an unthoughtful type of torture for the sugar averse, but we found an amazing recipe that wooed away E's sugar blues.  Black Bean Chocolate Cake.  This is not some sort of cocoa inspired chili nastiness, I swear.  And, though the reviews promised (non nasty) nirvana, the child and I certainly had doubts.  The smell was sweet while baking, but, really, cocoa in the oven can rarely stink.  While the child took his third bath for the day (he has a new tub tug boat) I whipped up my mom's famous frosting.  And crossed my fingers.

E loves chocolate flourless cake.  And, its true, there is no flour in this cake.  But it didn't have the consistency of flourless cake, per se.  Instead, it was a dead ringer for... a normal cake.  Normal meaning bean-free...  At any rate, it is a phenomenal fake.  And I know my cakes (20 years of vegetarianism didn't dim my sweet tooth).  It tastes just like chocolate cake.  But, as E pointed out, not just any chocolate cake, really good chocolate cake.  And the best part?  Our main man can eat it. It doesn't crash him.  And its actually packed with nutrition.  So, every night since his birthday, he's happily hummed his way to the fridge and cut himself a big piece.  Now, if that isn't a present for a dessert lovin' hypoglycemic, I don't know what is :)

Oh, an the 5?  It was the only candle we had :)  

South Foggarty Creek

I honestly can't remember the sequence of events for this trip... only few weeks later. (Thank gawd for the photo order...)  In fact, I couldn't remember where-we'd-been -when, about half way through the trip.  It was, strangely, instantly, a mental blur of green and fog and rock and happiness.  

I just know that, eventually, we were far enough from anywhere that food got scarce (ok, ok, we're a bit picky.  Fast food (thought I don't even remember seeing any of that) doesn't count as edible in our car and our snobbery had us eating out of our poorly stocked back pack for quite a few meals.  The child was a real champ about this.)  At any rate, somewhere along 101 and nowhere was South Foggarty Creek, and we stopped there on a whim.   There seemed to be a deer trail (or something:) through the dense bushes beside a tiny pull-off, so we followed it, excitedly.  Emerging from our green squeeze, the child saw his ideal bit of happiness:  a quiet beach with rocks to climb.

It was still foggy, still chilly, and the beach was eerily empty (at least it seemed so, to those of us used to Coney Island's craziness).  We loved it.    

One of our favorite features of the west coast beaches:  the rivers.  Almost every beach we stopped at had a clear river flowing though the sand into the surf.  Which is so freakin perfect for a kid to play in (when the waves are really roaring) that its just silly.  This was P's first river beach and he was enchanted by the river rocks and their possibilities.

Then he noticed that E had scaled the mini mountain and decided to cross the stream to follow suit.  The budding geologist was tickled to feel volcanic rock under his climbing toes.

The top had a few tiny tidal pools, something P had been determined to find while west, so he was infinitely satisfied at this point.  Between the tiny, overgrown hike, the fog wrapping around us and the ocean's wild roar pinning us to our private mountain, we (again ;) felt like wild west explorers.  If our first family trip wasn't enough, this sort of setting was the stuff solidarity is made of....

Fog and Factories

The weather followed us, so we followed 101 south a little faster than we had initially planned, skipping lots of spots we had highlighted back in Kansas.  We knew we were right by the ocean, but we rarely saw it through the thick, grey clouds.

One spot the rain didn't dampen - the Tillamook Cheese Factory.  P was excited to see what a food factory looked like, so we popped in for a little self-guided tour and a cone of fresh ice cream.

Cannon Beach

E and P, the only crazies on the beach...

We left Portland in the rain.  Tried a hike we'd read about half way to the beach... and got some heee-larious video footage of the child, less than happy. doing a dead ringer of a soaked, sad, little rat.  So we skipped ahead to highway 101.  I even loved the design of the signs for this highway.

The pictures do the site and the storm absolutely no justice.  There was fog, and sideways pouring rain, mixed with the sand that was flying in the Kansas-like wind.  Untouched, the pictures look like grey blurs.  But, ahhh, grey had never looked so good in real life.

We snagged one of the only pull-off parking spots, took the tiny trail between shingled houses and clambered down the steep stairs to the empty beach... only to behold the most amazing behemoths we had ever seen.

I think the child was slightly impressed, but the sideways sand upstaged the monoliths.  He kept jumping straight up into the air, seeing how far along the wind could blow him before he landed :)  Within just a few minutes, we were all soaked in a splendid mixture of rain, saltwater and sand and happily headed back up to the car, feeling like real adventurers ;)

Retreat!

Portland

Hiking in Portland

Our plan: start North, head South, follow highway 101.  We figured it would include our two favorite things in the world (other than each other): hiking (E and I) and beach-play (P). 

Seriously, the whole city was this pretty.  And clean.

First stop: Portland.  Which was so lovely, we all wanted to move.  Nothin' (in the US) touches New York's mass transit, but Portland comes damn close. And the city is seriously clean.  And seemingly empty (for a large city.  We kept walking the downtown area, wondering what the holiday was.)  And there was organic food everywhere.  Mostly local, too :)  And everywhere we went was environmentally friendly.  The toilets in the airport were dual flush.  Even the local, quick-food shops used glassware (and organic ingredients!)  Klean Kanteen water refill spots were everywhere.  It was definitely dreamy :)  The child was entirely enchanted with the tram system.  And the arial tram.  We were enchanted with the lack of traffic and the ability to drive the whole freakin' city in a day (when we skipped the trams...)

P and E scouting out the city from the sky.  

But what wowed us the most were the parks.  Seems like nothing (in the US) touches Central Park, either.  But this was amazing on a whole 'nuther level.  Pristine, perfect trails, and the trees!  Ohmygosh.  THE TREES.  Walking through these forests, well, it was truly beyond words.  Or, well, I've got a word : Happiness.  Or maybe, beauty.  Or, inspiring.  Or, hmm...

(This picture encapsulates my only torment on the trip.  There were so many sites I could have camped at for hours, shooting, sketching, seeing.  But a quick click as we hiked had to do.  The kid is too young to empathize with artistic needs :)  He was way too excited to race me through the trees (the dirt floor was amazing to run on!!!) to wait for such silliness.  But I'm glad I got the glimpses I did - this tree was the first P petted, purring contentedly "There's carpet on the trees here!")

And then you walk a few blocks or drive a minute or two and bam.  You are downtown again having an organic pizza with local veggies.  It was a good start to a blissful break.

Just a jump from the pizza place.  Really.  I love Portland!

Looking Back

The kid, playing with some huge sea plant, on Muir Beach, California.

We've traveled a lot with the kid.  And I feel unbelievably blessed to have traveled to see family in so many places, so many times in the last six years.  Despite our far flung existence, family is everything to us.

But this summer we did something a little different.  Yes, we visited family, but we also traveled just for us.  It was our first (Phoenix) family trip.  The first time we've talked about our wants and dreams and then made it happen.  And now I have a zillion stories (and about as many pictures) and I so want to include them in the Little Man's journal.  But we're still settling in and sleep is short and precious, so... :)

And then tonight, as we went to sleep, the kid rolled over and asked when, oh when, would we take a trip together again?  When would Papa have vacation so the three of us could explore and drive and play like that again???  It was wistful and sweet.  And I couldn't agree more.

And my tear factory nearly heaved thinking about how much I would like to bottle up his childhood; to be able to look at it for forever.  These are sweet, sweet days.  And I'm not bottling by blog very well.  Its all very twisted, really.  In order to completely appreciate this beautiful period, one must be well rested and extremely present.  If one is well rested (and I use that phrase very, very loosely:) and extremely present, one probably doesn't have time for posterity and all that jazz...  Hmmm, nasty conundrum.  Duly noted. (Well, sorry, Daddy, looks like I'll be behind for another day. At least there's a salutation ;)

So....

We've been busy.  And the blog gets the brunt of it.  A list of what's to come:
My parent's joint bday party (with water balloon fight.)
Double decker bike riding
P: Swimming!
A trip to an animal habitat with Uncle Jace and Grama Mimi
An afternoon with cousins (which will include egg picking and aggressive goats...)

And, last but not least, our first family road-trip.  Snakes, caves, beaches, redwood trees, rock climbing, light houses, more caves and more beaches (but thankfully, no more snakes), tidal pools, Trams, cable cars, air trams, turning tubes and disco triangles.... (and that's the short list lacking in shrunken heads and sideways sand:)

At any rate, we are alive! ;)