rrs: my life in stumptown

So my TheRRS blog has been tied in with a couple other blogs on tumblr. Its made for a messy, unpleasant experience for me. And I’ll happily use that as a scapegoat for my lack of posting. :) So I hacked it and moved it here:

http://pdxrrs.tumblr.com

it is still on the usual URL- http://therrs.com

that’s all :)

This has been an oddly cool Holiday season for us. This is the first time in fifteen years as a family, that we have spent the holidays virtually alone. As in, no extended family. Both the mister and I have a huge extended family and its not uncommon for us to be among thirty-odd guests during holiday dinners. 

With the departure of my sister back to California, that leaves just us up here. The rest of our families are scattered across Northern and Southern California, Nevada, the East Coast, Honduras and across the ocean in Fiji, Hawaii, New Zealand and Australia. So, when I say alone, the six of us plus our furry kids really means “alone.”

We spent the Thanksgiving holiday “back home” in San Francisco and the East Bay with the misters family. 

As soon as we came back home to Portland, we didn’t waste any time getting into the Holiday spirit. We chopped down a few trees to decorate…

…Only, the mini had a few other ideas about decorating- and since then we’ve had a tree 3/4 bare. Not to worry. We had two other trees out of reach that we stashed the presents under. 

Moving along to things the mini couldn’t wreck, we decided that holiday baking would be something fun to do. Only, the mister had his wisdom teeth out a couple weeks ago and he’s still suffering. Through two rounds of baking over the last two weeks, and one last-ditch baking effort during Christmas afternoon, he really hasn’t enjoyed much of the tasty treats.

We started off making a batch of Russian tea cakes, peppermint bark with both Ghiradelli white and milk chocolates, and candy cane cookies. For round two we did another tray of peppermint bark and a batch of lemon-vanilla meringues and peppermint meringues. Finally, sick of peppermint… Christmas afternoon we made some wonderful sugar cookies. I have to admit, it was really fun to make such a basic cookie and then paint on a glaze like frosting and sprinkles. They were delicious!

And the mister, being the awesome guy he is… made an amazing Apricot glazed ham for Christmas dinner. Seeing as it was “just us” and the mister wouldn’t be able to eat much, I figured I’d only make from scratch the few things that I cared to enjoy. Not like the boys would notice the difference anyway.

So, I settled on splurging on stuffing. I started out with a Marsee bakery loaf of sourdough and diced it into cubes. I tossed the cubes in a drizzle of olive oil and Herbs de Provence and then baked them until they were crisp and slightly browned. I let them sit out over night —even with crouton capers loose in my house (son #2)! Christmas afternoon, when the ham was just about done, I sautéed two shallots, about eight cloves of garlic and sliced celery. I tossed in the croutons and doused with broth until it was nice and mushy. The mister definitely enjoyed. 

The skimp items were yams (I had just made these from scratch for Thanksgiving) and the cranberry (oddly, the boys like the jiggly crap that comes from the can).  The green beans I made in a skillet atop the BBQ when the mister was done with our pig ham. But those were not touched by anyone but myself. No surprises there. I like to avoid tears on Christmas, so I didn’t say anything about the avoidance of the greens and let the kids eat cookies.  Just because, it was our “first” Christmas as a family. And, because I am a bad mom :)

I hope you all celebrated (or not) with loved ones and friends. I hope you enjoyed each others company and cheered for the small and often overlooked enjoyments in life. Here’s to 2012, friends!

It’s raining it’s pouring… You get it now. The holy trinity (as I’ve come to refer to them) are snoring again. This time it’s raining and I am oddly comforted by the sound of the rain rather than annoyed about being awakened by their snoring. I *DO* have a lot to be annoyed about lately, but I am really trying hard to clear my mind. Very Buddhist. Well, trying. If anyone out there knows much about Buddhism or meditation give me a shout- I could use some guidance on how to quiet my mind and find some clarity.

When I said I have a lot to be annoyed with I wasn’t kidding- this has been one of the most confusing and chaos-filled times in my life. Just when I feel things are settled and at peace the snow globe of life shakes.

My sister just recently moved back to California, which is where our families are originally from. After ten years, Portland just didn’t work out for her and her family. And while ten years ago I may have felt the need to uproot and follow her here, I no longer feel that sense of dependency. I am in a different place now than ten years ago. Ten years ago I was in my early twenties and had lost my father a few weeks before also losing my sister to a city 600 miles away. It was a one-two punch; a devastating blow. We packed up and followed five years later and here we are, celebrating our fifth fall in Portland. Our family is thriving here.

I definitely will miss my sister, my brother in law, and my niece and nephew immensely. Yet, I am very much at ease with their decision and the distance between us now hardly feels as menacing as it was when she moved to Portland.

The annoying part is that regardless of how at ease with the situation I may be, I am not quite at peace as I mull over this new strange sensation in my gut. What is this feeling? I am not sure. Is it confusion, uncertainty, guilt, isolation? I’m having a tough time trying to figure out what it is exactly I am feeling. Perhaps it is just trying to find my place with my one tie to Portland now removed? We’ve settled in well, but have no real ties here. My hubby works from home for a job back in California. He now, however, is becoming a volunteer firefighter here with TVF&R, so he’s developing roots, of a sort. The kids are all well situated and loving their schools and friends they’ve made in the last five years, I am sure they feel rooted.

Me? I am still passionately in love with Portland everyday. But at times feel untethered. I have worked with two great organizations here in Portland, before deciding to scale back and freelance so that I could pursue another career path. A completely different one. I blame that on Portland (in a good way). Had we not moved here and had the experiences we have had, I may not have chosen to give up the ten years I spent in MarCom to pursue an education and career in Womens Health. I may not have been compelled to try and shoestring together a surf apparel line in my spare time (brought on undoubtedly by the lack of sun here). Perhaps as I make further strides towards these goals I will begin to see some real concrete bonds evolve.

What I do know for now, amidst all these unsettling feelings and changes, is that I don’t feel finished with Portland or the northwest. It would sadden me to leave. The northwest has been a place of opportunity and healthy change so far, of that I am certain.

It’s been 35 days since we kicked off summer and, as you might have guessed by the lack of posting, a very busy one. 

Back in June we enjoyed a few trips to Periander Park and a hike at Council Crest. The hike was a short one, with much difficulty trying to navigate a stroller through the tight trail. We made a note to head back in July when my mom and her husband were out for a visit.

Mom tends to visit once or twice a year. And, as its been three years since we bought our condo, we’ve been slowly getting around to painting the interior and making it feel like home. Last Christmas we finally managed to get a respectable amount of painting done in the living areas. This summer we’re focused on getting as much as the living level of the condo done as possible. We attempted to paint the kitchen and dining area prior to Mom’s visit the first week of July. FAIL!

We managed to slap on some color on one wall and the bar area. 

The week Mom came to town, my sis and I split her visit between the two of us. After an eventful party for my sisters 42 birthday on July 2, we headed to the coast for July 4- my father in laws birthday, as well as our National birthday, to offer some flowers to the Pacific in his remembrance.

This is always a happy and emotional roller coaster for the family. We’re surrounded by loved ones, but missing Papa. My husband has been dealing with the sadness of losing his father and slowly coming around to a less painful place when talking and thinking about him. If anyone can understand this, its me. I lost my father ten years ago and it did take a considerable amount of time to be able to converse about him happily, without being reduced to a puddling mess of tears and breathlessness. 

As per usual, the trip to the Ocean was healing. Everyone had a good time. And —as per usual— Oregon delivered on its rugged weather at the beach. Never a relaxing sun-soaking trip, you come to appreciate Oregon’s coast for its uniqueness and stunning beauty.

Wrapping up our day at the beach, we headed back to the ‘burbs for good ol’ fashioned fire-cracker fun. Very ‘Merican. The kids are getting to the age where lighting fire-crackers themselves is quite the big deal and my heart palpitates while wild handless-fingerless fears race through my brain. This is dad territory. I want no part. 

Post Fourth, we decide to head back to Council Crest for a real hike. I ditch the stroller and we opt for the baby back pack. Between two suvs, the six adults and six children head to the top and decide on a descent on the Marquam Trail to the Marquam Shelter. Round trip about four miles. What goes down, must come up- and I was actually thankful for the incline on the way back as I was feeling the wobbles in my knees from a two mile descent. The incline, though tough, was a welcomed relief on my knees. (Yes, I did this in the Vibrams). The kids fared well. Our boys are super fit, playing sports year round and had no problems with a four mile hike, my oldest sprinting up hill during the last mile.  Even Mom and her husband had a good hike, despite losing a cell phone on the densely wooded trail. My sister and brother in law seemed to have a good time, despite my nephew disappearing on the trail five minutes ahead of us and my niece feeling light headed after such a demanding hike.

The rest of Mom’s visit was loaded with family dinners, enjoying the Farmers Market and all around relaxation. Mom and her husband left us for a few days to spend time in Seattle, and I am still hoping that one of these weekends includes a Seattle trip for the rest of us. 

The kids have been busy trying to execute a micro-business selling frog-inspired bookmarks, toys and “frogaide”. They’ve done really well raking in nearly $30 after just a couple of weeks touting their crafty wares.

Home alone, sort of, again we’re scurrying to paint more of the condo- the rest of the living room and the entry way- as we prepare for another round of visitors for this weekends FiverWest event. Let’s just say I’m on home detail duty, while the hubby is on garage detail duty. This is truly a fun time of year filled with beer, bimmer enthusiasts and bbq.

Yes. I did. I am sure by the title you know exactly what is coming in this post.

I picked up a pair of Vibram FiveFingers. Why, you may ask? Why the hell not? If these suckers work and relieve my back and leg, the 100 bucks invested is the equivalent of six bottles of extra strength Advil. It’s worth a try. 

I first saw the Vibrams on a guy near Pioneer Square back in the summer of 2007. He definitely did not look like a runner. I made a mental note that I had to find out what on earth he had strapped to his feet. Naturally, I forgot. 

By 2008, I was seeing them pop up on my training runs and a few runners with them during the HTC race. Mental note again to find out what they were. This time I remembered to check into it. I frantically Googled “toe shoes” and Vibrams were the first to pop up. I read and forgot about them thinking they were not a huge deal, and I wasn’t a real competitive runner so why would I need them?

Over the last few years, however, as I have seen these ogre-esque shoes popping up all over I also began reading in greater frequency in Runner’s World and Running Times about minimalist running, barefoot running and the Vibrams. I started paying attention. 

I was hearing the same thing over and over. That running barefoot was decreasing or eliminating many runners stress injuries such as ITBS and plantar fasciitis. By way of correcting and improving form, people were eliminating their need for orthotics and special running shoes. 

Let me clarify that running does not hurt me. I do not suffer from any running conditions or repetitive stress injuries. Running actually makes my aching body feel better. My problem and major driving factor for looking into these goofy shoes are various issues that I have had for a decade with my back, that are now contributing to problems in my right leg and foot. I spent my childhood dancing, flipping and otherwise inflicting injury to myself. I spent a good chunk of my adult life teaching dance as well, so my back and toes have taken a beating.

In 2009 I herniated a disc in my back and opted to not have a discectomy and instead go against the grain and just receive steroid injections into my spine. My doctor didn’t think it would be successful and after two rounds of injections we were both pleased that surgery was avoided. It took me about three months from the time I herniated the disc and received treatment until I was running again. 

Only then did I start getting strange sensations down the right side of my body. My right foot would fall asleep while I was sitting. A dull ache would spring up behind my knee and morph into a throbbing twenty minute personal hell. I would be awakened by the same type of cramping that I had during pregnancy several times a week. Next came the foot spasms, again on the right side. My foot would tweak and turn inward towards the left leg. No amount of standing, walking or flexing would settle it down. I’d just wait it out.  Then it started affecting my running. These tweaks started creeping in on my runs. My right foot would get tingly and feel like it was going to burst from my running shoe. Or my shin would get cold, loose feeling. 

These issues, combined with watching my newest child learn to walk had me thinking that maybe some barefoot time would work like a therapy for me. Engrossed in reading about the benefits of babies learning to walk barefoot and spend as much time developing these walking and balancing skills barefoot as possible, it just clicked for me.  

I started thinking about the shoes I had been running in. I developed a love for minimalist shoes after spending my childhood dancing. Alternating between dancing barefoot and cramming my toes into tap and ballet shoes, I’ve done the same with my running shoes. I like ‘em tight, and preferably without socks. Gross, I know, but I need to feel. I learned to accept about five years ago that I may love to wear Nikes, but my feet aren’t happy running in them. They just don’t work for me. After trying Nikes, New Balances and Adidas I came to the conclusion that if I am wearing a shoe to run, its going to be the AdiZero Pro3.

This shoe has seen more mileage than I can count. This shoe is so light and flexible I barely notice them when running.

When I started tacking on mileage again last summer and with the weird leg problems antagonizing me, I decided to pick up a pair of Mizunos thinking I needed more support than what I was getting from the AdiZero. Definitely wrong. The Mizunos do fit like a glove, but I noticed that my right foot would sort of fall asleep on my long runs when I wore them. That feeling has yet to occur in the Adi’s.

So, sitting here with a barely used pair of Mizunos and a great pair of Adi’s I thought, maybe I should try that barefoot thing. Maybe, just maybe, wearing these for my daily use will put my legs and back in a good place as they seem to be helping injured runners get properly aligned.

Then maybe, just maybe I can run in them if they really work.  

And yes, I did manage to pick up a copy of that book.

Ok, so it’s technically not spelunking from what I can gather by the loose definition. Ape Cave happens to be a landmark frequented by the public and maintained. Spelunking is the exploration of natural caves not publicly maintained. Minor exaggeration aside, we thoroughly enjoyed the expedition to Ape Cave at Mount St Helens this past weekend.

Typical for our family, this was a last minute venture brought on by a mid-morning text from my sister. She was heading out and wanted to take our boys. My hubby was instantly on-board to make it a family trip. 

We prepared, if you want to call it that, by grabbing all flashlights (which was, uh, one functioning maglite), some grub at the store and our water bottles.
We made a pit stop on Burnside to meet up with the sister and her crew (hubby, niece and nephew). I picked up a headlamp- knowing I’d need it anyway in a few months for HTC.

Oddly enough, none of us expected snow. Don’t ask how we overlooked this important detail. But there was in fact, a mile hike ahead of us in some slush. I would guess 2-3 feet of it, judging by how much of the kids bodies were engulfed during their agonizing trudging.

The hike to the cave entrance was about a mile. After we arrived at Ape Cave, we had to navigate the snowy-slushy covered descent into the cave.  I had a (chubby) ten month old strapped to my back. Nuff said?  The kids mastered this with no problems. As did the sister, brother-in-law and my hubby. Thankfully he guided me through the first few steps covered in snow and I was able to crab walk down the remaining steps. Mind you, I have a really bad fear of heights. Staircases and playground structures are NOT my friend. Especially with 20 pounds of child on my back.

We took the lower cave walk, which is a couple miles and dead-ends. Apparently this is the easier of the two. The upper cave involves some sort of 8-ft lava wall that requires scaling. Did I mention the kid on my back?

Our lower cave experience was magnificent. None of us had ever been in any sort of cave. So naturally we attacked this venture with the sort of gusto reserved for seasoned hikers hitting up Everest with a sherpa. The kids absolutely loved the peaking ceiling, the walls that would occasionally narrow, and the dripping water from above. No bats on this trek, but I did manage to fool them for about five seconds into thinking that it wasn’t water, but bat poop falling from above. 

We had a blast intermittently turning off our headlamps and flashlights to marvel at
the utter blackness around us. The kids would whoop and holler and laugh at their echoes. We’d take turns shining lights on ourselves and try to get pictures of the lava pilings on the walls behind us. The kids found small lava rocks to pocket with them.

After about an hour of treking in we decided to turn it around (I believe there was only a quarter mile left) and head back. Mindful of the time, the mile long snow-hike back to the parking lot and the funny smell and sounds emanating from the dark end of the cave head of us (cough cough pot cough cough heads).

Naturally the trek back to the entrance was more forgiving, even if at an incline. We parked ourselves at the top of the entrance and began feasting on our sandwiches and snacks. Pretty soon we noticed we were being watched. Stalked, more like it.  We looked up and saw a few birds (sparrows, maybe?) staring at our loot. One of the kids who happened not to be a fan of bread crust, was sure to accidentally drop some. Sure enough the bird swooped in and picked it up.

That was all it took to set the kids off on a spree of crust-feeding. Yes, we know better than to encourage this. We also know that our suburbanite children crave interaction with the natural world. They put a few nibbles of crust on the tree branch and the birds would come down and retrieve them. Then they came down and waited on the branch. The kids could barely get their hand to the branch before the birds would snatch the offering. The kids were completely mystified by these “wild” birds approaching them and next thing we knew, the birds were swiping crust from the kids’ palms. 

Out of food and becoming colder, we trudged back to our cars. It’s always the last
bit of the trip that pushes you over the edge. The fun is done, the wet socks and pant-legs no longer tolerable (remember, we weren’t expecting snow). Tears flowing, frustrations running high, whining ensued. Yes, the adults were in need of a time out. Kidding. Kidding. I KID! Actually the kids fared well, but the nephew was done-zo, as was my middle kid who suddenly realized his feet were cold and wet and NUMB. By the time we got to the car hysteria took hold as he realized he couldn’t feel his feet and couldn’t get the wet socks off. A few minutes of warmth in the car and all was well again. 

Watchful eyes penetrated once again. The birds followed us. Or so the kids believed. I’m *sure* there were only three birds on that mountain. 

Our trek home was a quiet one, filled with awe for the Northwest. Followed promptly by a damning headache and dizziness.

I am genuinely laughing my ass off at this moment.  How could I possibly create a New Years resolution when I cannot manage to post to my blog more than once every two and a half months?

Believe me, it’s not for lack of trying.  Baby brain has just stuck around a lot longer than normal this time. I promised updates sans baby, so I must deliver.

To do so, I’ll go back and let out some steam re: Albertson’s Douche Bag Clerk. I saw him again and narrowly escaped his checkout line over the holiday week and it reignited my desire to out him on my blog.

This jerk liked commenting on my unseasonably warm apparel.  It was a cold(ish) October night.  I had on jeans, t-shirt, thick Columbia jacket, beanie, scarf and some Wellies.

Let’s just pause right here, because Oregonians lurrrve their weather-gear.  I’ve seen peeps rolling around Portland in rain gear or Uggs and scarves as soon as the clouds come through at the end of summer.  So, my choice of clothing in October was modest all things considered.

I’ll start by breaking down the offending get up:

Jeans: totally normal

T-shirt: a little chilly for a t-shirt, hence

Jacket: right now all I have save for one sweatshirt (okay, okay- its been four years since I left California, I need to remember the benefit of layers and long sleeves here in Oregon)

Scarf: Was really more of one of those hipster-y scarves, not really a warmth generator

Wellies: My dog walking shoes, already had mud from some earlier rain.

Beanie: My hair looked like shit. No, really, like shit.

Ok, there you have it. Not a biggie.  Not like I showed up in snow bib, gloves and ski mask. I didn’t go running around the house grabbing every warm item owned because I was cold. It was all circumstantial.

Back to Douche Bag Clerk.

My biggest problem with this guy (aside from the fact that he once denied me alcohol and then I had to leave the store so my husband could purchase it) is that every time I end up in his line he starts popping off with the comments. Like that night:

DBC: “A little early to be dressed that warm, huh?”

Me: “Uh, what?” (why is this ass talking to me?)

DBC: “If you think its cold now, just wait until Winter starts”

Me: “Actually, I’m not cold” (why I am even responding?)

DBC: “What’s with the boots and hat then?”

Me: “Walking my dog, you know, mud” (you’re that grinch who wont sell me wine!)

DBC: “Well then what’s with the jacket and scarf? You know it’s not even cold now, you’re gonna be sorry in a couple of months”

Me: “Look, ass face, you’re carrying an extra two Michelin’s around your middle, your blood may be running a little warmer than others.” (Yeah, that last part was in my head as I walked out with my groceries, but it was a good one, huh?)

At what point did customer service oriented chatter cross the line into banter?  I can’t stand Albertson’s anyway, and their clerks are the absolute worst. Albertson’s is just unreasonably close to my home for last-minute things. So seriously, why are clerks chatting up patrons like this? Just say hi, smile, take my money and pack my shit up without cracking my eggs!

Now that I’ve hashed that out. I’ll find more non-baby related things to share.

Oh yes, resolution. No fast-food. Like, ever. On top of a million other “sounds good” ideas, like updating the blog. I’ll share them with you here.  Be back in two months.  ;)