So, on late Sunday afternoon we headed back, hoping that the kids would rest, the baby would sleep and we would make it home in time to order take out and watch some DVR-ed shows.  Most people who travel The Pass stop “at the top” to take in the beauty, stretch, and use the state provided bathrooms.  As we passed that last rest area before “the top” I realized that I was cutting it a little bit close in terms of that state provided bathroom.  But, hey, I have a teacher bladder and I am sure I can make it.

Then we hit traffic.

Bad traffic.

Backed up for miles, bad traffic.

I am sure we’ll be along shortly.  We all thought.

So, to pass the time time (no pun intended) and to take my mind of the every-growing need to pee, I pulled out my camera.

Here is Jade’s vote for our Christmas picture 2010.  What is clear to me, is that we need a bigger car.

Entertaining the baby.

After a while I noticed that there were children playing on the freeway.  I then started to fear for my bladder.

Facebook updates informed us that we were looking at 10 miles of backups and a possible 2 hour delay.

I looked to my right — only to see a sheer rock face.  No hope for a behind-the-tree emergency potty break

I looked to my left — only to see tons of oncoming traffic. This is the one are of The Pass that does not have a center median.  No relief there.

I spotted possible salvation parked behind us.

This is one of those times I don’t think I am going to be able to talk Dave into helping out.  There is no way he is going to walk up to that camper, knock ont he door, and ask if his wife can use their bathroom.  Besides, it might have a serial killer inside, or really mean outdoorsmen.

Luckily, 90 minutes after we stopped, the lane next to us starting moving.  The camper pulled in next to us, and then pulled ahead, and as I saw my last hope drive off  I shouted, “FOLLOW THAT POTTY!”  And we did. 

I made it just in time.

Even teacher-bladders have their limit.

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

About a week back I shared on Me Ra Koh Photography my technique in capturing the first day of school photos.  What was great this year was that the pics turned out so well last year with my “fingers idea” that we all just jumped right into it!

Check it out!

My 9th grader (notice the 9 fingers — which is kinda hard to do, getting rid of that one rascally finger!!!):

Now for my 7th grader (7 fingers) on her first day of junior high.  She was nervous…

And then there is my 5th grader.  Who, well, just said “Photo the hand!”  Luckily a hand has 5 fingers.

Happy Back-To-School everyone!

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

Taken at Izzy’s (the victim) 6th grade graduation.  The hug enforcer is big sister Jade and little Ty looks on with delight.  I, of course, think this is the best picture ever.  Gotta love siblings.

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

 And this one, WTF? or Why the Face?

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

My secret to a good picture??? 

I have three friends that are professional photographers.

One friend is the mom of my son’s best buddy.  One is my neighbor and my dearest friend since I was 16.  And one is my graduate-school kindred spirit.

Yup. That is my secret.  It’s probably cheating.  Okay it IS cheating. But, if you don’t have a friend who is a professional photographer, you need to get one.  Like, right away.  Buy these folks coffee…. let them borrow your car….do whatever…. Because when you send your son on playdates you get pics like THIS:

By Jessica Nichols Photography

When you have a new baby you get pics like THIS from Auntie Sugar:

by Christiana Childers Photography

When they need last minute models for their workshops you get the phone call and then end up with pics like THIS:

by Erika from Me Ra Koh Confidence Workshop

I know.   I need to bake more and pay these women back, eh?

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

One VERY wet soccer player!

But Wednesday’s soccer game took the warning “Rain or Shine” to a whole new level.  Let’s just say NOAH would have been intimidated.  When I realized that the raindrops actually hurt as they fell, I had Dave call the assistant coach of the soccer team and ask if, perchance, this game would be, well… rained out.  Oh no, that doesn’t happen, he said.  And so off I went with a carload of 6th grade girls and Ty, who insisted that he loved the rain. 

Mud Puddles

What resulted was 90 of the wettest minutes of my life.  And I was on swim team.  The girls were soaked to the skin within 3 minutes — aka the walk from the car to the field.  The parents had various rain protection devices with them — aka, boots, umbrellas, and a stoic attitude.  Ty and I huddled under our newly purchases “sports-brella” which is a giant, oversized umbrella designed to sit on its side, like a cave.  Ty said to me, “If we had to live in this sports-brella, that would be so sad!”  Agreed. When Ty realized that staying dry was hopeless, he headed straight for the puddles.  Well, I thought, at least I don’t have to go to a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese.

The good news is that the players had a good time and that when we got home there were hot showers and chili dogs waiting for us.  Processed meat never tasted so good.

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

That same pirate is also a jedi, a superhero, a secret agent, and a paleontologist. 

Before Ty was born I knew that becoming a mom would be transformative.  I knew that in my head but I didn’t know it in my heart until I had this little baby in my arms and I knew… knew… I would never be the same. 

My mom describes motherhood like this.  When your child is born there is a rope (I am speaking metaphorically here… I would never advocate giving a rope to a newborn.)  The mommy holds most of the rope and the baby has a grip on just the fray at the end.  Slowly, slowly we start to hand over more of the rope to our kids — giving them more control, more say, more of themselves.  And, in turn, we get less control, less say, and less of them.  Until one day we see that they have the whole rope and we are gripping the fray at the end. 

The first time this was put to the test was when Ty was about  18 months old.  The older girls had been living with us for a few months and Ty chose Jade INSTEAD OF ME to read him his afternoon book. My first thought was to recoil and start reeling in that rope… but luckily I got ahold of myself.  There have also been times when Ty has tried to grab so much, no, TOO much of the rope for him to handle.  Like the time he was 2 years old and used a variety of household items — fire poker, stool, hanger — to try and break into Grandma’s car.  

Last week Ty turned five.  Before his birthday I thought I would be terribly depressed and blue at the thought of his turning five.  I thought I would have “rope burns” as a bit more of the rope was yanked through my hands.  Instead, I found myself willing handing it over with a quiet peace of mind that although my boy was growing up, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be and so was I.

I teased him by saying, “When you turn five, will you still hug me?”  “Yes!” he said.  “Will you still wanna cuddle?”  “Yes!” he yelled. “Will you still climb into bed with me when you have a bad dream?”  “Yes, MOMMY,” he said, “I will always hug you and kiss you and wanna sleep with you and cuddle you and love you and give you MARATHON kisses!”  And, I know that all of this is not exactly the truth. He will, afterall, go on to love other people — his wife, his kids, his grandkids. And I will almost for sure be the overbearing mother in law that makes everyone’s eyes roll.  Showing up with my color coded calendar of activities and still licking my finger to wipe a smudge off of his cheek.  But, I do know that my love for him is a gift.  That NO ONE will ever love HIM like I do.  No one.  Because no one loves you like your mom.  And, I get to be “mom.”  And that is a good thing.

So, avast the sails, me hearties.  May the force be with you.  Up, up and away.  Get out your decorder ring. Dig up some T-rex bones.  And have a very Happy Mother’s Day!

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

This time, I put some restrictions on their photos.  I told them they could each take only ten pictures.  I wanted to focus their eye — so instead of just random, scatter-shots, the kids would really think about what they wanted to document and preserve.

I think you will be pleased with the results. Here are some samples:

First up, Lily (10).

White Shell

"Destroyed" Crab in Pirate Fort (actually, its plastic)

Next is Izzy (12):

Shoes, Sand, and Seaweed

Self Portrait

Next up, Jade — our resident teenager (14):

Sunset over the Saratoga Passage

Sister at Sunset (sounds like a Magic Treehouse book!)

I’m actually really impressed with Jade’s photos.  Due to a fluke, she ended up shooting her photos on “Aperture Priority.”  Which means, the photographer sets the aperture or F-stop (or controls the BLUR in the background) and the camera will select the shutter speed.  It’s not terribly advanced, but it is a step up from shooing on automatic.  Here’s another one:

Garden Outside Bunkhouse (where the TV fell on her).

And last, Ty (4).  Okay, so he was in a hurry that morning.

Jade's Leg and Back Patio Tile

What was the most fascinating for me was that each child took a completely unique set of pictures!  So, I ended up with 40 pictures of our little vacation spot and I got to do THIS while they “Slaved Away”:

Picture by Grandma Bloo.  Don’t you just LOVE my flirtatious pose?

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

But, I will say, that a good vacation is still something that I look forward to.  Even though with a baby it still means diapers and sleep issues, I find that dealing with those things without “life” is a welcome change. This spring break we went to a place that caters to hermits and recluses like me.  Whidbey Island and our new found vacation home is only about 90 minutes door-to-door from our home.  The part of the island we visited was near Langley and it is a sleepy little village town. Here is city hall:

Langley City Hall

It makes me want to move there!

We found a grocery store that mostly sold milk in glass bottles… from a DAIRY! Luckily we were able to find some in plastic jugs, so we were good.

We always hit up the local bookstore.  There is nothing quite like a small island bookstore:

Here is where Dave and I talked about major life decisions (notice beach in background):

And here is the pirate fort on the beach:

This is the kind of place where the kids walk outside and play for hours.  This is the kind of place where you actually have to watch where you step because of how many shells are littered on the beach. We say gray whales, herons, and bald eagles.  We cannot wait to go back!

©2010 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.