Hollywood Dreams

My daughter, Felicia really enjoys wearing her sunglasses. I buy her a pair about every two weeks for she somehow finds a way to take them apart over time. I make sure that Felicia has a pair at her disposal knowing that the more she wears them in the bright sunshine, the more likely it to be for her eyesight to be protected.

She wears her sunglasses during the most interesting activities. You can often see Felicia wearing her sunglasses at the dinner table, while riding in the car (just like mommy), in the grocery store, in the rain, coloring, reading a book and last night she decided to wear them in the bath. At least I know they are now clean.

Around town Felicia is know as "Hollywood" when she is seen sporting her trendy sun deflecting specs. She always smiles although I don't think she knows we are giving her a "handle" but I believe she really likes the sound of the word "Hollywood." Maybe it is just the way we say it.

I check on the kids and give them a quick kiss just before I head to bed. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at what I found in Felicia's room:


Lucky for me the sunglasses dimmed the flash from the camera and my little angel didn't wake.

Bob, Boats and Deer

It must be told that my son, who is 3 yrs and 10 months old, will no longer accept being called 3, 3 1/2 nor 3 3/4. When I pushed the math I was told this, " I was 3 one years ago, Mama. Now I am just almost 4." Nothing else is acceptable in his world. So, until July, I have a 2 yr old daughter and an almost 4 yr old son. I told my algebra teacher in high school that math was not fact, it was relative (I hated math) and now this is simple proof that I was right. Everything is relative.

A few days ago I was reading the paper and found that our legislatures here in Oregon were on their way to making a bad decision. Well, as we all know, a lot of our officials everywhere are making bad decisions but I digress....

Anyway, I felt obligated to write a rather long and nasty letter to my friends in Salem. To allow me the time and freedom to accomplish this my helpful husband took the kids out to the back yard to play.

I was just finishing up with my letter when my sweet Kenny ran (physically) through the screen door (if you have kids you know screens are just no match for the determination of a child's desire to enter or exit quickly). He was speaking about 700 words a minute and I, being focused on other things only caught a few words. They were, "Mama"..."Bob the builder"..."Boat"... "Deer"..."Ok?"... "Bye Mama." Like a flash, Kenny flew right back out the hole in the screen and was gone from sight. I looked up at my husband, who was cursing under his breath about the screen door. He shrugged.

I did a quick "mom evaluation." I peeked into the backyard. No one was bleeding, crying or dying so things must be alright. I went back to my letter. Not three minutes (almost four?) went by when the scene replayed itself. This time I caught even fewer words than before!

Instead of running back out Kenny finished his speech and stood waiting for a reply. My husband slowly walked in and told me he could now clarify what the excitement was all about.

Apparently, Kenny's boat is broken. It has a square bottom and boats have round bottoms. I, Mama, must call Bob the Builder to repair his boat so he can sail over the green "ocean" to get to the deer by the trees so he can catch one. Bob will not be allowed to sail the boat but he can mop the slide because only Kenny can be the captain. I am then supposed to make skettie for everyone because Bob is going to be hungry after all that work. I have to make a bigger salad because deer only eat green stuff and the deer he catches will be hungry.

Here is a little further explanation. This photo is of the "boat"(now residing in the backyard) that Santa Claus brought for the children almost two years ago for Christmas. It is a "boat" because it has a wheel and a "poothole" (porthole). We live on about three acres of land below a mountain of BLM forest. We see deer and wild turkeys daily who come down to the prairie grass for meals. The tree line has been of extreme interest to Kenny since the first winter we lived here partly because he never saw so many trees in Nv and partly because these trees "talk" when it gets windy. The green "ocean" is the expanse of prairie grass between the house and the tree line.

On with our dramatic story.

I told Kenny that I didn't know Bob personally. He thought about this for a bit and told me to call Papa. "Papa is friends with Bob because Papa has a boat and lots of tools to build 8 houses." Hmm. Can't ignore the logic! My dad restores old boats and is a contractor. There is no getting out of this one.

So we call Papa. I quickly let my dad know about the story so that he will have an easier time understanding the "almost 4 year old" vocabulary. Kenny and Papa have a 20 minute conversation over the phone about Bob, boats, deer and the like. I do not know all of what my dad said, but my son seemed more excited than ever. He said, "Ok Papa, Bye!" and flew back out the door. I picked the phone from the floor and asked if dad was ok. He giggled and told me that I must be a great mom to raise such and imaginative, smart little guy. I thanked him. We chatted a few minutes about his latest restoration project and said our "goodbyes."

For the next hour or two Kenny could be heard singing the "Bob the Builder" theme song over and over again. While I was making dinner he came in to tell me that Papa couldn't bring Bob over for a few weeks so I have to "hold off to the skettie" until then. I agreed since I was making chicken. I must say Thank God I wasn't making skettie for I believe it would have caused a social disaster in the eyes of my son. He gave me a hug and started singing as he headed back outside.

We haven't cut the prairie grass down yet this year. When the wind breezes through, the green waves it creates are beautiful. I can actually sit here and see exactly how that "boat" would look sailing across the green "ocean" in search of unsuspecting deer, captained by a strong, blond, blue-eyed and determined young boy who is so full of spirit and life. I hope that I am sailing with him when he shoves off in his dreams. I have no problem "mopping the slide" or doing any other deck hand job. I would simply be awestruck to be blessed at the chance of being in such company.

From Here

My favorite authors would publish a book and after reading it, I would salivate with desire to devour their next tale. The wait always seemed too long. Years for a few. It drove me crazy!

I have a new respect for those writers. It has taken me about 6 months to weed out and then write up these memories. They are just that...memories. I didn't have to dream up plots or characters (well, the kids are characters but that is pure personality.) Nor did I have to wait for an editor to make sure that I was accurate and proper in my depiction. It has been fun.

Now, do not think that I am done. I think from here I need to keep going. From here it will be a bit more "up to date" but the heart of this blog will still be how my children renew my hope, foster my passion and continue to inspire me on a daily (ok, maybe weekly) basis.

Kenny is almost four years old and the things that pop from his sweet brain just amaze me. He inspires me with a smile. He teaches me a lot about who I am, where I am, where I want to be and what the world around me truly means in my life. Felicia reminds me that I am a woman with concerns and ideas. She makes me feel pretty just by grabbing my cheeks and turning my head (forcibly sometimes) to plant a sloppy wet kiss on my nose. She is only 2! Crazy huh? Yep, just nutso Paula feeling philosophical and goofy.

I hope that maybe my nutso insight will help others appreciate some of those little things about their own children they may miss out on...or even remind you all of how your little ones made you smile last week, last month....5 years ago.

This all started out as a way for me to remember and never forget how blessed I am. It will continue in the same spirit. Yep, I am getting mushy. So...I hope you all keep reading. It is going to be fun. I love your comments. Keep em coming.

We're Here!

Here we are!! In Oregon!

We moved my sweet little family of four into the small spare room at my parent's house. Jason had to drive almost an hour to work but it was a beautiful drive.

If you ever moved back in with your parents after living on your own you can relate to the difficulty this presents. It wasn't bad, just crowded. My kids were not used to being in a house full of people. In fact, we rarely got visitors in Nv. Kenny seemed to believe that we were going to go home after a week. It was fun, busy and honestly it made my heart swell to see my kids actually get some "interaction" time with my family as well as their cousins.

Three weeks later we received the reimbursement for the move and I started making the drive into Roseburg to find a rental. My sister, all the kids and I made the trek several times. I had gotten used to living a more rural life. Our house in NV was in a neighborhood, but stood on over half an acre. I couldn't live in an apartment. Not that I am against all that but I tried that for six months years before and all I can say is "Hell NO, Never again!"

We checked out houses and explored the little towns surrounding Roseburg. I didn't ever see that place that just jumped out and said "live here." A few days later I was poking around online and found an ad for a house. It sounded good. My sister called and got directions. We headed down hwy 42 the next day.

We got lost. We called again and finally found our way to the house. It is nestled on a three acre plot of prairie grass, set back from the road. The two homes on either side of the property are mobile homes and they are right on the road so we didn't see it on our first pass. Pulling into the driveway my sister and I argued. "There is no way this is it!" I said. "The address matches and the directions are right, I am not an idiot," she said. The house looked brand new! How the hell can this house on this lot be only 900/mo in rent??!!?? She told me, "It is meant to be!! You moved back to Oregon and found this great rental house, just let it be!"

I figured it must be trashed inside. I was wrong. We met with the tenant who was moving out and learned that the house was built only four years ago!! It has a "tract" home layout, not really a dream house, but it has three bedrooms, TWO bathrooms (omg TWO bathrooms!!!!!!!!!) a large living room and tons and tons and tons and tons of land to do with what we want!! My brain kicked in gear. I called Jason and gave him the address. I started to make a mental list, need to put up a little fenced area for the kids to play, but other than that the kids can PLAY OUTSIDE!! Inside, I would need some curtains, may have trouble getting the old couch through the door....crap, there is a perfect place for a Christmas tree!! I honestly couldn't find a darn thing wrong with the house.

Jason called me back a few minutes later. My sister, the kids and I were walking around checking things out. He told me that according to the mapqwest thingie online it would only take him about 12 minutes to get to work!! HOLY COW! He would just have to get on the little country hwy, make two turns and he was at work!! I looked at my sister. "This has to be mine." She giggled and handed me the paper with the contact number. I called the lady and found she is the niece of the owner, who lives in Utah. I told her I want it. I told her I could hand her the money today. She said it would be at least another week or two before it was ready. Fine with me! We set a date to meet when Jason could be there.

We met, filled out paperwork and I handed her a check for the deposits and such. It was ours.

We moved in a week later and set up our family. It took a while for the kids to get used to the idea. They had been moved around a lot over the last two months.

45 minutes to my parent's house. Less than 15 minutes to Jason's work. A forest behind the house and a farm across the street. This is perfect.

Now, unpack.

Meant to be...or Coincidence?

We are on our way home.

We headed out hwy 42 and through Winston/Roseburg to get to I-5. I loved this part of Oregon. Small, mountainous cities woven around a beautiful river. No huge metro areas. No confusing "downtown" districts. Just ranchers on one side and business on the other. Slow paced. Clean. Nice. The drive down I-5 was fine. Our conversations during our travels ebbed in and out of moving discussions to what we need to do for the house this summer. Nothing serious. Nothing concrete. I had pretty much made up my mind still, I was nervous about making it known. I was concerned that Jason may really have his heart secretly set on moving back to Alaska. I wanted our plans to stem from debate from the heart, not what we hoped would make the other happiest.

As we drove down the mountain into Susanville, heading for 395, the last little hwy on our journey home, we slammed into a wall of smoke from the wildfires. We stopped in town for an ice cream and a walk but a quiet place was hard to find since most of the town was taken over by emergency vehicles and personnel prepping to go back to the fires. 2007 was a bad year for fires. Ca, Nv and OR were hit with one lightning storm after another. It was scary and I am saddened that so many people and animals were affected, but I do believe it is nature's way of doing what needs to be done. After our short stop we crammed back into the truck and I kicked the a/c into high and recycled the air in the cab to keep our lungs as safe as possible.

A couple hours down the road we pulled into Reno. It too was covered in haze. I felt cheated. During the very cold winters we are forced inside and now during the hot summers (fire or no fire) we are forced inside. My little family doesn't do well in the heat. I longed for the humid and green Sacramento Valley where I grew up. I longed even more for the clean, fresh, salty breeze on the Oregon coast. Yes, I was torturing myself. Even if we were to move it was at least a couple years out. Find a job, sell the house....blah blah blah. I needed to get my head back in the game. Get home, prep the swamp cooler, re-establish the kids' routines, laundry etc.

We drove past Jason's office in Carson City about 30 minutes from our house. Jason got this grimaced look on his face. I asked him what his problem was. He recanted what was going on at work and how frustrated he was being so limited. He had skills they didn't want to use and he was concerned that his supervisor was holding him down on purpose. I asked him why he thought this. He told me that his supervisor got chewed out because they audited the system and found that a lot of the original programs written by the supervisor had to be fixed, Jason was the one who did the fixing and being a mild guy he never made a stink about it. So, the "upper ups" figured that the supervisor was using his "team" to cover his ass. Since then Jason's supervisor was making things hard. Keeping track of personal conversation times ( no longer than 10 minutes a day allowed to talk to family or co-workers about non-work things), keeping a timer on breaks and lunch hours. I guess he even went so far as to write Jason up because I called him when I was worried that Felicia was really sick. The write up was thrown out when Jason protested, but it seemed things were getting really stressful for him.

This was odd to me. He loves being a nerd. I mean really LOVES it!! There are few of us who get the chance to be employed/paid for doing what we would do as a hobby. I have always been awed by the fact Jason was that lucky. Lately he was coming home grumpy and rarely talked about work. Now I knew why.

We were home for a few days, getting back to our routine when Jason found a few minutes to himself to go online. He searched newspapers in the coastal area of Oregon and then searched the papers for the smaller towns inland. He didn't find much of a market for nerds of his "caliber" so he asked me if I would live in the Eugene/Springfield area. I sighed. "Sure, it is two hours from my parents and from the nearest beach, the people seem to follow a "hippie" like politic but we could live on the edge of town if it doesn't make a huge commute for you." He giggled. It isn't that I am against "hugging" trees or recycling my trash, but my experience with the population of that area is that their politics take over their common sense and they get to be a bit wacky. There is (in my opinion) people out there that are "too green" and they seem to do more harm than good, not to mention they contradict themselves over and over again. Off the soap box, Paula.

So Jason did a search of the newspapers in Eugene and Springfield. Hit! The job looked good. Jason not only qualified, but it required stuff he really enjoyed and was held from at his current job. Great!! Jason read down the ad......Problem. It was a job through one of those "head hunter" typed places. He started to whine, "They make you jump through stupid hoops before you even find out where the job is or who it is with. Then you have to..." I stopped listening. My blood heated up and (I am sorry to say) the "feisty"side of me took over. I ranted something close to this, "It is like the 10th of July and my kids can't go outside because it is too hot and too smokey. We live like prisoners under the air conditioner in the summer and the heater in the winter...How the hell can you WHINE about jumping through a few stupid hoops to get a job that just a half second ago you were drooling over? What kind of wimpy moron are you? Did you not see how BEAUTIFULLY HAPPY WE ALL WERE on the beach? Get your damn priorities straight!!" I am sure there was more vulgarity and I am positive that my rant lasted at least five minutes. Needless to say, when I stopped to breathe and compose myself, my husband looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Can I blame PMS?

That night he started the application process. He had me check his cover letter and other things and we emailed it off the next morning. The next day the "head hunter" chick called. She talked to Jason for about an hour! After the call I asked him how it went. He grinned. "The job sounds great. She is forwarding my application and resume to the personnel dept. She suspects they will call me within a week. She said that it is a large company with offices all over, but the main office is in a smaller town and they have a hard time finding qualified professionals who want to work in a small town. She spent a lot of time asking me questions about our family. What environment we liked to live in and so on. Most of those who have left said they prefer the faster pace of Portland or Seattle because there is nothing to do in a small town." He looked smug. I warily asked him where it was. "The job is programming for Roseburg Forest Products in Winston/Dillard, Oregon." He grinned triumphantly. I screamed, "HOLY COW ON A STICK!! SHIT! NO WAY! You better NOT BE LYING!!" He assured me that he was being honest. ( Yes I remember the "cow stick" thing because he still teases me about it two years later.) This is too good to be true. We just drove through there like three or four days ago!! This is crazy. Insane!! I told him how much I have always loved that area. How I used to wonder how nice it would be to live there whenever I drove from Portland to my parents house. He simply grinned.

It wasn't long before Jason got called for an all day interview. He drove to Oregon. I stayed home. I was jealous but I knew if I went with him I would never leave. Two weeks or so after he got home we received a letter of intent to hire. They offered him a little more than what he was making in Nv. (With OR income taxes so high it worked out to be just about even). They offered a moving expense of $5,000. They wanted him to start work on Aug 27th. It was already Aug 2nd.

I called my mom and sister. I found boxes. I started packing! My mom and sister drove down to help us out. Mom is a school bus driver so I figured I would leave her with the task of driving that stupid unwieldy U-Haul. We found a renter for our Nv house. We crammed our lives into a box truck, my truck, Jason's truck and my houseplants into mom's car. The caravan headed out. We were on our way to Oregon!!!!