Musings from Janette

Number of times my daughter escalated into an uber tantrum because she wanted to wear her red and white mary janes to bed: 1.

Number of meals I ate today: 4 (plus a dessert of trail mix - yes, the bad kind with chocolate in it).

Number of online shopping carts I have open with stuff I don't need:  5.

Number of dollars it took to fill up my non-environmentally-friendly SUV: 70.

Number of plants visibly wilting in my backyard due to unseasonably warm weather: at least 10.

Number of times I missed my husband who gets back tomorrow from a business trip: Countless.

I've been itching to take a tropical vacation, and through the joy of airline miles and some generous friends who were willing to share their condo with us, plans fell into place miraculously.

My primary goal in Kauai (other than spending some fun, quality time with my family) was to relax.  I’m happy to report, I succeeded.

I suppose though, the beaches had something to do with it.

And the swaying palm trees.

Relaxing palms

Six palm shadow

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As well as some other stunning vistas.

Na Pali Coast

Kilauea Lighthouse

Highway on the north side

Sculpture on the grounds of the Marriott

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Ono Char Burger

Seriously awesome burger

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Pork tenderloin

I didn't expect the ubiquitous number of chickens and roosters on the island.  They populate the island due to Hurricane Iniki in 1992.  Apparently, the hurricane not only wasted the economy, a handful of domestic chickens escaped, fled civilization, procreated like mad, and became "wild".  Also, since Kauai does not have natural predators such as the mongoose (which the other islands do), the chickens have populated like mad on the island.  I saw them wandering around the condo, at scenic destinations, and even wandering around the burger shack.
 

Rooster

With such rich soil, it's no wonder everything is so green and flowering.  The plumeria trees are everywhere.  Not only are they gorgeous flowers, they smell divine.

White plumeria

Quite amazingly, my seasonal allergies were non-existent on Kauai.  Apparently I'm not allergic to any of the flora on the island.  This would be a strong argument to move there!

And finally, the sunset.

Sunset palms

I had a conversation with our auto insurance agent last week that went something like this....

Insurance Agent - So, you still work for Company X, correct?
Me - No, I don't work there anymore.  I'm home with my daughter.
Insurance Agent - So, you're a Homemaker.
Me - Well, I also work part-time, and will probably go back to school, but yes, I suppose that's technically what I am.

Why is it that I couldn't just own up to the fact that my primary occupation currently is to manage the home?  Why does the word Homemaker conjure up images like this ?

Housework rules!

....which, I can assure you looks nothing like me as I've forsaken dry-clean-only fabrics and most forms of make-up in favor of cotton t-shirts and a beauty regime that mainly consists of pulling my hair into a ponytail. 

I believe we need to come up with another title entirely for Homemaker.  I'd prefer to be called Woman with a Thousand Roles or House Goddess.  And if you could see my kitchen floor - which I swear I just swept yesterday - you would NOT want to eat off it, thus, my title of Maker of the Home doesn't make a whole lot of sense.  Or perhaps that just makes me a Bad Homemaker?

P.S. I don't iron.

I was tagged by the lovely Tamzen.

Here are the rules:
1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged, write a blog post about their own 8 random things, and post these rules.
3. At the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment on their blog and tell them they’ve been tagged, and to come back and read your blog for the whole story

1) I absolutely do not allow anyone to tickle me (except for my daughter).  My husband has learned the hard way that I instinctively kick/knee/elbow in the face when a tickle attempt is made.

2) I have one brother who is 14 years older, so we both had only childhoods, though obviously still share our parents.  I like to look at it as a best of both worlds scenario, though growing up I did wish for a sibling closer in age.

3) I've always had a fairly mellow temperament, so I don't get angry very quickly.   However, when I do in fact lose my temper, you really don't want to be the object of my wrath.

4) My first job out of college was Assistant to a Producer for an independent film.  I only had to fetch coffee once, and never had to pick up his dry cleaning, though I did have to find out the total on his phone bill by calling Verizon and pretending to be his live-in girlfriend several times.  I do believe he had a drug habit as he would be suspiciously energetic and cheerful, then on other occasions would say he had a migraine and sleep on the couch in his office most of the afternoon.

5) My most enduring dream is to see at least one novel written by me on the bookshelves at Borders/Barnes & Noble.

6) I spent most of my twenties single, wandering (literally lived in several different cities/towns), and fairly certain I would never get married, have children, and/or live in suburbia and drive a minivan.  So far, I don't have a minivan, but if I end up having more kids it may end up happening (gasp).

7)  When I'm in a city I love exploring their mass transit system (especially subways) even if it seems dirty, sketchy, or otherwise undesirable.

8) I taught myself how to ride a bike when I was 18.  I never learned when I was a kid, and found myself at a University that had a sprawling campus.  I wanted to live off-campus my sophomore year so it was either 20 minutes to walk to class or 5-10 minutes by bike.  The idea of sleeping-in outweighed the fear.  I learned by pushing myself off the curb down a hilly cul-de-sac.  I surprisingly did not sustain any major injuries and mostly learned how to ride a bike.

I tag anyone who loosely shares any of the 8 random facts/habits in common.

What have you lost that you wish you still had?
Submitted by gunderson bee.

Funny you should ask.

In life, we all experience loss, and fairly often.  We lose our keys.  We lose our place in the line at the grocery store when we remember that we forgot the milk.  We lose a phone number jotted on a scrap of paper.  Sometimes we even lose our minds (usually temporarily, but sometimes indefinitely).

But, it’s the profound losses – the death of a loved one, the loss of a job or relationship or home, that sideline us from daily life, but ultimately can wrench us out of a rut and force us to really examine our lives with new eyes.  As John Lennon said, "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans."

I’ve recently experienced profound loss and found the most comfort from those who have also experienced deep loss, or those that simply reached out to say they’re thinking about me.  I’ve also learned not to take it personally if someone doesn’t acknowledge my loss at all.  It can be overwhelming trying to find the right words sometimes.   

I read an insightful statement on loss and grieving recently, “…you will see that you never really had, in the way that you thought, that person or item you were mourning.  And you will see that you will always have them in other ways.” The first time I read that, I cried.  The second time I read it, which was aloud to my husband, I cried again.  Today, when I read it, I felt at peace in it's truth.

So, I suppose I'm not going to answer this question directly because I don't even feel it's important who/what I actually lost.  I think we've all lost things/people/places/moments/feelings that we wish we still had.  What's most important is how we proceed after our loss, and that is the journey.

A humorous book on motherhood?  Yes, please.  After all, even though “it’s the hardest job you’ll ever love”, if we all took motherhood too seriously we would literally tear our hair out, or take the first flight out of town.  I’ve seen far too many new mothers hunt for the elusive ideal of motherhood, wherein you ALWAYS feed your child something healthy, NEVER let them watch TV, and OTHERWISE beat your sleep-deprived psyche to a bloody pulp. 

Naptime Is the New Happy Hour: And Other Ways Toddlers Turn Your Life Upside Down

Stefanie Wilder-Taylor

Stefanie Wilder-Taylor’s follow-up to Sippy Cups Are Not for Chardonnay, is Naptime is the New Happy Hour – a funny, honest collection of scenes with a toddler.  She covers the joys of potty training, choosing a preschool, tantrums, and dealing with those Smug Moms you just want to punch. 

Wilder-Taylor is unapologetic about her toddler’s TV habit and cookie consumption, and honestly dishes about her mixed feelings on suburbia.  Her book was easy to read, possibly because she’s written down thoughts that I’ve had in my head, but not uttered out loud (or only to close friends), reaffirming that while I love my child completely, I’m not a “bad mother” for occasionally setting my child in front of the TV so I can take a shower or catch up on reading blogs (oops, did I just admit that?).

Her account of flying with her toddler and hating her a little afterwards hit a little close to home, and her chapter on stay-at-home versus work-outside-of-the-home was honest and quite comforting.

She is a little heavy on the joke of medicating herself, with heavy doses of sarcasm, which made me feel occasionally like I was reading the literary equivalent of stand-up comedy, but looking aside that one aspect, I found myself reading it whenever I had little pockets of time. 

In the end, life with a toddler is frustrating, rewarding, and quite frequently funny, if you choose to see it that way.  Naptime is the new Happy Hour definitely captures those funny moments, and in easily digestible bites.

My daughter, like most two-year-olds loves the playground.  Between the slides, the swings, and sand, what’s not to like?  Personally, I hate them.  I can tolerate them, perhaps even enjoy a little if I’m meeting a friend and her offspring, but on the regular occasions where I'm there with only my daughter in tow, I start to feel disenchanted and fish-out-of-water like Sarah from Little Children.

I will admit that I go to the playground secretly hoping.  There is a distant, however possible shot, I’ll meet a fellow mom I can genuinely connect with and befriend.  Playgrounds are after all the stay-at-home-mom bar scene.  But, one of the major obstacles to achieving this is that I’m shy.  I’ve adapted in certain settings, such as dinner parties and the traditional workplace, but something about the playground puts me back to the age where I can make eye contact and smile, but freeze up when attempting conversation.  Back in the day, I also sucked at dating, though at least in the bars I could swig a rum and coke to help my social skills.  This same behavior might be seen as possibly irresponsible, and of course illegal with children present.

Today, my daughter, who thankfully isn’t stunted in the social department and probably won’t be later thanks to my husband, befriended a fellow multicultural kidlet.  He had blond-ish dreadlocks and I learned by eavesdropping that his “flavor of swirl” is German and Jamaican.  An unassuming, though lovely woman, quietly spoke a mixture of German and English to him, and encouraged him to share the dump truck and other sand toys with my daughter.  I really wanted to converse with her (other than murmuring thank you).  But, did I?  No.  Instead I let another woman who wasn’t horribly annoying, but slightly interrogating, ask her a slew of questions.  And feeling like a teenager whose afraid of rejection, I quietly sat on the edge of the sandbox and stared off into space.

I’m not sure how to break out of the shell of shyness.  But, I really think that this is one of the only routes where I’ll meet comrades these days.

There was a time when I was on the hunt for a playgroup.  The need for social interaction about a year ago was so intense that I swallowed any inherent timidity and joined a parent organization that has affiliated playgroups.  My first shot was a group of women that seemed relatively engaging and supportive, until the subject of breastfeeding came up.  I was at that point still nursing my daughter at least a few times a day.  The consensus in the group was that nursing was somehow strange and deviant after 12 months.  They couldn’t put their finger on why, but they just thought it was “wrong”.  Next up was the subject of Gerber’s First Meats, wherein they discussed the merits of reconstituted sticks of chicken and beef that came in handy jars.  If there are varying degrees of “natural” and hippy-dom, I was practically a barefoot, commune-living, tie-dyer compared to these ladies.  Needless to state, I never saw them again.

My second experience was quite different.  I drove up to a palatial estate about 20 minutes from my home in an upscale neighborhood.  The hostess was warm and genuine, so I could momentarily overlook the amazing view from the second floor, the authentic Dr.Seuss artwork hanging on the playroom walls, and the fact that her housekeeper had answered the door.  But, when the other women showed up that same feeling of “Toto, I’m not in Kansas anymore” hit me like bricks.  Apparently, one of the women was on the hunt for more furniture, and Pottery Barn Kids was not good enough.  They also decided that for playgroup they would have “spa day” where they would hire manicurists and masseuses to come in.  My family has actually been affected by the shift from two incomes to one, so the idea of spa day with a bunch of women who drove Land Rovers and X5’s just sounded insane.  Needless to state, I never saw them again.

Why is it so hard to befriend women who are like-minded and in similar situations?

I watched Enchanted last night.  At first I was rolling my eyes, but once I reminded myself it was a Disney PG flick, I suspended any sense of reality and felt entertained. In fact I think the only way I would have enjoyed it more is if I magically transported back into my pre-teen self. Luckily I saw it on my own, which saved my husband the water-torture-agony he surely would have felt by viewing it.  This movie definitely does not produce testosterone.

So, here's an important question: Is it scary that I kind of want to own one of these?

Too bad he's plastic

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I used to think of Seattle as the home of grunge rock, the epicenter of coffee-drinking, and the perpetually rainy, tree festooned slice of Pacific Northwest.  It's still all of those things, but I'll amend the statement to now add mouth-watering culinary destination.

Pike Place at dusk

Ever since last April, I've been dying to head back to Pike Place Market.  Even calling it the Mother of all Farmer's Markets doesn't really do justice.  It's a magical place with every imaginable cuisine, fresh produce, flowers, and yes flying fish are packed into a city block.  There's also a lot of interesting handmade items for sale, and truly you could spend a whole day meandering the floors, taking in all of the sights, sounds, and smells.  Outside of the main building, there are three shops we had to make stops at. 

Beecher's Cheese

The first was Beecher's Cheese.  We are a family of serious cheese eaters, so there was no way we were going to miss it.  Their cheeses are fabulous, though my personal favorite is the fresh cheese curds.  They're known as "squeeky cheese" because of the sound they make on your teeth as you eat them.  They are quite addictive and easy to eat on the go.

Piroshky Piroshky

Our next stop was Piroshky, Piroshky, another destination I had been dreaming about since our last visit.  It doesn't look like much from the outside, and there really isn't much in the way of a seating area, but they have divine Russian pastries, both savory and sweet.  I went with the potato, onion, and cheese this go around, and there are no photos because I seriously devoured it that quick.

Flagship Starbucks

Finally, we stopped at the original Starbucks, which still sports the original, racy logo. The atmosphere there seems different than the neighborhood Starbucks' across the country who are ubiquitously cannibalizing themselves.  The Flagship Starbucks seems more distinct, less casual, and certainly less cookie-cutter.  Kind of interesting to see where the chain started and what the original vision was.







Since Monday looked like this:

Seattle rain

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We headed to the Aquarium.  It was larger than our neighborhood Aquarium, and the most impressive part was the room with the floor to ceiling tank.

Seattle Aquarium

Staring at fish like this does something on a physiological level.  I think it really does lower your blood pressure.  We spent quite a bit of time in that room taking it all in. 

Afterwards we went to Trophy Cupcakes, and had a snack:

Trophy Cupcakes

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Shown: Triple Chocolate, Red Velvet, and mini Vanilla chocolate.  These were of course devoured within moments.

Quite miraculously, we only had that one day of rain.  The rest of the week was sunny and warm, so we took advantage and went to the Space Needle. 

The Space Needle

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Here is one of the views from the 520 ft observation deck:

View from Space Needle

On the way back from breakfast one of the mornings we happened upon a coffee place that caught my eye:

Voxx Coffee

Someone should tell them they misspelled Vox ;)

Perhaps one of my favorite eating stops was Salumi.  It's a tiny "sandwich shop" that's only open Tues-Fri 11a-4p, but the claim to fame is that it's owned by Mario Batali's father.  I wasn't sure it would live up to the hype, but I was not disappointed after waiting in a line for about 45 minutes, then cramming "family style" in the backroom with a bunch of people I didn't know. 

Lunch at Salumi's

One of the sandwiches has mole salami, and the other is the Salumi Salami, both with fresh pressed mozzarella.  There's also a cheese plate on the right and a rather tasty Lasagna in the center.  We didn't quite finish all of it, but we certainly tried.  The specialty is clearly dry cured meats.  Here's what we walked past during our long wait to the counter:

Salumi meats

I unfortunately didn't have my camera handy on our last eating spot of the trip.  We hit Belle Epicurean, a french bakery on the way to the airport, and they had the tastiest brioche I've ever experienced.  Here's a photo from their website:

Berry Brioche

We had a citrus brioche, vanilla brioche, pain au chocolate, and Ham and Gruyere brioche.  The woman at the counter looked at us and said, "Are you sure you don't want some of this to go?".  My husband didn't hesitate in saying, "No, we'll be eating it all now."

I suppose this post is concrete proof that I ate my way through Seattle.  And it was worth every calorie.

As any hardcore Jane Austen fan will tell you, the original BBC mini-series of Pride and Prejudice, though lengthy, far succeeds the new version with Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennett.  Why?  Duh, Colin Firth (Lambchops never looked hotter) as Mr.Darcy, and because it's not abridged.  More time to let Miss Bennett and Mr.Darcy simmer away.

So, I was very excited this afternoon to have received both Disc 1 and Disc 2 from Blockbuster movies (having recently switched from Netflix for reasons too lengthy to go into).  So, after watching Disc 1, imagine my utter dismay when I opened Disc 2's envelope and found Love, Actually, instead of P&P Part II. 

Nothing against Love, Actually (I own this film coincidentally), but this means I must wait another day or two before finishing Pride and Prejudice.  Nevermind that I have read the novel, seen the remake, and know how it ends.  I'd just like to get back to swooning over the original Mr.Darcy please.  Thanks.