Belly and The Bug

Rocky Raccoon

A large raccoon lives in our neighborhood. I found this out before we even moved in. Jonas and Judy spent a night here in our sun room during Bri's graduation weekend and they told me they saw it in the yard. Then Dude saw it in the tree shortly after we moved in. It's a big sucker. THEN we heard it one night in the kiddie pool having a grand time with the tupperware the girls had left in there. But today a line has been crossed. The little bastard was playing in the kiddie pool first thing this morning in broad daylight. Dude had to chase it away with a stick. Aren't they supposed to be nocturnal? WTF? Rocky wasn't too cool about being removed from his fun new play space either. He was a little aggressive toward Dude. All of this = NOT COOL.

I called Multnomah County Animal Services and they told me to call the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife. Which I did. And I was told that not only do they not deal with stuff like this, but there isn't an agency that does. She suggested that I trap the raccoon myself and find someone to euthanize it. And what they will do to help is issue me a permit to do the trapping. Um, okaaaaaay. That's not happening. Does one post an ad on Craigslist to find someone to euthanize a raccoon?

For the love of all things holy. Belly is standing on one side of my chair and the Bug just came up to the other. They are pooping AT THE SAME TIME. Ugh. Twins. I've gotta go...

Hi. I've missed you.

The Heat Miser has been having some fun with Portland this week. We've had record-setting temps for the last few days - 103, 106, 106 again. All of this equals, well...pure hell. You see, most houses (including ours) and many, many businesses do not have air conditioning because it's not usually necessary except for a few days each year. To make matters worse, I am VERY VERY whiney in extremes of hot and cold. I become incredibly lethargic and am hard-pressed to get anything accomplished - like getting dressed, eating, etc. I have had to suck it up, though, because of these little girls and we have been incredibly focused on staying cool. I even organized a trip to the coast with several other moms and kids day before yesterday. When all else failed, we hung out in the family room, which is our finished basement, because it was only in the 80s down there. Dude has been working at coffee shops all week to find some reprieve from the heat. Our main floor has been hitting 100 degrees mid-afternoon and upstairs (where you can find Dude's office and our bedrooms) has been easily 110. I wish this was an exaggeration. We've all been sleeping in the family room and first thing every morning, I've been getting everything we need for the day from upstairs.

This is my long explanation as to why I haven't been blogging. I've been too hot. Seriously. That's it. There's not a table in the family room upon which to put my laptop and it's simply been too hot to have it on my lap. Then, this morning, it wasn't so hot. I checked the forecast, even though I'd last checked it last night about 11pm AND IT HAD BEEN CHANGED! Instead of a high of 100, it's 94. YESSSSSS! So here I am. And there you are. Hi. How are you? I like your shirt.

It took us FOREVER to get home from Wisconsin. We ended up sitting in the Minneapolis airport for three hours before they put us on the plane - they needed to fix an engine gauge. It would've been fine, but they started getting dumb about it. They would make an announcement saying what time they were going to give us an update and put that time up on the monitor, but when that time came, they wouldn't give an update and just changed the time on the monitor to half an hour later. This created very cranky travelers and could have been easily avoided. The last time they did this, I thought there was going to be anarchy. When the newly appointed time of 5pm rolled around, most people stood and glared toward the desk. But the woman behind the counter picked up her little microphone and said, "We'll begin boarding first class..." and there was a loud sigh of relief in the gate area. I feared she was going to be taken down if she said that we still didn't know when the repairs would be complete. Nice save, lady.

It was a very full plane and people were practically jubilant to be boarding. We all took our seats quickly and then...nothing happened. We waited. And waited. And waited. There was no announcement from the cockpit. Nothing. The flight attendants walked through the plane with water and cups. People started demanding to know what the HELL was going on here. Forty-five minutes after we boarded the plane, the captain announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, sorry for the delay. The plane is in perfect condition, but the catering truck broke down on the way to our plane and that delay caused another problem. This flight crew cannot go to Portland because we will be exceeding the FAA-mandated length of a duty day. So...we're waiting for a new flight crew to come on board and take you to Portland. I'm waiting for a call back from the airport's crew captain to let me know when they'll be getting here. Sorry about that, folks." And so we got up and walked with the girls. I went into the back of the plane to get some water. People were helping themselves to peanuts and sodas and $5 snack-packs. Anarchy had indeed taken over. One of the flight attendants came in back to get her stuff before deplaning and she had to ask nicely to get to the cooler where her thermos was kept. She didn't make eye-contact and moved quickly. None of this was her fault, but she was no dummy. The new crew finally arrived - an hour and 45 minutes after we'd boarded, nearly 5 hours since we were scheduled to depart - and they passed out $100 vouchers and free headsets to everyone. Instant heroes. Dude complained at the Portland airport and they gave us each additional $250 vouchers. The biggest saving grace? Neither girl pooped during the whole ordeal. Brilliant.

Here's a funny aside: When we were checking in at the Green Bay airport, Dude put one of our suitcases up on the scale, then took it off and put up the other, then took it off and put Belly up there. He was all, "Ooops!" with a big grin to the woman at the counter. "That's probably breaking a ton of rules, huh?" And she confirmed that it was. So he took her off and put the Bug on the scale so we could see how much she weighed, too. The woman behind the counter just cooed over how cute they were. You gotta love small town airports. And for the record, they each weigh 26 pounds even.

Here are a coupla pictures from our trip:

Classic Wisconnie pics

The Bug

Belly (with Dude)

Boating family

(you may notice that is the same boat from the Bond film "Live and Let Die" - how very tres cool of my in-laws when they bought it 25ish years ago)

Both girlies

Aren't the girls adorable?? That's a rhetorical question. I'm not even posting all of the ridiculously cute nudie pictures of the girls at the lake. Those will be emailed directly to the grandparents. Here are two last pics, though, from about a week before our trip.

Kissy Sissies

Delayed

We're in the Minneapolis airport, having flown here from Green Bay, and we're waiting for yet another update as to when our flight will leave. We were scheduled to depart two hours ago, but there are issues with one of the engine gauges. We'll get another status update in half an hour. Sigh. Belly is sleeping in her stroller, but Buggy won't pass out. It's a great little thing called overstimulation. She'll put her head down on my shoulder but won't close her eyes. And her mouth just keeps going, "Hat. Guy. Baby. Mama. Shoe. Lady. Anna." This last one is the result of meeting her 14-month-old cousin named Anna on this trip. Buggy couldn't get enough of her! Or her snacks. Or her sippy cup. Or her bottle. But it was really sweet to see the three tiny tots having so much fun together.

Anyway. Dude and the Bug just went to go find sandwiches. Maybe she'll fall asleep while they're gone. And if not, maybe she won't mind if I take a snooze in her stroller since she's not using it. God that'd be nice!

On the res

Northern Wisconsin is Indian country. There are a number of different tribes that have reservations here - many with glaring casinos juxtaposed against the calm beauty of the area. Another way that the reservations make money is by collecting taxes from the whiteys who live here, like my in-laws. This cottage sits on the edge of a smallish lake on the Menomonee Indian Reservation. Across the lake is the cultural center and last night the sound of drumming and singing rang out across the water for several hours. It was VERY cool. And as I stood on the dock in the dark listening, it was easy to imagine how terrifying it must've been to hear it coming your direction with a war party in tow. Even from a distance, the drum vibrated in my chest. My father-in-law noted that if there ever was an uprising against non-Indians on the reservation and we were here, Belly and the Bug would be spared because they look like little Indian girls. Great. That's so
comforting.

I'm starting to tire of being here. It gets a little overwhelming with so many people and I feel like I'm constantly having to redirect the girls. Nothing in the kitchen is child-proofed and with an open floorplan, I'm trying to be diligent in keeping them out of there. Belly likes to flip the oven light switch (conveniently located on the front of the oven door) up and down and up and down. There's a lot of baking going on and that door gets HOT. Buggy is more into starting the dishwasher and opening the cupboards with the cheese grater and cleaning supplies in them. It's fairly lame.

Aw man. I just reread that and I sound like such a whiner. It IS patience-trying to be here, but it's also pretty fun. We took the boat out earlier - just Dude and me and the girls. Each girl took a turn driving the boat with Dude and it was hysterical because they kept pushing his hands away. They certainly didn't need HIS help! And they loved the wind in their hair and flying across the lake. Belly kept shouting, "Wheeeeeee!" and Buggy repeated, "Lake! Boat! Lake! Boat!" Their wee worlds were pretty much rocked. And I made dinner for the whole clan tonight. It was a big hit. I felt appreciated. All told, it was probably the perfect amount of time to be here. Next Wisco trip, though, I've GOT to get down to the southern end of the state and see some of MY peeps!

Tales from the front

I'm here. In Wisconsin. At the cottage of my in-laws. I've consumed plenty of beer and beef since arriving on Tuesday evening. I've even had fried cheese curds and a root beer float made with frozen custard - some of the finer things in life, to be sure. The weather has been pretty damn near perfect, too - mostly sunny, warm, low humidity. Wisconsin in the summer is why people suffer through those heinous winters. Of course, I'm not one of those people. I left here in thirteen years ago and haven't looked back. It's only been a few years since my in-laws have stopped asking if we'll ever move back. They must've finally tired of hearing the same response: "No. Never."

But I digress. It's a great place to visit. The girls traveled very well on Tuesday. It was kinda funny because we spent an extra long layover in the Minneapolis airport and Belly ended up being very, very social. She mingled and twirled and worked the crowd (which is usually the Bug's specialty). At one point, she ran away from us and we called for her to come back. She stopped in front of every person seated on the way back until she received some sort of a acknowledgement from them. Then she moved on to the next. It was pretty dang cute, people! Dude joked, "Hi! I'm running for office and I'd appreciate your vote." That's exactly what it was like. The Bug watched from the safety of my knees, stunned by her sister's audacity.

We finally arrived and got to Mimi and Grandpa John's cottage around 10:15pm. Mimi had Meat Dish Supreme waiting for us. That's right - I said Meat Dish Supreme. This is Dude's favorite dish in his mother's repertoire. He ate enough of the artery-clogging concoction for the both of us and I opted to just have some delicious, delicious Riverwest Stein from Lakefront Brewery for dinner. One of us had to act responsibly after all.

It's funny about Wisconsin. Even though we are nowhere near the part of the state in which I grew up, it all kinda looks the same: rolling hills, lots of trees and farms with silos, corn fields, country highways named after every letter in the alphabet. And every time I come back, I get a feeling of anxiousness. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but it's like I'm reminded of all the times I spent driving the back roads in high school, stressing about boys or Mom or something. It also reminds me of a terrible, terrible relationship that I had with a guy some years older than me right before I moved to the bustling metropolis of Milwaukee when I was seventeen. That guy messed me up in a way that is embarrassing to even think about. I loved him way more than I should have and he treated me like total crap. I moved away but still talked to him. I still pined for him. He continued to play me. Even after I started dating Dude, I thought about this guy a lot and
stayed in touch with him. I purposely lost contact with him when I moved to Los Angeles in 1996. And that was that. Until of course we reconnected on MySpace a few years ago. I was immediately reminded of how charming he is - quickly followed by what a jerk he is. ANYWAY. Driving the highways of Wisconsin reminds me of being upset with him and just driving, driving, driving while sobbing instead of going home and letting anyone know what was happening (it was something of a forbidden relationship). It was a pretty miserable time in my life. Thanks for the memories today, Highway J! Ugh. Thank the lord I'm happily married and don't have to date. I don't think I was ever very good at it.

My in-laws are wonderful, generous, loving, Christian folk. They are the epitome of doting grandparents and still treat Dude like he is the returning hero every time he comes home. They are super loving to me. So I have no doubt that I sound kinda bitchy saying that it is always slightly stressful coming to visit. There is always some comment made by Mimi (Dude's mother) that offends me. Additionally, they love to debate politics - which I am loathe to do. Tonight at dinner, John asked Mimi what topic she wanted to open for discussion. I visibly squirmed in my seat. Fortunately, my 11-year-old nephew decided that he wanted to tell everyone about the Allegory of the Cave and his take on Socrates instead. I was able to simply tune out.

Mimi never fails to crack me up, though. I hope when you picture her, you conjure up an image of a modern-day June Cleaver, complete with pearls. That's pretty close. Anyway, she told me yesterday that she has a tough time finding jeans that fit her just right. She was doing some jeans shopping for my a-little-on-the-chunky-side nephew when she realized that the jeans she purchased for him might also work for her. And they did! So she bought herself a pair and what did I think of her Husky brand adjustable-waist jeans? I had to struggle to keep from falling into a fit of giggles but remarked that they looked great. Good lord, peeps. GOOD LORD. There are still three more days here.