Trip to Ocean Shores

The beauty of going on vacation with young kids is they only remember the fun times, the good parts. The days running around the beach, digging in the sand, and splashing in the ocean. The nights staying up too late giggling in the hotel bed as we tell them repeatedly to go to sleep. The kids said it was the best vacation ever. Makes it totally worth it even if The Finn and I disagree. Las Vegas is the best trip ever, just ask The Finn.

We took the kids to Ocean Shores for Labor Day weekend. We decided last minute to get out of town, so our choices for lodging were slim. While the Finn and I would not stay at this particular hotel again, the kids adored it. It had an observatory deck to see the ocean and mountains (with filthy windows you couldn’t see out), an indoor swimming pool (with half of the ceiling above the pool covered in tarps because it was under construction and possibly leaking into the pool) and easy access to the beach (with drunks wondering aimlessly along the path and cars honking and driving recklessly right outside the hotel parking lot.)

 

For some reason, I thought a beach vacation would be relaxing. Why do I always forget that any vacation with young kids, no matter where you go, isn’t relaxing? It’s work. Being on vacation doesn’t change my kids’ internal alarm clocks from waking up at 5:30am. Our hotel didn’t start serving microwaved scrambled eggs, undercooked sausage and heavily processed cereals until 7am. So, our kids watched their iPads for 1.5 hours and ate Pirate Booty at the crack of dawn because we needed to prevent them from screaming and waking the neighbors. The Finn and I took turns reminding Niko to use his inside voice which doesn’t exist. He has two volumes- loud and louder.

We bounced from breakfast, to the “tiny” hotel room as the kids called it (Because the last hotel room we stayed in was an extended stay, so it was larger. Spoiled!) to get dressed for the beach, schlepped all our stuff to the car, drove to the beach, unpacked everything, sunblock applied, and toys scattered about. We’re there ten minutes when one kid has to poop. So, we pack everything back up and head back to the room. Then repeat the unpacking process again when we head back to the beach after kid uses the bathroom.

While it was exhausting for us, the kids had a positive outlook. It reminded me that life is all about how I perceive things. While the Finn and I saw the never-ending bags of toys, snacks, and towels we needed for a measly hour trip to the beach, the kids saw a playground with sand, water, puddles and endless ways to use their imaginations. They buried toys and chased seagulls with squirt guns (Niko’s favorite activity) while we explained what a tide was and how it works. We hunted for crabs, saw jellyfish on the beach, and witnessed a fish being pecked to death by a seagull (or as Niko calls them- eagles.) I also had to explain what marijuana was to my 8 year old since someone was vaping it on the beach and she was appalled by the smell.

The kids took all the lessons in stride. They soaked up the information and kept asking questions. They were engaged and entertained by the outdoors, not electronics, which was so refreshing. I was happy to see them enjoy the ocean and all it has to offer. Or maybe I was stoned from the guy’s secondhand pot smoke? Either way, it made my heart happy.

We closed down our summer at Ocean Shores and I’m looking forward to fall and getting back into a routine with school. I’ll miss their thirst for knowledge and usually upbeat attitudes. But instead of being sad they’re gone (who am I kidding? Instead of sitting on my butt and catching up on Netflix while they’re at school), I’ll choose to see things in a positive light, like my kids do, and make this is a great remainder of the year for me. Stay tuned to see if I can book the classes and activities I hope to during my free time. I’ll also try to fill you in what I’ve been up to since the last time I posted.

Adrenal Fatigue

 

It’s been one year since we moved cross country. Hell, it’s been an excruciating, oh-so trying, dear God take me now kinda year since we packed up and left Cincinnati.

I’m still recovering. Before the move, I spent 34 days alone with two kids and two dogs packing and purging items from our house. I said goodbye to our friends and family alone since my husband wasn’t able to come back from his new job.  We lived in a Seattle hotel with for three weeks before our belongings arrived. We moved into a new house. I unpacked it. I found my daughter a new preschool, researched dentists and doctors, found local parks, etc etc. And I cried. Because I was overwhelmed and exhausted. All the time.

Everyday felt like I was knee-high in a pool of mud. I pushed my legs to keep going, my mind to keep trying, but the mud was never-ending and my thoughts became fuzzy. I had no energy, felt anxiety over trivial tasks, and my hair was falling out.

My naturopath diagnosed me with adrenal fatigue. I had rationalized away all my symptoms as simply part of being a mom. Us moms joke about pulling out our hair, but mine was falling out and clogging the shower drain. I convinced myself it was post-partum hair loss even though my son was two years old. How?!

I pulled back the reins and focused on myself without guilt. Fine, with some guilt. The kids will survive playing in the backyard with toys instead of being carted across town to the park. We’ll put together puzzles and color instead of driving to a daily play date. I’ll not get involved in every mom’s group and neighborhood event in an attempt to make friends. Friends will come with time. Right now, I need time to myself.

The most difficult part was admitting I couldn’t handle everything. I know moms who easily pack up a house with four kids and run off to somewhere new without breaking a sweat. But not me. I’m learning to be okay with it.

It’s been eight months since my diagnosis. I’m still taking supplements to help with adrenal fatigue, but I’m in a much better place. My hair is growing back, I have an increase in my energy and I’m less irritable. I also have a strict bedtime and refuse to over schedule myself or the kids.

I remind myself to have grace and focus on what’s most important in our lives. For now, I try to schedule only a few activities at a time, and try not to take on more than I can handle. I still struggle with learning my limits, but am working on it. Now I’m off to my daughter’s Girl Scout meeting. Did I mention I’m the troop leader for 18 kindergartners? Eh, I’m a work in progress, remember?

Finnish School is Out!

I attended the kids’ last day of Finnish school because there was an awards ceremony. Since the school encourages only Finnish to be spoken, I’m screwed because my Finnish vocabulary is limited to, “Where is your pacifier?” “Take your fingers out of your mouth,” and “put your pants on.” None of those are suitable replies when people speak to me. Or if they are, I don’t want to be a part of that conversation.

During the ceremony Little Finn runs out of the room where all the parents and kids have gathered to sing and receive awards. The Finn follows. I’m left alone with the older kid as the program begins.

Finn Girl’s teacher stands up. What’s she saying? I have no clue in it’s another language! Well, Finn Girl and her teacher have the same name, Suvi, which means summer in Finnish. We’re singing a song about summer during in the program.
Her teacher says something that sounds like Suvi (finnish language puts different endings on nouns and it confuses the hell outta me), but I don’t know if she’s talking about herself, Finn Girl, summer or the song. After the third time the teacher says Suvi, a parent hissed at me in English that Suvi needed to go up front to accept her certificate. Awkward, indeed.

Here’s Little Finn completely avoiding class. We’re all doing some hokey-pokey-like dance. Yup, us grown-ass adults shaking our legs and twirling around like morons while our 2 year old gives zero shits about the class. Pretty much sums up how he felt about his class all year.

Look, here’s the certificates they received. I don’t understand what’s written on them. The Finn says they signify the kids completed that year’s class. Ok, sounds good. I’ve learned Google and Bing do not translate Finnish well, so I’ll take his word for it.

The kids were excited school was over, but I will miss it.  It was the only time I got the house all to myself!

 

Hiking with Kids

It’s been an unseasonably warm winter in Washington. We’ve been enjoying 60 degree weather, sunshine and our flowers are starting to bloom. The family decided to take advantage of the weather and go for a local hike. I packed up water, snacks, hand sanitizer, wipes, and crossed my fingers.
Thirty minutes later we were at Coal Creek park. I strapped Little Finn into my carrier. And away we went with him crying and kicking me.

So many picturesque moments of green landscapes on the hike. I showed my sister the above picture of the waterfall at the end of the hike. She said it looked fake. I told her if it was fake it’d look like this…

That red thing is me floating down the river. Do you know how exhausting it is carrying 27 lb of screaming toddler on your back up a muddy, steep incline?
During the 45 minute trek Little Finn pulled my ponytail like I was his horse and my hair was his rein. He also wiped his snotty nose and dirty hands in my ponytail. I had no idea my hair had so many uses.
Maybe it’s a new trend I can start here. Out of tissues? Use your hair! Ran out of wipes? Use your hair! I’m certain I can find articles on how snot and crumbs are nourishing for your hair. It’s also a renewable resource. People will love that aspect out here!

The hike back down was summed up nicely by Finn Girl, “Listening to nature is boring. When are we done? I never want to come back here.”

Yeah, not seeing Girl Scouts in her future.

Field Trip to Crystal Mountain

“Let’s go check out Crystal Mountain today!” I said. “Okay,” said the Finn. Or I could’ve stabbed myself in the eye with a pencil and had the same amount of fun. Why did we think taking a five year old and two year old to a ski resort would be enjoyable? I blame it on the third cup of coffee I was throwing back. I was high on caffeine and unattainable dreams. I was yearning for an adventure.
I dress the kids and throw a shit ton (yes, that’s an exact amount) of snacks into my mom-bag. You know the one. Purchased from a thirty-one party with a trendy chevron pattern and monogrammed “M” on it. I mean how else do middle class moms tote their stuff around?
I put the bag in the car, and come back three minutes later to find Little Finn running around naked throwing his snow boots at the dogs. Finn Girl is sobbing in a heap on the floor wailing that her socks don’t fit and socks will never fit her correctly. My dear husband is sending work emails while ignoring the kids who are on the verge of revolting against clothing. I quickly debate how long I could survive on the snacks I just threw in the car if I quietly slip out the back door and run away.

The tears have dried up by the time arrive at Crystal Mountain 90 minutes later. It’s covered in a perfectly even, thin blanket of snow. It’s like a salt shaker shook the same amount of snow on each pine tree branch. It reminds me of winter in Finland.
Twenty minutes and $50 later we’re on the gondola chugging up the mountain. The snow coats the trees thicker the further up we go. We stop at the top and step out to see Mt. Rainier boldly sticking her peak out above the clouds. Layers of mountains surround her. Each covered in varying amounts of snow and sharp jutting edges. I’m hypnotized by the scenery. Completely unaware that I’m blocking the path to the slopes until I’m hit in the shin by a snowboard.
Oh yeah, this is a ski resort. You’d think I’d learned to ski after spending almost 10 years with a guy who grew up competitively downhill skiing and cross country skiing, but alas, I haven’t. I can cross country ski on flat surfaces. That’s it.

The kids make snow angels and eat snow from a mom-approved clean pile. Then the Finn hits our daughter in the face with a snowball. In front of the restaurant that’s at the top of the mountain. Awesome. The adults in the restaurant laugh while Finn Girl breaks down in tears and says she’s ready to go. I tried to snap a quick family photo, but this is what you get. Little Finn face down in the snow crying.
I throw back a latte on the way home and my caffeinated dreams take over. Maybe next time I’ll take ski lessons and we can all go skiing as a family. Or maybe the kids can take ski lessons and I’ll sit in the lodge with a drink. Yes, that sounds more like it.

New Year with New Beginnings

Ah, 2015. Oh how I hope you will be kind to me as the last part of 2014 left me emotionally crippled and a borderline alcoholic. Seriously, I laid on the kitchen floor and cried in defeat as I vowed to never, ever move again. It’s painful, exhausting, and nerve wracking.
My kids had no issues with their dear mom crying on the floor. They ran around my limp body celebrating like hunters who caught their elusive prey. They knew mama was broken and they would get ANYTHING THEY WANTED! They were right. I’m now paying for those actions as I attempt to get them into a new routine in our new surroundings.
I’m trying to convince Little Finn that we eat sitting down at a table and not while pacing around the kitchen crop dusting us and giggling about it. (Boys are gross!)
Finn Girl wants three different types of cereal each morning. (Our hotel had free breakfast and she loved eating a variety of cereals. I let her do as she pleased because I was busy keeping Little Finn from tipping over his high chair and throwing muffins at other hotel guests. It was fun.)
As for me, my sanity has been reclaimed and my wine guzzling nights are no more. I’ve been behind the scenes plotting my return to the world.
I’m planning for 2015 to involve working more and crying less. That goes for me AND the kiddos. Can I get an Amen? What are your goals for the New Year?

Finn Girl crying because I asked her to put her shoes away. Little Finn tried to comfort her.

Goodbye Cincinnati, Hello Seattle Hotel Living

Goodbye to the first house we purchased.

We’re officially Washingtonians or Washingtonites or just plain ol’ residents of Washington state. We said goodbye to our old house and touched down Saturday. No, we didn’t celebrate by firing up a bong and smoking some pot.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s all about safety with this one. Read every safety manual on both flights and make certain I did, too.

Instead we got takeout and went to bed at 8pm because of the three hour time difference. And the fact we spent 7 long-ass hours on a plane entertaining a 5 year old and 2 year old while keeping two tiny dogs under our feet sedated with enough meds to make them stop staring at us through the mesh bags with sad eyes and tiny muzzles that remind me of Hannibal Lector mask around their snouts. Pathetic.

Little Finn rewarded our valiant and exhausting efforts by waking up at 3am the next morning. Thank you Pacific Time zone.

Now onto two weeks of extended stay hotel living with communal laundry machines (I found a stranger’s sock in my clean laundry!), stiff bed linens and two TV channels (Weather Channel and CNN, naturally) to entertain the kids.

Mama needs a drink. Thank goodness the front desk had a wine cork. I was about to bust open the bottle bar fight style and drink from the jagged edges.

Cheers my friends!

Plans change…

Today didn’t work out as scheduled. Time is running out before we make our big move. I’m on a tight schedule. A snow day for my daughter meant no school and mom needed to entertain her. We put my little boy down for a nap and spent the afternoon playing in the snow.

We enjoyed the cold weather by making snow angels and having a snowball fight. It ended in tears because my bad aim landed a snowball directly in her face, but it was all good after I wiped off the snow that fell into her jacket and up her nose. Yeah, good parenting.
I put the to do list and thoughts of the move to the side and enjoyed time with my little girl. That is always a good day in my book!

Hyvää isänpäivää! (Happy Father’s Day!)

Father’s Day in Finland is always celebrated the second Sunday in November. The Finn is in Seattle with his new job, but he attended the Finnish School’s Father’s Day celebration today. In honor of the day, the kids and I thought it would be nice to surprise him with a card at the event. I mean, some new guy at the school with no kids lurking around looks like creepy, right?
The principal of the Finnish School was kind enough to let me mail a homemade card that she would give to the Finn for us, but unfortunately it didn’t arrive in time.

 

Finns celebrate the tradition similar to Americans with cards, food and time spent as a family. Here’s a couple things they do differently:

• Seeing the Finnish flag waving in the air honoring you and other dads. It is custom to fly the flag on Father’s Day.
• Watching ice hockey on TV. Finland has been playing Sweden on Father’s Day in Helsinki for years. It’s a rivalry as big as Seahawks vs. 49ers!The kids and I hope the Finn enjoyed his Finnish Father’s Day!

New Beginnings in a New City

I’ve been busy. Real busy. Since my last post the Finn accepted a new job, we put our home on the market, sold it and bought a new one. We’re moving to Seattle in a mere few weeks!

The Finn and I took a couple trips (sans kids!) to check out our new surroundings. The best finds thus far are discovering an area of town called Finn Hill and a local Finnish school. We’ve eager to get the kids into weekly Finnish lessons, and a beginner class for me. (Having your husband teach you a new language is NOT the way to go).

Looks like the Seattle area has a heavy Scandinavian influence that we’ll be looking into. I’m also excited about all the fresh seafood, which was a staple item in my husband’s diet growing up.

Check out the school below:

http://www.finnishschoolofseattle.org/