On a Scale of Grossness, This is a 10

I've had some pretty gross experiences in my life.  It was my 28th birthday and since my actual birth date is the 28th, it was my golden birthday.  I had gotten married to the love of my life a mere two weeks before that.  We were returning from our honeymoon in beautiful O'ahu. 

Seriously, for birthdays, this should be at the top-o-the list of the greatest ones of all time.  However, this birthday made a different list:  the grossness list.

We had a small lay over at LAX before heading home to Seattle.  It wasn't that big of a deal, we could get something to eat, use the restroom and then hit the remaining leg of our journey. 

Immediately upon arrival at LAX, N and I went to our respective restrooms.  That's where my birthday took a nasty turn.  You see, I assumed that there was a public code for bathroom cleanliness.  I will tell you, there is not.  I was in my stall feeling really sorry for the person who apparently was not feeling well in the stall next to me.  When I looked down and realized it wasn't coming from the stall next to me at all.  I hate stepped in human poop.  On my new Nike running shoes. 

I spent the next 45 minutes trying to get the poop off my shoes and to keep from gagging.  It was the absolute grossest thing that's ever happened to me.

Until last night...

You see Zoe and I went swimming at the YMCA because she got a new floatation device that had to be tested.  About 35 minutes into our swimming adventure, the lifeguards blew their whistle and ordered everyone out of the pool.  Oh yes, they found poop.

While we were swimming!

Fortunately it wasn't near where we were, but still, a couple, deep strokes and good kicks and it would've been. 

Zoe doesn't understand why we still couldn't play, but did agree that swimming in poop isn't a very good idea. 

All I can say is that I'm so glad for cholorine because I'm hoping it killed all that fecal matter before it came floating over to us. 

She's a Liberated Woman

For years Zoe has talked about getting married and being a parent.  If you ask her what she wants to be she always responds with "a parent and..."  Each week it's something new after "and".  This week it's I want to be "a parent and a pilot."  Last week it was I want to be "a parent and a dentist."  She's got loads of ideas.

Usually when we asked her who she was going to marry, she'd say "daddy."  She has been going to marry daddy since she has been able to answer the question.  There are times when she'll come out in her Cinderella dress, with a ring in her hand and tell daddy they're getting married.  N, being the good daddy that he is, will get his Fedora and a tie and marry her, then dance with her.  It's the cutest thing.

Zoe has moved on.  She's no longer going to marry daddy.  She informed me this past week that she's going to marry Ben, a boy at our church.  The good news is that this boy is her age, he's actually 3 weeks older than Zoe.  He's also a very sweet boy and his family is totally awesome.  Both N and I are okay with this choice, so long as they wait about 20 years. 

I saw Ben's parents at church on Sunday and told them that Zoe was planning to marry Ben.  His mom said, "he's planning on marrying me, so we'll see if he's ready to marry someone else.  Zoe's a great choice, she's cute and nice!" 

On Sunday they were both in the nursery together, helping me.  This was the conversation:

Z:  Ben, you know when we grow up, I'm going to marry you.

B:  Really?  Marry me?
Z:  Yep!  When we grow up, we're getting married.

B:  Okay, I'll marry you. 

Z:  Okay, let's go play house.  I'll be the mommy and you be the daddy.

B:  I'll help you make some food.  We can do it together!

They played together the rest of the day.  Ben found a fake dinosaur and when he realized it freaked Zoe out, he chased her with it. 

When Zoe found out that he thought that was funny, she told him that it wasn't funny and that he better stop it. 

They had their first betrothal spat. 

It ended well.  They were playing musical chairs by the end of the hour.  Apparently we gained a future son-in-law yesterday. 

The Way Back, Play Back

We are in the midst of going through boxes, cleaning out closets and the garage and getting ready for the big move.  Because Zoe and I will be moving in with my mom, she is also going through everything.  Apparently in my younger days I was a hoarder.  She has no less than 50 boxes of my memorabilia that need to be tended to.  Honestly, I have no clue why I kept pencils the size of quarters or shirts that neither of us have any recollection of me wearing.  It's mind-boggling all the junk I've accumulated.  Especially since I'm anti-save anything now.  I kept a few baby clothes of Zoe's, but that's it.  I have no problem throwing away her weird cut-out art project that has no meaning.  I did keep the paper where she's learning to write her name.  I'm not totally heartless, just more practical than I used to be.

I'm not going to lie, it's been absolutely fun going through all the boxes.  I've found several pictures that bring back old memories.  There are also a ton of pictures of me as a little girl.  When I show them to Zoe, she says, "I don't remember having that dress mom...oh wait, that's you."  I always knew we looked alike, but it's freaky how much. 

That's not all I've found.  N and I used to date in high school.  I use the term "date" very loosely.  Basically we went to two dances and a movie.  Considering that I wasn't a huge dater, that's quite a bit.  As I was going through my high school memory book, I came across a photo album.  This was the picture on the front:

Why yes, that is N and me at a dance our junior year.  The memories came flooding back.  He informed me that he had the perfect vest, it was a chili pepper vest.  That only played into my small crisis in that I couldn't find a dress that I liked.  Try and find the perfect dress that goes with a chili pepper vest and one that gives you confidence despite all the phobia of going to a dance with a boy you really like who also freaks you out because he likes you back.  Oh, teenage drama! 

Since it was semi-formal, I had to get a dress.  Sensing my huge mid-high school-life crisis, my mom offered to make me a dress.  N, of course, wore his totally awesome chili pepper vest.

We doubled with his sister and her date, Justin.  We all went to youth group together and thought it would be fun.  We drove out to Fairchild AFB where N's dad was stationed.  They lived on base.  I'll tell you, there's nothing more intimidating that driving to your date's house, having to wait outside the gate that's guarded by men with guns and have your date come pick you up and escourt you in.  Ah, teenage drama!

His parents made us a fancy dinner of chicken cordon bleu and then served us sparkling cidar in wine glasses.  It was all very sweet and totally uncomfortable.  Then they took no less than 100 pictures of us in a pre-dance photo shoot.  Looking back, it was absolutely awesome that they did this and that I actually kept it.  During the photo shoot, it was totally awkward. 

The dance was a blast.  N has always been a really great dancer and we always had a really great time together.  Even if he wore a chili pepper vest and my skin was bordering on being a Cullen from Twilight. 

I showed this to N this weekend and he said, "I still think you're beautiful...even with that unibrow."  He's a keeper!

It's Always in the Last Place I Check

We are officially in full swing into phase two of the transition from college life to separated, working life.  I'm constantly amazed at how God works.  I realize that, by now, you'd think I'd know He's capable of WAY more than I can fathom.  Yet, each time He does something, I'm amazed...and a slow learner apparently.

Now the N is working full-time, we are having to do the BIG move.  Zoe and I are moving in with my mom and N is moving into a humble abode by the dam.  We've been on the lookout for something with storage because we really don't want to pay for storage.  It is amazing how many apartments don't have garages. 

We've been in deep prayer about this.  I'm not kidding, I probably pray no less than 25 times a day about the living situation.  If I've learned anything in my short life, it's that finding a great place to live in a foreign land is hard.  Especially when N, who is a little directionally challenged, is having to find these places.  He doesn't like to go off the beaten path.  I can't say I blame him.  I don't like feeling lost either.

We had decided that since we couldn't find an affordable place with storage, we'd go with a cheaper apartment and a storage unit.

Then I got a call from my dear friend Steph, who is from the area around the dam.  She had a lead.

In ways that only God can produce, we are the official renters of a 3-bedroom duplex with a garage.  It's only $25 more a month than the apartment with less rooms and no garage.  What's even better, you can see the river from some of the rooms.  Which means N doesn't have far to travel for work.

I cannot tell you how great it feels to have that squared away.  Now we're onto the really fun stuff...packing and prepping for a yard sale. 

The Face that Launch a Thousand Ships

When N and I are apart, we Skype so that we can at least see each other every day. It's done amazing things for this separation and I couldn't be more grateful.  We can't Skype while we're at work, so I've been sending him little pictures of me this week to keep him energize and in loooove!

Here are some of the gems he's been getting:

Surprisingly he's still willing to come home!

Ain't No Match For the Jaws of Life

Now that N is back at work at the dam, I'm having to do more around the house during the week since I'm a single parent of two now.  Zoe is her usual, only child self and requires that we play together, which is fine, I can do that.  I love hanging with my kiddo.  New the family dynamics is Toby.  Honestly, he's sometimes more high maintenance than a human.  He whines when I'm playing with Zoe and not with him.  He herds me away from Zoe so I can play with him.  He will try and sit on my lap when I'm cuddling with Zoe.  He's got all kinds of ideas that revolve around him being the center of attention and not Zoe.  It's sibling rivalry to the extreme. 

Toby is a chewer.  Praise the Lord, he only chews on his toys.  If we get him a stuffed animal, he'll have the stuffing out within the day.  If we give him a bone, he's gnawed off an end of it before the hour is over.  The boy chews and chews and chews.  I'm not complaining because he has only chewed two things he shouldn't have.  I think that's a great record.

However, because he's such a chewer, we are constantly having to get toys for him.  He loves stuffed animals with a squeaker in them.  They make him happy.  We took stock out of these 4-pack of animals that they had a Costco because we got 4 of them and we could make them last 10 days if needed!  The last ladybug is holding onto her last thread and we thought we'd pick up some more this weekend so that Toby would have something to chew this week.

They didn't have them anymore.  They did have these toys called that were appropriately named Tuffy.  They are for aggressive chewers and they're machine washable.  Because God was smiling, they also had squeakers in them, which are Toby's favorite.  We bought a pack thinking that maybe these would last longer than 24 hours. 

Then Toby showed us just how much of a misnomer the word Tuffy was.

Last night I was in the kitchen and in comes Toby making this weird sound.  Then he puked.  It was black.  I'll tell you there's nothing worse than seeing your dog puke and knowing that your husband isn't home to clean it up...until you see it's black and you start to wonder why.  Then you see this:

The Tuffy has been destroyed, eaten and puked back up, all within 24 hours.  I fear for the things that are on the receiving end of that mouth.  I think I'm going to start calling him Jaws rather than Toby. 

No Cavity Club

We've been taking Zoe to the dentist for quite some time now.  I tried to find the original post, but can't, so just trust me that it's been almost or maybe 2 years.  I'm so specific. 

Anyway, in all those previous visits, Zoe sat in the chair, they'd squirt water on a tray with the water gun and "Mr. Thirsty" sucked it up.  Then they'd go to touch her teeth and she'd scream, cry and generally freak out.  They'd move us into a room with a TV so the other kid's wouldn't get scared, count her teeth and then paint them with fluoride.  She'd gag, get a toothbrush and sticker and run, at lightening speeds, out of the joint.

We had to do a dentist appointment during the week of VBS.  Last Thursday was the day and I couldn't make it to the appointment.  Grandma took her and has never really been behind the doors before. 

I called to see how it went and Zoe informed me that she's part of the "No Cavity Club" and she got a Belle toothbrush!  It was the best day ever!  I was so proud of her, but at the same time wasn't sure how they would even know she didn't have cavities because they don't get a very good look. 

Then I talked to my mom.  She made a comment about the cherry toothpaste they used and how she didn't totally understand how to close her mouth around Mr. Thirsty, but it went well.  She said she was confused because they said this is the first time she's been in the chair, but my mom didn't know where else she could be.

Apparently Zoe lost all fear of the dentist and let them work in her mouth.  They scraped tarter, they brushed, they rinsed, they sucked the water out, they even flossed and all the while, no tears!  I couldn't believe it and neither could grandma.  She had no idea the dental miracle she witnessed.

Zoe's pretty proud of herself too.  She's telling everyone she's part of the No Cavity Club and how cherry toothpaste isn't so bad, as long as she doesn't have to use it at home until she's 6.