Summer of Softball

Try The Tray

Hey y'all -

I grew up in the South, which means I was raised on a diet of deep-fried goodness. In my 20s, when I had only recently moved to Los Angeles and would get homesick, I would open a Miller Lite and watch Ms Lucy's Cajun Cooking on the rural television network (RFD-TV). With a nostalgic tear in my eye, I would turn to my roommate Brian and say, "I bet you a hunnerd dollars she's about to top that casserole with grated cheese and Ritz crackers." And sno nuff, she usually did.

One of the biggest disagreements your dad and I have is about vegetables. He thinks they should be crispy and green. I think they should be boiled for an hour with ham. He made green beans the other day, and when Laney refused to eat them, she explained, "These are hard. I only like 'em when they're short and soft." I high-fived her. Preach, sister.

In the way that people in Los Angeles are snobby about clothes and cars, people in Missoula are extremely particular about their food. We march against Monsanto, we buy local, and we know our farmer(s).* Before I moved here, I would have said about Missoulians: "Those people need to shut up and eat a corn dog." But I'm coming around to a more enlightened, cream cheese-free way of thinking.

We now live three blocks from the elementary school. All the time lately, Laney's been saying, "I can't wait 'til I'm five and can go to the elemen'ry school." It seemed like perfect timing when I found out about a "Try The Tray" fundraiser that was happening at the school; the school district is hoping to initiate a new local/organic food program, and was inviting families to come have dinner in the cafeteria (for $3 a person). I signed us up, not because I'm particularly invested (yet) in the food program at the school, but because I knew it would thrill Laney to no end if I told her we were going to have dinner at the big kid school.

So last night we all walked down and had dinner at the cafeteria:

Dinner was veggie lasagna, kale chips, a tossed salad with wheatberries in a lemon/thyme vinaigrette, and veggies and hummus.

The most heartening thing to me was the line of families around the building to get in and support the idea. It says a lot about the place we've chosen to live.

Love,
Mom


* No, really, this is our farmer, Max. Nice guy:

A Boy And His Hose

Dear Hagen,

Trust me - this one makes no sense to us, either.

Last weekend, you picked up a 12ft length of garden hose and decided that it was the be-all, end-all. For three straight days, you pretty much refused to put the damn thing down. You pulled it through the living room, up the stairs, around the yard and anywhere else you wanted to go. Grandma Sue was putting you down for a nap in your room, and I overheard her saying, "I'm not going to put it in the crib with you, but I'll put it beside the bed so you can still see it."

Sometimes, we run water through it just to blow your mind.

In case anyone's wondering what this level of garden hose enthusiasm looks like in motion:

It's cute as a truckload of spotted puppies to see a boy dragging his hose around, but we hope you grow out of this phase soon. While it's somewhat acceptable to take a special blankie or stuffed animal to school for nap time, I think the teachers might second guess our parenting should we send you to school with twelve feet of coiled rubber. 

Love,

Mom

High Style

Dear Laney,

I don't know how you got the idea in your head, but one morning a few weeks ago, you told me you needed a haircut. I thought it was something you had seen on a cartoon - like Strawberry Shortcake had to drive her Candy Cadillac to Blueberry Beauty College to get herself a marshmallow updo. So I agreed with you - Yes! A haircut! - and then promptly forgot we'd ever had the conversation.

But a few days later, like any good administrative assistant, you followed up and asked, "Did you call the place with the haircut lady?" That's when I figured you were serious and booked you an appointment.

You sat in the big chair by yourself and discussed with Morgan the stylist how you'd like your bangs to look.

And when it was all said and done, you got a lollipop for being so nice.

Things took a turn for the much-worse right after I took this picture, so I suspect this was a demon seed-flavored lollipop held together by hell's minion sugar syrup.

When it came time to leave the farmer's market, you didn't want to walk, and you didn't want to ride in the wagon. You wanted to scream and fake cry. I told you that if you were going to act like a baby, I was going to treat you like one, so I plopped you in Hagen's stroller. You thrashed around in that thing like a angry badger in a cardboard box. Thank God Grandma Sue was the one pushing you, so I could walk 25 feet in front of you and pretend I didn't know you. It was so bad that even Grandma Sue told you to sit your behind down and hush.

When we got home, you marched up to your room in a tizzy, slammed your door behind you and screamed, "THIS IS NOT A FUN DAY!" To my credit, I didn't run up the stairs to 1) beat you with a stick and 2) explain how little I cared about the level of fun you were having.

An hour or so later, you came downstairs and apologized for being mean to me. You must have been convincing, because the next day, I took you out shopping for a new swimsuit.

Every ten minutes, you'd ask, "Am I being good now? Am I being so good?"

Yes. For now. But I'm not going to get too comfortable.

Love,
Mom

There's Happy, Then There's Us

Hey y'all -

Our family seems to be going through a deliriously awesome honeymoon phase. The weather has finally warmed up, and we're spending all of our spare time chasing each other around the yard, blowing bubbles, and doing somersaults.

Some random highlights:

Hagen does actually own a tremendous wardrobe, but he seems happy in inverse proportion to how many clothes he's wearing. The closer he gets to naked, the closer he gets to nirvana.

Dad's softball team is continuing its winning streak, and won this week's game 17-2.

Laney has started dressing herself for school every day, in outfits she has chosen for herself. Sometimes, she puts together an ensemble that's surprisingly stylish - something I never would have thought of that really works. And sometimes she looks like a deranged hobo. But she always stands behind her choice, and I've decided that instilling a sense of confidence in her is more important than a matching outfit. I mean, I assume her teachers know that I'm not the one who put together that fluffy dress/jogging pants/princess jewelry/zebra purse combo. Either that, or they think she's being raised by really permissive drag queens. They're still cashing my tuition checks, so they must not care either way.

I went out with a group of girlfriends last night to the Elks Club to listen to some music, and found myself at a Cold Hard Cash show - they're a Johnny Cash tribute band, and when they started performing, my jaw hit the table. Amazing. (Click here and tell me if they don't sound just like Johnny and the Tennessee Two).

I honestly can't think of anything to complain about (which is death to good blogging and songwriting). Maybe it'll snow again and I'll get my funny blog mojo back. It hailed last week, so it could happen.

Until then, it's all rainbows and unicorns and glitter and bliss. And that's just ONE Laney outfit.

Love,
Mom

Quality of Life

Hey y'all -

We loved living in Alberton. Our friends were/are delightful people who we love like family. That being said, here's all the ways living in Missoula is better (for us):

1) There are a ton of cool things within walking distance from our house. Like this park, four blocks away:

In fact, the park is so close that Laney can pull Hagen all the way there and back in a wagon.

You know what used to be (barely) within walking distance of our old house? Our mailbox.

2) Date night on wheels. Grandma Sue comes over, and Dad and I can hop on our bikes and pedal to the microbrewery (9 blocks away)

When my family was here a few weeks ago, I kept describing Missoula as being fueled by babies n' beer. Everybody's got a young'un, and everybody has a favorite local brew. In fact, the brewery in our neighborhood has a toy box, because of course it does.

3) Free landscaping. Speaking of Grandma Sue, she's done a great job with our garden. When I sent my cousin Heidi pictures of the house before we bought it, she asked, "Are you really going to grow anything in that garden?" Well, no I'm not, smarty pants, but my mother-in-law is. All hail, outsourcing.

In fact, we live so close to each other now that it's not unusual to look out the back window and see Grandma Sue in the yard, doing her patented sprinklin' and drinklin'.

 4) The food! There are two farmer's markets every Saturday morning (on opposite ends of the same street with trolley service in between), and we hit 'em both. Laney has developed a deep, abiding love for kettle corn, and usually picks that as her treat.

 

 

Last Saturday, we saw a dude dressed as Spiderman climbing the bank building next to the market, and rappelling down. Way to go, my drama major brother.

We've also joined the Missoula Food Co-op, which is only five blocks from our house, and is basically a 7-11-sized Whole Foods.

Also, our other nearest grocery store was just named one of the 8 best grocery stores in America by Bon Appetit, and we've contributed to a local farmer's crop this year in exchange for weekly deliveries of his produce. 

Walmart is probably wondering what became of me; I'm one missed leg shaving away from going full hippie. 

5) Paved roads.

6) Choose Your Own Adventure. Every few days, I'll let Laney pick an adventure for us to go on, like riding her bike to the neighborhood grocery store or going to the "sprayground" water park - also in the neighborhood. Right now, she's enamored of the city bus, which comes through our neighborhood and will take me and both of the kids to the downtown library for a dollar.

7) No bears.

I'm fairly convinced that - for us - Missoula is the perfect town. "But the snow!" you say. Or "But the arctic conditions 9 months of the year!" I know, I know. But we need something to keep all you other yahoos from moving here. 

Love,

Mom

Tense Negotiations

Dear Laney,

The weekend before last, we went to the Farmer's Market and decided to take a ride back home on the trolley. Since it was taking a while for the trolley to arrive, I pulled out my phone and showed you how to make a movie on it. You'll never guess the subject of your first clip:

Then Cedar responded in kind, countering your spaghetti suggestion with a vote for mac n' cheese.

Then, Laney took my phone and all by herself shot this little response. Now, the stakes have been raised, with the offer of a tea party and cheese crackers.

No idea when/if this slumber party is actually happening, but it sure seems fun for you two to talk about.

Love,
Mom