Coffee Conundrum

Confession Time: I just learned how to make coffee. Like, three weeks ago.

If you've ever had coffee at my house before it's because Steve made it or I called him on the phone to walk me through the process and then promptly forgot again.

I came to coffee drinking late, how this is even possible I don't know. My parents are big coffee drinkers and I've always loved the smell. My school in Kenya sat smack dab in the middle of coffee fields. Also, I had an 8am science class or lab EVERY SINGLE DAY of EVERY SEMESTER OF COLLEGE for FOUR YEARS! And not a drop of caffeine in the mornings (not much soda drinking either, I was on a budget). It's a wonder I graduated, really.

So, why no making of the coffee for me? Two reasons.

1: I really like lattes. I'm willing to pay money for a latte as a special treat but haven't felt the need to have them every day. But I am also cheap...
2: FEAR.

Fear. Yes, fear of actually making coffee and making it WRONG! You see, we live in coffee country. Home of Starbucks (before they got the automatic grinders for their espresso shots and took the final step into coffee travesty) and the millions of little independent coffee shops that can pull a shot of espresso that will make you weep with thankful joy.

This brings a lot of pressure. What if I made the coffee and it was no good? What if I had a guest over and served bad coffee? What if I made bad coffee and drank it anyway, because I don't want to waste the beans that I paid good money for and just ground and inhaled their delicious fragrance as if it could enter my blood stream just by smell alone, and then got so used to bad coffee that I permanently disabled my taste buds and could no longer distinguish good coffee from bad?

The risks have been great. But, with two small children bouncing out of bed with energy to burn each morning (how do they do that? There's no quiet transition period, it's full sleep to full wakefulness in 0.4 seconds!) I finally caved.

I think I might be a little more jittery lately...that's a sign of a well made pot, right?

Turn Around

We said goodbye to one of the last vestiges of babyhood this weekend. Sweetpea is now facing forward in the car. I asked her what she thought about it as I was strapping her in. "It's nice" she answered. Then her eyes got wide and she reached for a hand to hold (Steve's) as we headed down the freeway - her first glimpse of where we were going versus where we'd been plus the view of cars headed in her direction. Intimidating for sure, especially at that speed!

 Another mile-marker for all of us. I think the only one remaining before I really have no excuse for calling her a baby is when we finally move her out of the crib. I haven't even started thinking about it.

Itchy, Itchy

Sweetpea had her two year checkup the other day with the doctor. All was well (except for the pending shot which she naively didn't know about. Of course, The Princess was fully prepared and had already made preparations to sit out in the hall while the torture was in progress...) until he noticed two little spots on her back. Two spots that I was clueless about because Steve had dressed her that morning to help me out since I'd stupidly scheduled her appointment for 8:10 in the morning (What? I have to get up before them, shower, dress, make-up myself, and feed them all before 7:30? That was some serious over-confidence when I scheduled that appointment.)

So, we eyed them together, the doctor and I, wondering what they could be...  Nothing, I'm sure, was my expert opinion. He foolishly mentioned chicken-pox...though they don't actually look anything like chicken-pox.

So, that kid randomly showed up with new spots every other day for a week! Three new spots one day, five new ones the next. No fever, no acknowledgement that they even reside on her body, but just enough of a grumpy attitude to make us wonder if, in fact, she's feeling a little under the weather...

In the meantime I've washed all the sheets, vacuumed the rug, wiped her mattress, the crib, any other hard surface down with clorox - you know, just in case we're infested with a microscopic bug that I can't see and who only likes to bite Sweetpea and not The Princess who shares a room with her...

Oh, and I'm itching ALL THE TIME. Because, you know, my brain is a very powerful force...for evil, evil psychosomatic symptoms that are driving me crazy!

**For those who may see me in person - we are spot free and still symptomless at the time of this posting so don't freak out when you see us!**

Mt Hood to Hood River

We ended the summer in magnificent fashion - this is out of character for us. Usually, we are too annoyed by just the thought of dealing with crowds and hide out at home instead. But, I woke up inspired, forced everyone into their jeans, and whisked them off on an adventure. (I am the supplier of superlatives and exclamation points in our family.)

The top of the world!

We started at Mt Hood. 11, 240 feet, snow, sweat shirts, skiing, hiking, and lunch on a giant rock.

Cuteness in front, Mt Bachelor in the back.

You can't NOT climb a giant rock...

On our way home we stopped in Hood River. Columbia River kite boarding, short sleeves, sun burns (Steve. The rest of us were slathered in spf of course!), ice cream, and dinner at the Full Sail Pub & Brewery.

One of many...we'll be back.

Is this apple juice?

The Hood River Bridge connects Washington to Oregon

Before the melting rivers of cream started

Two extremes separated by the most gorgeous views of three mountains (Hood, Adams, and St Helens.) and apple orchards. It was a wonderful way to say goodbye to summer.

Buzz with Glee

Buzz joined the family for Sweetpea's second birthday courtesy of her most favorite older sister. I never want to forget her glee.

Seriously, does it get any better than this?

(Mini) Jese

Sweetpea has taken up the "Jese" obsession with the Princess.

Five plus Two

Joint party, shared fun, intwined lives. We're so, so blessed with these two.