day tripper

Home school rules because you can do whatever you please and it's great. It is actually a learning experience. We decided to ride the train to Klamath, since the weather there this time of year is iffy, and on a good day it would take about 7 or 8 hours (and let's just face it, I am in no position to be responsible for all of us in the car that long, I can hardly manage at home, with help).

My mom had a Friday off and my very good friend Racheal is also very pregnant and the new baby is due to make his appearance at any moment (really) so I was hoping to do some fabulous multi tasking by persuading the baby to come out while I was there as well. (didn't happen)

Ah Klamath, I have such fond memories of you. Every time I go home it is like another adventure in the twilight zone (not the dreamy Edward Cullen version of twilight, the strange, is this actually happening to me version) This trip was no exception.

We had left a very important bag behind when we left, and through some magic powers, my friend Erika had it sent on the next flight to Klamath Falls. (yes, I realize I am spoiled, and I love it, and barely ever feel guilty about it either) My dad and I had to go to the airport to pick it up in the morning. (early, like who is awake when it is still dark-early) We drive out to the airport; (now I must take a minute to explain this to you, incase you have never been to Klamath Falls, the airport is the size of the play area at McDonalds, but with nothing fun to do. There was a one eyed security guard (no pirate patch, just squinty) some gal wearing a pink scarf behind the counter (Sky West employee?) with no visible identification, and some people milling around the chairs in the lobby. ) I go inside to grab my bag, and find out that Klamath Falls is fogged in. What? I go look outside, there are a few clouds, but apparently the flight can't land unless there is like 2 miles visibility, and unless it clears up soon, the airplane will go land in Medford, or even better, fly all the way back to portland with my pink carebear bag inside. I smile at Pinkscarf and tell her I will check back later. Now there is no way I am going home without my bag, and now we have NOTHING to do, and it is 0 dark thirty. Awesome! I need coffee.

Let the games begin. So my dad is like the mayor of K-Town, and has keys to every back stage in the city. I am usually pretty good natured about his "tours" but I was having kind of a problem this morning, since I didn't get breakfast, or coffee, my bag was missing and the day before was LONG and tiresome. "Dad, I NEED coffee." (hoping he will hear the seriousness in my voice and get me some freaking coffee) no response. He has this game where he pretends you aren't there and does whatever he wants. (fun game) This is getting to be an emergency. "DAD! I need coffee" still nothing. I start getting all fidgety (which he can't stand) yay me, it works, coffee at last. We pull into Dutch Bros. and my dad orders his usual, which is a vanilla latte with cinnamon on top. (very macho) Except he says this (yelling, because he can't hear) "vanilla luh-tay with 2 shots and cinnamon sprinkles" the edgy 20something looks at him (in his flannel shirt and bushy beard) and laughs. "Are you joking?" (must have been when he said cinnamon sprinkles-heh) I am rolling at this point, from lack or caffeine and also, I must admit this is the funniest thing I have seen in a while) then he further confuses her by saying he wants the small size so it will be stronger. I get something called a triple death wish (happy Halloween) and we take off. Dad's none too chipper mood is now dampened since I am still laughing at him and his sprinkles. I start to gulp the coffee, and in exactly 3 minutes, it hits. Whoa. Death wish is right. Oops. I am completely high. I start jabbering at a mile a minute and confessing to things I never even did.

At this point, Dad is getting exasperated with me and decides we need to get out of the car. (you would think maybe for a carby breakfast, but no) Tour time. We park in front of a 10 foot chain length fence enclosure with a little pump house looking building in it. This is going to be good. He opens the gate and we stroll across the lot to the brick building. We get almost there, and I get a whiff of something foul. Mmmmm, not good on my empty stomach, and buzzing brain. What is this place? HEY! I yell, you're not taking me to the underground sewer are you? Dad just smiles. Great. We go in and proceed to go down about 6 flights of stairs to the center of the earth. Well, maybe it just felt that way since I am out of shape, but it was deep, and cold. We get to the bottom, and there are some pipes and motors and things (not worth the stairs) and we check it out and climb back to the surface. I did get some information about the city sewer, but can't remember the specifics at this time. I do, however, remember what came next with stunning clarity. There is a big trapdoor in the parking lot, and as we pass he tells me that it is a huge grinder. Hmmm. He says it's name is the "Muffin Maker" (no idea) and it is big enough to grind up a VW bug, or your wife. (direct quote) This actually interests me more than anything so far, as I wonder why anyone would need a subterranean grinder big enough to handle foreign cars. He also tells me that the thing they pull most out of there are Levi's and mop heads. "Who would flush Levi's and mop heads!?!" indeed.

When he starts to realize that I do, in fact need to eat, he finally takes me to (buy him) breakfast at Muchas Gracias. We had tacos, it was 8am. He asked me if he could get a lemonade, I said yes. How could you not love him?

We proceed back to the airport, get to watch the airplane land, and grab the bag. We head home to the wild things, who are very excited to have their wolf suits in hand. (What else would be important enough to have flown to you overnight?) We crashed Racheal's family pizza night, and there was great people watching (Klamath Falls has eyeliner usage like not seen since the 80s-amazing!) Hit the pumpkin patch, carved pumpkins, and went to the movies. We had an amazing visit, and headed home on Monday morning. Phew, I need a nap. Come to find out, the train is a great place to learn-and Klamath Falls is a great lesson in social studies.

it's fun to play at the YMCA

guess what? We got a membership to the Y. It smells like socks there, but there are classes and a pool and the kids think it's heaven on earth. (and they watch your kids for free while you go to yoga)
Yesterday Layla had her art class for 2 hours, so Maggie and I went to the Y, so I could go to a yoga/pilates class (level I). I was a little nervous since I have taken about 3 yoga classes before, and what was stunningly clear, is that I am not balanced, coordinated or graceful, all of which are kind of important details when you are trying to do yoga, come to find out.
I dropped Mags at the kid watch and went off to find my class. Now, not to sound stereotypical, but I was feeling hesitant because the gals that do yoga are pretty cool. They wear matching spandex outfits-which they manage to look amazing in, can pull of the ridiculous poses without looking like complete asses, and never break a sweat. I climbed the stairs, and standing by the door (where I was told to go) there was an adorable little grandma, and another one was perched on a giant balance ball nearby. I asked them if they were here for the yoga class. "Yes indeed", replied the door monitor, "I have been doing yoga since the 70s." Great, my first class with a guru granny. The one on the ball jumped up and came over to introduce herself and "take me under her wing" since I had revealed it was my first time.
As she pushed our way into the semi darkness, she showed me where to get everything I would need for the class. I was handed a big elastic strappy thing, a foam brick and a blanket. I found my way to the middle of the classroom to lay out my yoga mat, and decided on a spot behind another nice grandma who was wearing a stunning pink suit consisting of cotton pants and a bowling shirt with a giant parrot embroidered on the back. This was getting good. As the other "students" filed in, I was starting to feel a little more comfortable. The teacher (or yogi, or whatever) told us to start relaxing and stretching, at which point Pink Parrot shirt turns to me and says, "listen Sweetie, don't watch me for the moves, I just had my hip replaced and I can't do them all just right". Check that. (I was so proud of myself, I managed to not even smile at that, all the while stowing it away to bring to you as a golden nugget later) Class was about to begin so our leader asked us to please stand up. Pink Parrot shirt squawked "but Honey! I just got down here!" (oh yes, this was the place for me)
There ended up being two older gentleman in the class as well, one was a shade ornery and kept mumbling things under his breath when we had to do ab work, (not very zen if you ask me) and at one point in class, let slip an, um, well, he tooted during some stretches. (still no smile from me, just cataloging for later enjoyment). It was going well, apparently this class was just my level of yoga! At one point we were supposed to "shake it out" and the teacher says "WOW-now THAT WAS STIMULATING!!" (slight grimace from me, I am just a beginner after all)
Near the end of class we were supposed to lay down and relax (something she told us we all really needed) and focus on some areas that needed attention. There is light music, and some water burbling from somewhere (too dark to notice, hoping it was a small fountain) and we all curled up for our senior nap time. At this point she goes around turning off every tiny light that was in the room so that we are now in complete darkness. Um, I happen to be afraid of the dark (well, not normally, but in a room full of strangers, that smells like socks, when I am due to pick up Layla soon and need to see the clock!!!) So she is talking really slow and gentle and it would probably actually be relaxing if not for the aforementioned reasons. I am supposed to be focusing on relaxing my third eye. (ok-what!?) she continues to mention everything that I need to focus on including my pinkie toe (I shit you not!) and the whole time I am thinking-I HAVE GOT to get out of here! I open my eyes, still black. There is no way I can sneak out of here. There is wall to wall geriatrics, it is pitch black, and I have to round up all of the crap I am using (stretchy band which we didn't even use) roll up my mat, find my shoes (where did I put those?).
I am starting to get nervous, negating all of the stretching and relaxing I have been working so hard for this past hour. I sit up on my mat (I am pretty sure I am not going to be invited back) she has asked up previously to "not shift" on account of we might bother our neighbor and knock them back into consciousness or something. I stand up, trying to get my bearings, and she rushes over (what are you doing?!) I have to go, she promises me it will only be 3 more minutes. I lay back down. What?! that's right, I slump back onto my mat and lay there thinking of the crap I am getting into leaving Layla at art class so I can nap here with my new yoga buddies. Awesome. Finally, like a lifetime later, she says we can get up. Someone goes and turns one tiny light on, it was enough for me. I jump up, knock pink granny out of the way, throw my brick at the bin and dash out of the door with my mat flying out behind me like some kind of crazy rubber cape. Out the door, down the stairs, (practically flying) to scoop Maggie out of kid watch (where she of course wants to stay, and have snacks and paste noodles to her forehead), jump in car, zoom to art school, only to get stuck in road construction. I was a few minutes late picking up Layla-she didn't even notice. I think I really like yoga, and the YMCA, I have never felt so good about myself as when I hang out there. I think next time I will bolt before the end nap/self centering bit and it should all work out just fine.

Village People

We just got through a very big week. My mom and my aunties came for a visit! They came to be with us and support us at the JDRF walk to cure diabetes yesterday.

The month before the walk is a really hard time for me because the goal is to raise money for diabetes research-which is wonderful-but means you have to ask your friends and family for money-which is not so wonderful. We live with diabetes all the time, every day, every minute, every second, there are no breaks. Ever. In order to get people to want to give you money, (for your amazing cause-and everyone has one!) you need them to understand the horrors of this disease, and why research, and ultimately a cure is so very vital. To get people to understand is a big job, and requires you telling your story, and all of the messy details, to everyone that wants to listen. Mama's do NOT like this kind of thing, especially when it involves one of their babies and an ugly disease. In real life when we are living with diabetes, we deal with it at meal times and whenever else we need to, and for the most part, try not to focus too much on it, because it can take you to a dark place. The month before the walk, diabetes is on the brain all the time, there are lots of tears, and broken sentences, and stress headaches and kleenexes. (which of course all take place in hiding so the kids won't know what a nut job you are, and/or get all antsy and upset when they see mama having a nervous breakdown). As you can imagine, by the time the walk actually arrives, we are ready and waiting for it to be over. The good news is that the walk is always AMAZING. Really, wow. Layla told me yesterday that she must be a celebrity since so many people were there for her. The Portland JDRF walk was expecting over 5,000 people, (I don't think the final numbers are back yet, but I will let you know) it was awesome. Our local walk is held at a vintage amusement park and includes a free full pancake breakfast (with yogurt, coffee and fruit) and a barbeque lunch, as well as free park passes for the entire family for the whole day. Pretty sweet set up, and they pulled it off famously. Our team-Little & Loud-had 25 walkers show up for the big day and we raised over $2000!! It takes so many volunteers to pull off a huge event like this, it is really humbling. Anyway, it is easy to crumple after everything leading up to the big day, and it was so comforting to have all of those strong arms around me to help hold me up through it all. It really does take a village to raise a child, and probably a few more villages to stand around the mama to hold her up on wobbly legs while she does her best to get everybody through it all.