Fantastic Friends

When we made our crazy-fast trip to Utah back in May, some of our good friends from the MBA program made the trek up to see us. Their kids are roughly the same ages as our kids, and they all get along with each other, so when we're together everybody has someone to play with.

It was a joy to see them and we look forward to seeing them again soon!

The West Coast

Instead of spending Saturday packing and cleaning, we did what any responsible person would do: we went to the beach. Oh wait, did I say responsible? I meant awesome.

Family picture

Bryan's family visited with us for a few days and joined us at the beach. You'll have to trust me on this as I seem to be lacking photographic evidence.

Sometimes when you run out into the waves, they knock you over, which will result in wet pants and a shocked expression.

The kids had a ball. They all ran into the ocean, fully clothed. We had brought swimsuits, but no one wanted to wait to put them on. Also, the wind was cold, and I suppose they thought wearing lots of wet clothes would be warmer than wearing a few wet clothes? We had a change of attire for everyone in the car, so it wasn't a big deal.

Sophie, in her long pants and long sleeves, was the only person adequately dressed for the wind.

This sweet baby loves the water. She loves baths and she loves bathroom sinks and now she loves the ocean.

Look! She touched the Pacific Ocean!

Now the plan is to visit the Atlantic Ocean sometime soon.

Moving Day

"Mom, these are Royal carpets. That means I'm a princess."

All Roads Lead To...

On Friday we had a pre-moving task that required a truck. My visiting teacher kindly lent us hers. When we were done we returned it, with Bryan driving the truck and me driving the van with all the kids. That's when the following conversation took place.

Cooper: Does Dad know where we're going?

Me: You know, Daddy has an amazing memory for where things are. He can remember how to get somewhere even if he's only been there once. It's kind of like he has a map in his brain. Cooper, I think you have a map in your brain too.

Cooper: Yeah, I do.

Phoebe: Yeah, I have a map in my brain too, but it only leads to Disneyland.

If the Shoe Fits

The kids finished swimming lessons yesterday. They all had lots of fun in the water and some of them even learned new things. Phoebe was promoted to the next level and the boys now know what they need to work on for next time. And I enjoyed getting a little time one-on-one with Sophie twice a week while the other kids swam.

Yesterday Peter got home from Cub Scout camp just in time to take a shower (he was very muddy) and grab his swimsuit. I looked at his mud-caked sneakers and asked if would wear his church shoes to the lesson. He said yes, then asked if he could wear my brown, gender-neutral flip-flops instead.

That's right folks, my eight-year-old has feet as big as my own. For the record, I have really small feet. I always felt a kinship to Cinderella for that very reason. But still, it's a little surprising that, in a pinch, he can wear my shoes. Don't worry, I won't let him wear any of my girly shoes. Phoebe has laid claim to those anyway.

And he has another ten years of growing ahead of him...

End of the Oregon Trail

On Monday we drove Peter down to his first day of cub scout camp (they were short one seat and I offered to fill the need). With the drive there and back and then down and back to pick him up, we were looking at three hours in the car. Instead, I Googled some fun stuff to do in the area and we made a day of it.

Cooper, Phoebe, Sophie, and I played at a nice park for a while, then went on a little nature walk. No one ran off and it was a very pleasant experience.

The big cool thing we did that day was visit the End of the Oregon Trail. The museum looks like three covered wagons, sans covers. We didn't actually go inside the museum though. The visitors center was free and had two things we really needed: a bathroom and a drinking fountain.

It also had a little corner with pioneer costumes for the kids to wear and pioneer games to play. Phoebe was in heaven and kept announcing that she was now a pioneer. We had a great time. I know I would have enjoyed the museum, and the kids probably would have too, but by this point in the day we were all hungry and tired, so we opted to finish walking the grounds and called it good. They each picked out a stick of candy "like the pioneers would eat," according to Cooper, and headed outside.

We walked over to a lovely garden and discovered a coblestone path and the stone marker announcing the end of the Oregon Trail. I wonder why that particular point is the end. Did someone announce, "I'm tired, and this place looks as good as any" and refuse to continue?

I told Cooper and Phoebe to stand by the plaque so I could take their picture. Phoebe turned to Cooper and said, "We're pioneers now, huh Cooper? It changed our lives forever." Then, after a moment of reflection, "Actually, no it didn't."

Once we were back in the car we talked a little more about pioneers. Phoebe told us, "Pioneers were good people. They didn't hit or kick or punch. Pioneers obeyed God." Indeed.

Happy Pioneer Day!

OMSI

We checked off another item from our to-do list on Saturday when we visited OMSI, the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry. One display had dinosaurs, both of the skeletal and animatronic varieties. The three big kids thought the robot dinosaurs were awesome, particularly when they roared and thrashed. Sophie was not a fan. She and Bryan ended up waiting in the hall while the rest of us walked through the exhibit.

Sophie found the kid-friendly Science Playground much more to her liking. She and I spent some time in the baby section playing with noisemakers.

The museum is built on the Willamette River, seen here out some of the windows. We didn't visit the exhibit parked in the river. For a higher admission fee and an hour of your time you can tour a submarine. I thought it looked cool, but an hour of telling the kids to "be quiet and stopping touching things!" didn't appeal to either me or Bryan. We opted to wave at the sub from the window.

The kids got hands-on in the Earth Science room. Most of the displays taught about environmentalism, which makes sense because that's a big deal in Portland. I think the kids liked this one mostly because they could get their hands dirty.

There was another room devoted to the life sciences. We walked in and saw a large display that was labeled "Prenatal Development." I distracted the kids with a giant model of an ear while Bryan took a turn through the exhibit to see if that was something we were comfortable taking the kids to. It was not. And that is all that I will say about that.

I'm glad we went so we don't have to wonder what we would have missed if we hadn't gone, but I also don't think we would go again, even if we weren't moving across the country. Between OMSI and the Portland Children's Museum, the latter was much cooler. Still, it wasn't a bad way to spend an afternoon.

Whittle Away

Peter went to his first-ever day of Cub Scout Camp yesterday. He had a grand time and reported that he got to shoot a BB gun (and then proceeded to explain the whole process, including how the gun works), make a button blanket (a piece of felt with buttons glued to it for no apparent reason), and whittle a bar of soap.

That last activity means that he earned his Whittling Chip, a small card that says Peter has earned the privilege to carry and use a pocket knife at certain Cub Scout activities.

Does anyone else find this completely terrifying?

A Place to Call Home

Bryan spent the week before my birthday in New Jersey, looking for a place for us to live. He drove by lots of properties in our price range and narrowed the list of potential homes. Then he and a real estate broker (because all rentals in New Jersey are handled by brokers) visited several properties. All of them were old and rundown and some had the lingering smell of a nursing home. He would send me pictures as he walked through the homes, usually capturing the scariest safety concerns in each place.

We have some friends here in Washington that used to live where we are moving to (the husband works for the same company as Bryan) and they encouraged us to look in one particular area. Unfortunately, nothing was available in our price range. Bryan kept looking.

The day before he was supposed to leave we found three potential houses. Two were in the coveted neighborhood; one was in Pennsylvania. Bryan had talked to several of his future coworkers who had assured him that the drive to and from the border of Pennsylvania wasn't at all bad, so we made appointments for all three properties.

The first was a recently built townhouse in the recommended area. It had several pros and was close to Bryan's work, but it had one major con: it was in pre-foreclosure. Once the bank took possession of the house they would be legally permitted to evict the tenants. We didn't want to move just to have to move again in a few months, so that got crossed off the list.

Next was the Pennsylvania house. It was farther than we had realized and the commute went from the long-but-doable 35 minutes to an hour. We kept that as a maybe, but there were some minor safety issues that we didn't love.

At this point in the day, Bryan was a few hours from his flight home. We talked about changing his travel plans so he could keep looking, but he really wanted to be home for my birthday. And, really, I wanted him to come home too. We decided he should look at the last house and we prayed, as we had been doing the whole trip, that he would find us a safe place to live.

The final appointment was at another townhouse, albeit a much older one, in the same good area. I knew what time the appointment was so I carried my phone with me, waiting for the usual pictures of safety offenses. Instead, he sent this picture.

I quickly responded and asked if they were members of the church. He answered, "Yes... They know (our friends that had moved from there). I'm getting it."

I whooped and cried and laughed all at the same time. The kids wondered what was wrong with me and I told them that we had found a house. My jubilation was short lived when I read Bryan's next message: lots of people had already applied to live there, there was a strong chance we wouldn't get it. The current tenant said she was good friends with the owner and would put in a good word for us.

Bryan met the broker at his office, signed the application, and rushed off the catch his flight. The only reason he made it was because the plane had been delayed by more than an hour. When he arrived home we had no idea if we had been picked for the house.

All day on my birthday we wondered about the outcome. After we applied I kept praying and was answered with a feeling of peace. It wasn't a "yes, you'll get the house" answer, but more of a, "don't worry, it will work out as it should."

The next day we were on our way to the Portland Children's Museum when the call came. We got the house! Bryan pulled over and we said a family prayer of thanks and shed relieved tears of joy. The house is older, yes, but it's only five minutes from Bryan's work. And it's safe. And it's within our price range. And we feel like we have been the recipients of a miracle.

One week from today movers will arrive at our house in Washington to pack our belongings. The next day they'll load everything into a truck and we'll wave a temporary goodbye to the majority of our possessions. Then we will begin our 3,045 mile trek across the country. Thankfully, we have a home waiting for us at the end of our journey.

Caring, Sharing*

*Name the song.