I have a teenager

I'm late in posting this, because I think it took me this long to get over my denial.  

I have a teenager.  When my parents had a teenager, they were old.  But, I'm not old.  

(Let's not bring up the fact that Kate was born when I was five years older than my parents.)  

So, I just don't understand.

I also realized something recently.  I first met Dave's mom when I was in college.  

Dave was 21.  That means his mom was 42.  

I am 42.  

That means that I am now the same age Dave's mom was when I met her.  

But, like my parents were when they had a teenager, Dave's mom was old when I met her.  

I need to stop thinking about this.

Here's my teenager.  The best teenager ever.

And here she is with her friends, some other pretty awesome teenagers.

Style

A few months ago, I had a book club discussion at my house about a book on raising adolescent girls.  Some of the other moms talked about how their children were embarrassed about what they wore or asked them to not wear certain things.  I was surprised, and I was grateful that my own kids never did something like that.  

Well, Kate and Anna (my two adolescents) still haven't, but Ally... she must be advanced for an eight year old.

I put on my "night walking vest" (since we have no street lights and I'm afraid one of us will be killed) to walk with her over to school for Folk Dance Night, and Ally motioning to the vest asked, “Um... uh... what are you going to do with THAT when we get there?”  

I, of course, told her that I would take off my coat and wear it over my clothes once we arrived.  

Then, I told her I thought we (or at least I) looked so good it warranted a selfie.

Super Anna

Anna didn't want to go to school.  She was trying to eat breakfast, teary eyed, frustrated, and looking like she dreaded the coming day.  I made her some tea and sat down and waited for her to tell me.

She said, "The work’s not hard, and the homework... I can deal with it.  What I can’t deal with is how much better than other kids that some kids think they are!"

I braced myself and asked, "Are people teasing you, honey?"

"No, but I hear it.  I hear what they say about other kids," I was relieved and then immediately ashamed of my relief.  It's not better that it's other peoples' kids getting teased.  

Anna continued, "I used to hear it last year with _______.  Then I’d go over and say, 'That’s not true.'   With other kids, they’re quieter, but with  _______ they act like he doesn’t have feelings.  But he does have feelings!"

I said, "Anna, you know why this bothers you?  God wants it to bother you, because it's your job to be those kids' Super Hero."

I told her a little bit about how I got teased and how a few kids helped me get through the day.  They were my Super Heroes.  I didn't tell her everything, because it would have broken her heart to know that every single school morning for five years, I had to work up the courage to go to school again, wondering how it was possible to survive one more day.  I didn't tell her that without those few nice gestures from those few kids I might have went through with killing myself.  I just told her those kids few nice kids were my Super Heroes.  And that is true.  They were.  And, I think it's also true that she will be a Super Hero for some kids in her school.

Socks and home invaders

I bought an advent count-down pillow today.  It's got a little Santa that you move from pocket to pocket to count down.

Ally was looking at it and commented that it was only a month and nine days until Christmas.  This got her thinking and she asked me,

"When are we getting the socks out for that guy?"

I looked at my fully functional 8-year-old who had just asked me this, and said, "Ally, the way you asked that question... it doesn't even deserve an answer."

Everyone started giggling and Luke said, "St. Nick!  When are we putting the socks out for St. Nick?"

I said, "Closer..."

So, Anna helped out.  "Stockings.  When do we put the socks out for St. Nick?"

I begrudgingly answered, "He comes the night of December 5th."

My goodness.  Socks?  That guy?  Why do we bother?  ;)

Poop

The other day, we were all in the kitchen having breakfast when Dave said, "I was thinking.  There's so much dog poop out there."

I interrupted, "I know!  It's crazy!  I pick up like eight piles of poop every other day!"

Dave continued, "So I was thinking... Why are we doing this ourselves?"

Then Anna and I both knew exactly what he was getting at, that the kids should help out.  But, Anna got a mysterious little smirk and declared, "I agree!  We should hire someone."

Ally and Riley

Ally has had a temper since day one.  She's learning to control it, and I'm sure there will be times when her ferocity will serve her well, but sometimes she still has her angry outbursts and sometimes they are really funny.

Ally was playing with Riley, who she adores.  Ally sometimes just looks at her and marvels how cute she is.  Ally will comment, "I love how long her neck is.  It's so cute!"

But, when Ally was playing with her, Riley got a little too wound up and knicked Ally's hand with her puppy teeth.  Ally was so angry.  I could see her temper flaring.  Ally looked at the puppy, looked at the long neck that she finds so cute, and decided to insult her, to get revenge for the scratch on her hand.

"You look like a goose!" Ally yelled at Riley.

Oh, Anna!

This fall, I enrolled in a Parent Coach training program to get some new approaches to use when working with families.  We had to read four books for the program.  Since I'm a slow reader, I was constantly carrying one or more of the books and a highlighter with me to try to read the weekly assignments.

One night, we were all getting ready for bed and I carried a book with me and set it on the bathroom counter to help Ally wash her hair in the shower.

A naked Anna appeared in the bathroom and announced, "It's working!"

"What's working?" I asked.

"Your book.  I got my room clean and got ready for my shower without being asked!"

Still confused, I followed her gaze and saw the book titled, "Motivate Your Child."

Parent coaching

I absolutely love teaching parenting classes, and, although I wouldn't have thought it possible, I love parent coaching even more.

I originally wanted to teach because I wanted to be able to help children have better childhoods by better equipping their parents with tools of how to raise them.  And, I certainly find that fulfilling.

I also love helping the parents, by giving them new techniques, putting their minds at ease when they think they're messing everything up, and showing them how to enjoy their kids more.

But, there's also something more.  I have always been someone who finds small talk hard.  This type of frivolous surface conversation doesn't come naturally to me at all.  I want to delve deep with people, know what they're really thinking and feeling, and share my thoughts and feelings.  I want to get to really know them and the things they're struggling with intimately.  I get to do this, often, within the first ten minutes of meeting parents when I work with them.

And, if I'm honest, I love to tell people what to do.  (I'm sort of kidding... but not entirely.)  I'm a first born girl.  And, I'm a total control freak.  I've spent my entire adult life working to tone things down and trying to remember that I don't actually have all the answers for how everyone should live their lives...  but I get to give all the advice I could possibly want to when I'm coaching.  And, I get paid for it.  What!?  Most people have to spend money to get to do something they find so darn satisfying!

All these things, and on top of it, I sometimes have people write me emails and tell me how much I've helped them.  I got another one this afternoon.  Every single time, these emails bring tears to my eyes.  I truly feel so blessed to be able to do this.



Yesterday evening, I was having my last session with a young couple.  After working together the last couple months, we were really comfortable with each other.  I was giving an example about getting their three-year-old to put on his pajamas.
Dad:  I have gotten into such a habit of saying "pajahmas," because it rhymes with llamas.
Me:  Oh, Llamas in Pajamas
Dad:  Yep.
Me:  I suppose you could also say "llæmas"
For a split second I think, Oh, Kristal, no one is ever comfortable enough with clients to make such a stupid joke.  But, the dad doesn't miss a beat.
Dad: Yeah... I don't think they would like that.
Me:  (laughing) The llamas?  Yeah, you're probably right.

Apple picking

I've always loved apple picking.  Today it was even more fun with one of Kate's friends and our two dogs along!

Snitker Goldens

A few months ago, I was told someone that Finley was an English Cream Golden Retriever.  Later,  Anna said, "I thought Finely was a Snitker Golden."

I explained that Finley was from a breeder that is named Snitker Goldens, but the breed of dog they is called English Cream Golden Retriever or sometimes European Goldens.

Anna looked sheepish and replied, "I've told everyone for ever that Finley was a Snitker Golden."

I said, "Well, she is..."

And Anna said, "Yeah, but I always thought that was her breed."

I think they did some good marketing.  "Snitker" has stuck in all my kids heads.

Yesterday, Luke had his friend Patrick over to meet Riley.

They sat under the table, in one of Riley's two favorite spots, petting her.  Patrick asked if Riley was a lab and Luke explained, "She's a lab, a golden retriever..."  He thought for a moment, trying to remember the German Shepherd part, and finished, "...and a snickerdoodle."

We're not sure what she'll look like as an adult,
but we think something like this.

Meet Riley

This is Riley.  She's the latest Melbye.

Yesterday, we drove up to Solu Winery to pick grapes in their vineyards.  I've never picked grapes, and I thought it would be a fun experience.  When we arrived, there was a woman sitting outside with three puppies.  I can never resist a little puppy love, so I went over to snuggle them.  We learned they were from a Golden Retriever-German Shepherd mom and a White Labrador dad.

The puppies dispositions were so sweet and calm.  I asked if they were all claimed.  Two weren't.  One boy and one girl.

Dave looked at me like, "Why not?"

I was like, No. Dave's role in this relationship is (and has always been!) to prevent our home from becoming a modern day Noah's Ark.  He knows better than to give an inch on this.

I asked the lady for her information, and told everyone we were going to go pick grapes.  We had to get out of there before we did something crazy.

We always wanted to get a second dog when Finley was maybe eight or so.  She's only five, but Dave really wanted a lab-like dog and these dogs had amazing temperament.  I told Dave if he didn't stop me, we were getting a second dog.  He didn't stop me.

We discussed names.  I wanted to name her Lark, but that didn't go over well.  Anna loved Birdy, and so did I, but Dave despised the name.  We thought about going back to our favorite name Bailey, since we never really got to use that, but we were worried that had a bad connotation associated with it.  When we talked about Bailey, Kate brought up Riley, and we all liked it.  But, I wasn't ready to settle, so I said, "Maybe Riesling, since we got her from a winery?"  Dave said, "Yes, we'd call her Reese!"  Everyone kind of liked it, but I didn't think it was that easy to say...  and didn't love ending on the sss sound.

When we were playing with her in the vineyard, we got a text from the breeder asking if we were still there, because her son really wanted to say goodbye because "Lucy" was his favorite.  We went to look for her and told someone, "We're looking for Sarah."  He said, "They're over there.  They're waiting for Riley."  It turned out, Reilly is her son's name.

And now his favorite little pup is also named Riley.

When I went to go get Riley and bring her back.

Dave and his new baby

Anna and Riley

Kate and Riley

Riley resting on the way home

Finley loves her new sister

Before-school snuggle.

Finley is teaching Riley how to play

Riley went for a little ride on this game of tug

Tornado

Even a week later, it all seems so surreal.  

I grew up watching Wizard of Oz at my Grandma Hertel's house.  It was my favorite movie, but I never thought I'd actually experience being in a tornado. (Spotting the one in Wyoming as we were driving through last summer was closer than I ever thought we'd be.)

Less than an hour before the storm came last week, I was making jokes.  Our cottage neighbor, Jenny, texted us as we volunteered at the boat launch across the lake and said, "There's a tornado warning."  Since we'd learned by Googling in Wyoming last year that it's no longer recommended that you lie in a ditch as it was when we were kids, I joked, "Don't worry, we're all lying in a ditch." 

Driving back to the cottage from the launch, Anna was nervous about the coming storm.  We've been trying to teach her that storms aren't scary since she got scared by some storm videos in class last year.  I explained, "It looks like there is a thunder storm coming, but there is not going to be a tornado.  If a tornado is coming, it gets really still and kind of yellow.  It is not at all still or yellow."

When we got back, we covered the boat and I patched up our grill cover so the grill wouldn't get drenched in the rain.  Then we got ready to watch the storm from our covered deck while the kids played.   I brought down a drink and the neighbor kids came over.  Tim and Jenny were doing some last minute things before they came over to join us.  It started to rain.  I got out my phone to video it, because it was raining really hard and it was pretty windy.  I commented to the kids, "Look at everything that is blowing."

Suddenly, I realize it wasn't a normal thunderstorm.  I told the kids to get in the house.  Then in an instant, huge branches and unknown debris began to whip past the deck.  I screamed for the kids to get inside and rushed them in the opposite corner of the basement from where the wind was coming.  

I looked out the basement window and watched as our boat lift collapsed onto our boat.  I saw Tim and Jenny's boat lift out of their boat lift their boat lift collapse into the water like it was made of balsa wood.  I called Jenny to tell her that her kids were safe and see what we could do about their boat.  She said there was nothing to do right now.  

I got the kids a board game to play, and when things settled down, I looked out and saw that our grill had blown 15 feet away and was smashed on the ground(but the cover was on nice and snug after my tape job!) and five of the neighbors trees were pulled out by the roots and toppled sideways.

I remember thinking this was all going to be a big pain to try to fix.  We were supposed to have three of the kids' friends up to go on the boat the next day.  We had no way to get the boat out, so I started texting, "I think we might have been at the edge of a tornado.  Our boat lift collapsed... I don't think we'll be able to have Sasha up tomorrow."

A bit later, we went upstairs to check Dave's car.  Over the garage we saw the hill behind our house had a straight line of trees that were completely destroyed.  That's when I realized the tornado had come down the hill, miraculously missed our garage and house, and resumed itself at our boat lift.  I was no longer annoyed by all the clean up but incredibly grateful that we were all protected during the storm.

It took just a minute and a half for our boat lift and pier
to go from the above picture to the picture below.

First day of school 2018-2019

Another summer break has ended.

Anna joins Kate in middle school.  Middle school.  What?

Here the big girls are, off to middle school... did I mention I have two kids in middle school?

And here the twins are before they head to third grade.  They get to be in the same class this year.  They are really excited about that.

They all survived their first day, but Anna's not sure she's a fan of her new school situation.

My lovely, lovely garden

We moved to this house ten years ago.

Every year, my garden experience frustrated me.  

At the old house, I had a nice sunny garden in the corner of the yard with asparagus and strawberries every spring and loads of cucumbers, zucchini, and tomatoes (along with some experimental crop) later in the summer.

But at this house, the garden was always out of control.  I had a good amount of land behind the garage, but it was wet well into June, so everything had a late start and the soil would be clumpy from the excess moisture.  I could never get the soil how I wanted it, despite working in organic matter for nearly a decade.  We would always put up some random fences, but the animals would always make their way right into the garden anyway.

I've always said I wanted raised beds.  Dave always kind of nodded, hoping I'd let it go.  Then last year, the owners of a house down the block built beautiful raised beds and then that same year, they moved.  I wrote a letter to the new owners offering to buy the beds off them in they weren't interested in gardening, but I never heard from them

So, this April, I began researching and drawing up plans to finally have the garden I'd dreamed of.  I planned all the beds sizes and made a materials list.  Then I planned the fence of my dreams and made a materials list for that, as well.  I told Dave my plans and he said he'd help.  I told him he didn't have to...

Thank goodness he did.  If not, I'd STILL be working on building it.  It was a LOT of work, and a LOT of lifting.  (I'm not good at lifting.)

We spent a day buying lumber and another day building the beds.
We added two corner brackets on each corner so the beds should last longer.

We had TONS, literally over six tons, of compost and gravel delivered.

We dug down into the ground to level each of the beds.
Then we stirred up the soil that was already in there
and added a bit extra from what would be the paths.
Then we added a weed barrier all around the beds.
We also dug holes for the fence posts and cemented them in.

We hauled the tons and tons of compost and gravel.

We started to attach the cross beams and chicken wire to the fence posts.
You can see in these pictures why water was always a problem in the garden in past years.

The fence is done!

Grateful to this guy for all his muddy hard work.

We built the gate.

Here's an areal view taken with Dave's new toy.
(How can you tell a guy who builds this with you that he can't have a drone?)

My plans for what to plant and how to run the drip hoses for watering.

I added one more bed for herbs. 

Winter squash is starting to grow.

Cucumbers and peas

Our salsa bed: tomatoes, peppers, onions, and cilantro

The garden is great!
We're so, so happy with all the veggies and we love sharing them
with our little friends who have visited this summer, too!
This guy carried a cherry tomato around All. Day. Long.
We told him to try eating one,
but he took it back out of his mouth and offered it to Kate.

This guy was also picking champ.  And he also did not enjoy eating them.

Look at what we picked in just one day!

I'm so, so, so happy with my new garden.