A City of Rest(rooms)

This week my husband was out of town so it was just the boys and me holding down the fort. Our neighbor, Mr. Miyagi, came over the first night just to give our oldest a toy helicopter to keep him entertained. W loved this toy and it did keep him fairly busy. The next day, after dinner, he came over and asked if W could come out and play! He took him to the park and then they played baseball in the side yard between our two houses. I watched as I rocked baby B to sleep. Then, instead of coming inside, I saw the two of them go into Mr. Miyagi’s house. I thought that was extremely strange. About 5 minute, they came out with the Mrs. She handed W something and told him to have a good dinner. He came home with homemade rice noodles with pork and vegetables! It was insanely delicious. I asked W why he went into their house. He replied, “I had to use the restroom”. Sigh, this kid. This weekend David had a work an event in San Francisco so the Miyagis volunteered to take the boys and I around the town. I thought, after being trapped inside all week, this was a most excellent idea. We got up super early Saturday morning. I was wrestling the thought of taking the baby stroller or just to carry baby B in the sling. I hate pushing a stroller through a crowd and the last time I carried him there were no issues. I bit the bullet and decided just to carry baby B. W loves trains and really any sort of transportation. He was so excited as we told him we’d be taking the BART! He had to wear his train conductor hat, because, what excursion would be complete without dressing up in character? Both families met up and loaded the BART. When we got into the city it was time for most of us to use the restroom. We walked to the Ferry building and started to walk in to find the restroom before Mrs. M spoke up and said, “No, go up stairs. It is cleaner and there are no lines!” she was so right! We were the only women in the restroom and it was super clean! San Fran Hack! We me the men and grabbed some breakfast at one of the eateries in the Ferry Building. It was delicious! I love that I could have a glass of champagne, an amazing breakfast, and coffee that put your favorite coffee shop’s to shame all before 9:30! We departed ways from David and began our journey! We did the Wharf’s farmer’s market where Mrs. M said I HAD to have Acme Bread Company’s cranberry and walnut bread. She proceeded to buy me a loaf and tell me to use it for French toast. Can I just say, Mrs. M is a wise, wise woman?! W wanted to show Mrs. M the sea lions. We loaded onto a streetcar. Have you ever seen the Youtube video where it shows people from Hong Kong literally being stuffed into the subway? Well, that was practically the scene here! I was standing next to the driver as the sardine bus started to move. The car stopped at a street light about a block up. W, being over the crowd already, asks really loudly, “Are we there yet? We’ve been packed on this thing for far too long!” Since Californians do not talk while on public transportation, the entire car erupted in laughter. People who were sitting tried standing up to see who had said that. Yep…he belongs to me. We saw the sea lion. Notice I said “lion” and did not pluralize it? When we got there we only saw one. During the five minutes we stood there about four others showed up. Glad they got the memo because had they not I would have had one very disappointed 4 year old. As we were exiting the Wharf, I realized I needed to change baby B. I waited in the typical woman’s bathroom line until I noticed the changing station was not in a stall at all. I rushed over and began changing the diaper. No soon did I get the diaper off did I realize the woman’s bathroom was designed by a single male. The two women in stalls on either side of me tried to get out of their stall but since the changing table was down and their doors swung out they couldn’t get out. *insert wide eyed emoji* They had to wait for me to change baby B completely before they were able to even exit their stinking stall! We proceeded to ride several more modes of transportation throughout the day and saw so many incredible sites. We ended up meeting David in the lobby of the Metreon for sushi. It was time to use the restroom and change baby B again. I enter the stall to use the restroom. I sit down to begin business only to see a pair of nude nylons crumpled on top of the sanitary trashcan stuffed with toilet paper. Talk about having an embarrassingly bad day apparently. You couldn’t even put them in the trashcan? Instead, you needed your story told to the world via your nasty nylons? After lunch we headed back to the BART station and headed home. It was an amazingly fun day. We were finally off the BART and headed to our car when my husband accidentally stumbled into me and, thanks to having the super power that all mommas have of quick reflexes, I did an Irish jig jump over a pile of human feces. WoW! You didn’t think I would end on that note, but I did! * drops mic and walks away*

Nick Nolte's Doppelganger

Ah, the Midwest where your entire life’s existence could take place within a three mile radius. No, go ahead and laugh or scoff at this, but I am not kidding. Last summer on vacation we stayed at my parents’ house. I decided to go for a run. I made it to the grocery store and back and still did not meet my mileage goal for that day. My school and my church were one, the grocery I could ride my bike to, my summer jobs were seriously right down the street, and the University I graduated from with my Bachelors was only, maybe, two miles from my house growing up. The next “big” town over was about a 30 minute drive. Getting to any of these places did not require getting onto the high way. Ah, California where one must survive a traffic jam on a high way to simply run to the grocery. Yes, I know, there are back roads and I am learning to take them. The nearest town is probably 3 minutes, if that, away, but again, you are logging high way miles as well as community service hours you now have to serve due to your little outbursts of road rage each time. I feel that California is in many ways a country of its own. When we moved I knew I’d need to get my California driver’s license. I was a bit nervous. I know I am a good driver, but I hate taking tests. I always over think questions then end up getting them wrong. I studied for the driving test. I know, I’m a nerd. I did not want to be an adult and fail a computerized driving test. David came home from work and I left the boys with him as I drove, on the highway, to the next city’s DMV. I had gotten ready to be seen in public, which is the momma of a newborn’s way of saying, “I took a shower and had make-up on.” I had all my paper work in a folder when my number was called. The gentleman was super nice, even though the DMV was packed! It may have something to do with the fact that he had a Patriots decal in his cubical and I jokingly said, “Oh, you’re a Pats fan. I can wait.” He laughed hard and replied that he shared the cubical and that was not his. He did not like the Pats. I then told him we could be friends and he was welcome to dinner. Ends up I did not have the correct paper work for my marriage certificate so I have to put my maiden name on the license. The gentleman, Miguel as we are now besties, said we could hold the license until I had gotten the correct paperwork and I could still take the test that day. So that is what I did. There is a question, “Where can a motorcyclist drive? A) only on city streets B) three seconds behind the vehicle in front C) any part of the open road. Psh! I got this! I’d seen motorcycles on the highway just getting here. Now, “B” or “C”. Well, I remember the question about needing to drive three seconds behind the car in front of you and driving a motorcyle in the bike lane, uh that just isn’t safe. So, “B” it was! WRONG! Motorcyclists can drive anywhere! They can drive between cars, they can drive on “any part of the open road”. *Insert wide eyed emoji* Well, any way, that was the only question I missed! I got my picture taken and was done. Now, all I had to do was bring back my marriage certificate and I was set. A few weeks later, I went back to the branch closest to my house. I brought the baby with me and left our oldest at home with daddy. It had been a rough day, so no shower, brain frazzled, and I almost forgot my paperwork. As I walk in, my heart sank. I thought since it was almost the end of the day on a Friday the wait time would be minimal. WRONG again. I carry the baby in the car seat, as I did not want to have to wrestle paper work and a baby, to the back of the never ending line. Since I had plenty of time on my hands, I began looking around. I realized I was the minority and stuck out like a zit on a first date. Coming from the Midwest town I grew up in there was not a whole lot of diversity. There were so many conversations being had in so many languages, very few in English. Everything was labeled in at lest three different languages. It was kind of cool, to be honest. The people I was waiting with were super sweet! They were not your Disney World “out of town” tourists. They were not trying to get a piggy-back ride from me as they waited behind me and those in front of me would turn and make small talk. It was seriously a pleasant hour wait. I finally got my number and had a seat. I sat down and asked the gentleman next to me if he would mind if I put the car seat on the seat that separated us. His answer, “As long as it doesn’t fall.” What?! I gave him my Midwest smile and a “Thank you”. I sat for about 3 minutes, then baby B started getting fussy. I reach in the diaper bag only to realize, I packed the formula but not a bottle! It was 4:00 and he was ready to eat. I grabbed his seat and walked to the entry way and just started swaying with him. I seriously expected many people to give me a dirty look. However, it was the men who were cooing over baby B and talking to him to soothe him. The women were super sweet too don’t get me wrong. After making a few new besties from all parts of the world, my number was finally called. There was still an enormous line, longer than when I started, and it was now 4:30! I quickly walked to the cubical where a nice lady sat. I handed her my paper work and she responds with, “Oh, dear.” “What? Please, tell me that was an ‘Oh, dear, I love my job and will have to go home soon’ and not an ‘Oh dear, she doesn’t have all her paperwork together and has been waiting for an hour with a crying infant.’” “It was an, ‘Oh dear, she doesn’t realize she has to retake her photo.’” *insert wide eyed emoji* “What are your talking about? I got myself all cleaned up in the bathroom of the gas station across the street. You should have seen me before.” We had a good laugh. I thanked her for knowing that this was not what I looked like in public normally. It was time for the photo. “Look at the blue dot and smile,” she said. “Uh, not until you tell me that I don’t have random hairs sticking out all over the place. If my license turns out looking like Nick Nolte’s mug shot, I will blame you and bad talk you all over social media.” I said laughing. She was laughing and said that she would so not be telling her friends tonight over drinks about the whitest girl’s DMV visit she experienced today. DMV bestie number 37. Here is a preview of possible driver license photos that may make the cut.

Who Needs a Dog?

A few days ago a friend asked me how I was adjusting to California life. I gave the sweet, what you are expecting answer. “Oh, things are wonderful. California is beautiful and the weather is so nice. We have two parks close to us so we have plenty of ‘free’ fun.” As I was talking to my husband about my conversation with my new friend I was a bit more honest. “David, I do love it here. I love our weekends as a family when we go around exploring. But, David, I feel like a dog when you ask, “Is everyone ready?” as we get everything together for the car. I’m so excited to go for a car ride that when I get in I just want to hang my head out the window and shout ‘Hello’ at every stranger.” I felt like this was an excellent description of how I felt. I do not feel neglected, I do not feel lonely, I do not feel really any negative feels about being here. I simply find pleasure and excitement in the weirdest things, which sounds kind of sad really. I started to think of other things that I now find crazy pleasure in that I never really had before. Walking to the mail box, for example. It’s a small walk, but the scenery is absolutely beautiful. Taking out the recycling, organics, and trash is another. This gives me a sense of purpose like I’m one with Mother Earth and I am helping save the planet. Cleaning the house. There is nothing better than having a clean house. I was beginning to think I wasn’t in such bad shape. I’m not so pathetic. I’m good. I’m normal. Then I thought of one more thing that I occasionally do that makes me happy, going to Walmart. That is when it me, I am pathetic. Walmart? Really? *insert wide eyed emoji* And to top it all off, it is not even a Super Walmart, it is simply just an old school, dirty Walmart. I usually run in, smile nicely at the greater who wants me to take a cart, I mean REALLY wants me to take his cart, dodge the dude who wants to sell me a family portrait deal, walk quickly pass the Nathan’s Hotdog stand, grab formula and diapers, cut through the Tweety Bird and Winnie the Pooh outfits made for adult women, and quickly check out. I always get the same cashier. He jokes that my total will be something odd like $500 and I give a courtesy laugh back and say something like, “That sounds about right.” I jump back into my car, plug my home address back into my phone so I don’t get lost, and drive home. Sadly, after dissecting my Walmart runs, it still sounds fun. Sad, I know. Last weekend my husband told me that he wanted to take the kids and me into San Francisco. He jokingly said he would even roll down the window for me. Funny man, huh? I remember as a young adult going to Fisherman’s Wharf and seeing the sea lions. I knew that our four year old would love this. When we got to the Wharf it was so much bigger than I remembered! We must have walked, this is just an estimate, 85 miles! It was honestly so much fun. Our four year old was a champ! He was never carried, kept up with us as we walked and had an all around good attitude the whole day. It was time to eat. What do you eat when in San Fran? Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl, duh! We sat down outside and ordered. I had my chowder but also a tall cold beer. Not because it was a hot day in San Francisco, as we all know that does not even exist, but because it just sounded good. Baby was an angel. He smiled and cooed at everyone and sat on my lap while I ate. Then, the sky fell. Baby started screaming. I asked where the restrooms where and was lead, not directed, lead to the restrooms. I changed baby B who screamed the entire time. When I got back to the table David was signing our check and trying to get our oldest ready to move on. The wind blew and our check disappeared, the baby was screaming, David knocked over his almost emptied soda, and oldest was not helping. Once we finally got everything together, a busser asked me if I was done. I answered jokingly over the screaming baby, “Yes, everything but the beer. Momma needs this beer.” The man let out a loud laugh and sweetly said he thought I was holding it together very well. We struck up a conversation as I tried to quickly down my beer. We got to know each other on a personal level. He has two kids, 3 years, 14 months, and one on the way *chug, chug*. He and his wife have been married for 5 years. *chug, chug* They moved to the San Fran area about a year ago *chug, chug* and have loved it since. All this while my husband is trying to dry off the check, as it ended up in my water, and wrangle our four year old. *chug, chug* I had finally finished and had to say goodbye to my new soul mate. The day was wonderful. We got back into the car to head home. It was super quiet as we were all completely tired (you thought I was going to say “dog tired” to keep with the theme didn’t you? Well, you should have because that would have been creative) and finally letting the blood flow back through our bodies. David looks in the rear view mirror at me and whispers, so as to not wake the two passed out children, “You know, you’re not a dog but you are certainly my best friend.” Heart melted.

Growing Pains

There's an episode of Growing Pains where the egocentric Mike Seaver stays home sick from school. His mind is blown when he sees the school bus drive by and drop his neighbors off. His father says, "Yes, Mike, life goes on when you are not there." Well, crap. Life does go on when I'm not there. I love my friends and do realize that life goes on without me; it's just not supposed to be fun without me. I say this 97% as a joke and 3% seriously. I know my friends will have fun without me, they're just not suppose to have fun together without me. I was feeling a little lonely the other day and, of course, my poor husband got the brunt of my bad attitude. Well, that evening my friend FaceTimed me! I was just getting to go for a run, but a run can wait for a friend! I quickly answered with great excitement to see the face of my friend. He answered me back then I heard shouts of, "Hi, Kate!!!" I was so pumped! The gang was all there shouting hello to me! Wait...the whole gang was together having fun and I wasn't there? *insert wide eyed emoji* I felt like I was missing out on something amazing, because let's face it, when this group gets together it is nothing short of, dare I say, "epic". They all looked great! I loved seeing their faces and hearing them laugh as we joked around for those 40 minutes. After I hung up I felt rejuvenated and excited. I missed them as individuals and as a whole group. Several days later, I learned that half of the group was going on a trip together. Oh, the jealousy that flashed in my soul for a brief moment. I had to give myself a reality check. "Kate, 1) you don't live remotely close to them or where they are going. 2) You have two kids. It would cost you just as much in childcare. 3) You do not have to be apart of everything, they will NOT forget you. I think for any long distance relationship that is the biggest fear, being forgotten. Just to clarify: I love my friends and am uber pumped to hear about their vacations or nights out with each other. I quickly got over the jealousy, but it was a natural first reaction. I at times wish I could be put on FaceTime, set on a shelf, and simply just watch the hilarity that I know takes place!

Running From Aunt Bertha to Concept Cars

Women have a terribly skewed body image. Rarely will you meet a woman who thinks her body is smoking hot and loves trying on bathing suits when indeed her body resembles your Great Aunt Bertha’s whose image you have burned into your brain from that time in elementary you walked in on her in the bathroom. The image that encourages you to run a bit further, a bit longer, a bit anything more to ensure you are not her. Well, now, have a baby. Shoot, have two and try telling yourself you look fine in your suit. I’m three months out from having my second baby. I am extremely proud of my children, love my family, and am a happy person, so please don’t read too far into this blog, people. I have been trying to watch my calories, which I have never done before. My fit sister told me about an app called MyFitnessPal. You simply tell it how much you want to loose, plug in what you eat daily, and it will calculate your daily caloric intake and give you a count down of how many calories you have left to stay on track of your weight loss goal. I’m a bit competitive. I see that number and will do my darndest to stay under it! Your workouts are even calculated! I enjoy running and have decided to get back at it to help me meet my goal. Running here in California is ridiculous! Two years ago I had the privilege of participating in the Bourbon Chase in Kentucky. The Bourbon chase is a 200 mile race that takes place over 2 days with 11 of your friends. You run from distillery to distillery. It is amazing. However, the hills are killers. Coming from the Midwest, where it is flat and perfect conditions for running, the hills in Kentucky were evil. Here in California they make the evil hills of Kentucky look like guardian angles kissing the foreheads of little cherubs. They trick you too! They look beautiful. They have green vineyards that look Hollywood perfect. You begin your run. It’s surreal as you begin to realize, “I live here!” Immediately after that thought your thighs begin to burn, your buns begin to scream at you, and your shins begin to split. Congratulations, you’ve just made it to .02 miles on your TomTom watch. “Aunt Bertha. Aunt Bertha. Don’t be Aunt Bertha.” You push yourself through. It was during one of these runs I was on the last leg of my route. I was feeling good about myself. I had made it farther and a few seconds faster. As I ran through a residential part of my route a Bronco SUV passes by slowly. Well, hellooo, California and contact buzz. I swear this car was a concept car that would put Elon Musk to shame. Psh, battery powered car, not hippy enough. Meet the Marijuana powered car. Its fumes will relax you as it drives you to it’s destination. Californians don’t realize, we Midwesterners are not use to that smell just being out in the open at any time. When I got back home, my eyes felt as though they were bleeding. It was painful to breathe through my nose. I felt as though I had snorted lighter fluid! Oh the pain! My asthma was ripping my lungs apart! It wasn’t until an hour or so later when I still felt all this pain, that I realized it was allergies. California. New state, new home, new jobs, new allergies. Welcome. ch

A Generic Lesson

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before or not, but my love for food rivals Kim Kardashian's love of herself. Having one son who eats "human" food like a pre-pubescent boy going through a growth spurt and another who requires formula, which is not cheap, it is important and hard to keep the grocery bill on budget. Many of us have gotten generic brands to help with our budgets, tried them out, & decided eating cardboard/tasteless food is not worth the $.50 savings. Well, my husband brought home Safeway brand jelly the other day. *insert wide eyed emoji* Now, I don't mean to brag, but I'm what many would consider a peanut butter and jelly connoisseur. I dare you to test my pallet by putting any other type of peanut butter that is not Jiff Crunchy on my sandwich and try to pull that wool over my eyes. I'm a bit the same way with jelly. I adore Bonne Maman's preserves so you can imagine my "what are you thinking" expression and the way I drilled him with questions like a pimp would to a "working girl" who didn't turn in the right amount of money at the end of the night. Well, I caved. I was desperate. I have no car to drive myself to the store and I was hungry. I spread the generic jelly on my generic bread with the utmost contempt. I took the first bite. Then the second. Huh! This isn't so bad! It was actually pretty good jelly! Next, my ho of a husband dared bring home a generic pizza! Now, come on, David! You're pushing it! Again, I was desperate. I was hungry. I was cold and alone. So, the last part maybe a bit over the top, but you get it. I popped that sucker into the over and waited the 18 minutes. Loo and behold, that Safeway pizza was good! It fed the family! It was only $3! What is going on with this universe? Since these two experiences, we have been buying more generic brands and have been happy with each choice this far! Here's another California life hack for you: 99 Ranch. It is an Asian market that smells terrible & whose isles are uber narrow, however, they have amazing prices on proteins and other essential grocery items. Our 4 year old would live on fruit if we let him. Fruit is not cheap! At 99 Ranch it is! It is, honestly, 1/3 to 1/2 the price of other groceries and super fresh! Farmers' markets are another great place to get produce cheaply, or course. Your local town will usually have theirs on either Saturday or Sunday every week. If you are as lucky as we are, our town's is one day & our neighboring town's is the other so we don't have to spend our entire day going to Farmers' markets. California is expensive, but there are ways to cut corners without having to miss out of flavor or quantity, you just have to know where to look.

Ain't No Party Like a Finn Party!

Food. Everyone eats it. Everyone needs it. People who say they eat to live I find to be sad people. Food is meant to fill your stomach and your soul. There ain't no party like a Finn dinner party! Some of, no let's be real, the majority of my best memories with friends back home have been at a dinner party at our house. David and I have specific roles at a dinner party. David's is to cook, set the food out, and make cocktails. Mine is to straighten up the house before, be a hostess and open wine. I am super fortunate to be one of those women who married a man who loves to cook. David does not make simple foods. You'll never come over to a dinner party where he has made a casserole or, really, anything processed. It usually involves some kind of protein that has brazed for several hours, buttery goodness or bacon grease on fresh vegetables, and homemade from scratch everything else. Every weekend our friends could count on coming over and having a meal. "What can we bring?" Is a question those new to the circle of friends would only ask the first few times. They quickly learned what to bring, beer/wine, or dessert though we never had much room for dessert. The conversations had at these dinner parties were the kind that would make my stomach muscles hurt the next day due to so much laughing. They would be extremely random and lively. Now that we have moved across the county, we do not have that circle of friends to call over. We are starting from scratch. David invited Mr. Miyagi and his wife over for dinner the other night. The Miyagi's are very healthy people who do not eat red meat and do not eat after 6 pm. Anyone who has ever been a frequent weekend dinner friend is already laughing at this. "They don't eat red meat and don't eat after 6pm and they are going to the Finn's?! Ha! Ha!" Let me shed some light on this hilarity. David only cooks red meat and his meals are never done before 7:30pm. I don't know who was more excited our son or me. We were having people over and we were going to have fun! Since the night's guests live behind us and loves to garden, our son would stand at the window and shout, "Hi, ___!! Are you excited to come over? I am!" Later, "Hi, ___! Is your wife getting ready to come over?" Keep in mind it is only 2 in the afternoon. Well, they finally came over and David, knowing they did not eat red meat, made plenty of shrimp for them. Turns out, his dinner smelled so good, they opted for the meat! *insert wide eyed emoji* We got the semi vegetarians to eat red meat! I feel as though we were Lucifer's tools in the downfall of these fitness gods. We had such fun conversations and when the night was over, they walked out our back door to their own back door. We have only had one other person over for dinner and though it's always a good time, I still feel that void of my Midwest dinner party friends who crack me up into tears or are late night ninjas who quietly do the dishes when I'm not looking or bring over an incredible bottle of wine or outstanding dessert. But, I know that our dinning room and patio will soon be filled with eruption of loud laughter and desserts brought over by new friends!