Lego Maniacs

Buddy is at the "obsessed with legos" age. He spends time every day working on cool designs. For months we tried to keep the baby and the legos separate because the little one has a real tendency to put small things in his mouth. But that was not working. For one thing, he does whatever Buddy does. But mostly, it became clear that he had a real knack for legos himself and once we gave in and let him play too, he would spend more time than Buddy building things. Right when he wakes up in the morning he runs to the lego bin to start building. Its fascinating watching his chubby baby hand build. Buddy always comes to show me his creations and of course I "ooh and aah." So Sambo has learned to do the same thing. He'll hear me telling Buddy how awesome his boat is, so Sambo will quickly stack a few legos together and come and show me. Of course he's grinning ear-to-ear because he's super proud of himself.


It'll be fascinating to see what this little obsession develops into. Sambo's birth family is made up of several fairly well-known artists and already we're amazed at the agility of his hands. Nobody in this family has hands that work like his, that's for sure. So it's curious to think about if his interests come from his genes or from watching his older brother. Or a combination of the two.


Most mostly its fascinating to see the two boys working together to create something. They have such different personalities and abilities, so they make quite a team. Luckily Buddy doesn't usually mind too much when Sambo's talent for breaking legos comes into play.

I'm not exactly sure why in all of these pictures Buddy is wearing pajamas. He's sick today, so that explains the top pictures but the others were taken last week. Weird. I guess he didn't get dressed that day either.

Thanks

Thanks for being on the same page with me in all matters big and small concerning our family.

Thanks for cleaning out the garage and the trash when they reeked really bad after the whole freezer incident.

Thanks for changing your plans after I told you how much is in our checking account and how badly I want that canner on craigslist.

Thanks for letting me kick your trash at the gym. (just kidding)

Thanks for mowing/making the lawn look so awesome.

Thanks for vacuuming the wood and the stairs.

Thanks for helping with the dishes every night you are home.

Thanks for learning what my love language is and being willing to accept it. Since I'm still unwilling to accept yours. (just kidding)

Thanks for taking me out on a legitimate date tonight for the first time in what? Six months? Because if I don't get out minus kids soon, I think I just might harm someone.

Thanks for sending that awesome email to that opposing counsel. Considering what an idiot (and that's putting it mildly) he is and how he was trying to bully you to make himself look better, your response was perfect. I would have just emailed him back "boo-ya."

Thanks for providing for our family.

Thanks for never complaining when you have to work late twice in one week, plus go in early for meetings, plus go to Bend overnight and get up early for two presentations there, plus get up early for meetings on Sunday -- all in one week. Meanwhile I complain if I have to get up early once or twice in a week.

Thanks for making extremely awkward phone calls for me so that I don't have to get too stressed out.

Thanks for going to Woodburn with me. When I suggested I go alone so I could get away, you suggested we all go so you could spend time with me on your rare night home.

Thanks for buying me Burgerville twice in one week. Holy cow they have some really good "seasonal" treats right now.

Thanks for im'ing me all day long.

Thanks for being willing to forgive and for being patient as I struggle to learn how.

Thanks for listening to my long-winded recounting of every single thing that happened that day.

Thanks for pretending my day was way worse than yours even though there's no way it's true. How can going to the fair/swimming all day be that bad (even if I was cleaning up poop the whole time?)

Thanks for thinking our boys are as darling as I do.

Thanks for being willing to teach the boys important things.

Thanks for being gracious when it's obvious they like you way more than they like me.

Thanks for finishing that garage project. Even when I stopped helping months ago because it was annoying me so much.

Thanks for getting off the couch every time I ask for a drink or treat.

Thanks for removing all those overgrown and ugly shrubs from our yard.

Thanks for making my happiness and our marriage number one in your life.

I love you. Can't wait to hang out tonight.

20 Minutes

I had the most interesting day yesterday. By the time you're done reading this you're going to really wish you were a 'fly on the wall' to really witness all of this first-hand.

When I woke up this morning had a list of housework I needed to get done: fold several loads of laundry, mop, clean three bathrooms, get the boys to clean their bedroom and playroom, and much more. I couldn't bare the thought of working, so I put on a new skirt and got too dressed up to clean. Because if I went through the trouble to get dressed up, apply make-up, do my hair I certainly couldn't clean all day. I sort of wanted to take the boys the zoo instead. We’ve done lots of fun things this week and I’ve totally neglected responsibility, so going to the zoo was totally impractical, not to mention Sam wouldn’t get a nap if we went.

After a visit/meeting with a wonderful friend and our new relief society president in the morning, I asked the boys if they would rather clean all day or go to the zoo. Buddy informed me my friend's two children spent the entire time they were here cleaning our upstairs. I went upstairs and was totally in shock to find his room picked up, bed made, and the playroom totally spotless too. I had a pile of towels on the floor in the hall that needed to be folded and they were in a neat pile.

A few minutes later we were in the car.

20 Minutes: Time spent looking for a parking space.

When we arrived at the zoo it was terribly busy. Last week we attempted the zoo, drove around forever looking for parking, and we ended up leaving and playing at the park instead. The boys were disappointed last week, (the same exact thing happened earlier in the summer...) so I just couldn’t do that again to them today.

20 Minutes: Time spent staring at the guy holding a turkey vulture.

Buddy was disappointed to learn the bird shows had been canceled for the day. But we quickly realized that a zookeeper was holding a turkey vulture for kids to look at up close. As other children came and went and asked a question or two each, Buddy stood and stared and asked question, after question and offered comment after comment.

20 Minutes: Time spent using a stick to play with the penguins.

When we got to the penguin exhibit, Buddy had a small bamboo stick in his hand. He put it near the glass and two penguins quickly swam over and followed it wherever Buddy moved it. Buddy and Sambo got quite a kick out of this game and soon their laughter attracted quite a crowd. Who knew that penguins are that social?

2o Minutes: Time it took me to calm down after a random lady yelled at Buddy.

Buddy was minding his own business, peering into the tidepool exhibit. He had his same bamboo stick in his hand and some ornery lady (not a zoo employee) came up to him and shouted at him not to hurt the sea life with his stick. Obviously she had no way of knowing Buddy's love of animals and that he would NEVER harm one intentionally. But still. He wasn't doing anything wrong, so I jumped to his defense and said some sort of sarcastic comment to her about me appreciating her trying to parent my son. She got super defensive, so I told her that maybe she shouldn't worry so much about what everyone else is doing -- and that I wasn't the slightest bit worried about him looking at the animals while holding a stick. I love it when people assume that since I look young I don't have any control over my kids. And that I'm not going to stand up for them when they are mistreated.

20 Minutes (times 3): Time spent at the sea lions.

Despite the crabby lady, we had a really fun time and were just about to leave but had stopped off at the sea lions on our way out. We usually hit the sea lions near the beginning because they are a favorite, but Buddy had to go to the bathroom, so we bypassed them early on.

Anyway, I was starting to walk away to leave when Sambo's birthmom walked by. She saw me and just lit up. She said she was there with all of her sisters and her dad, who was visiting from Utah.

Now, we just saw her last week because her sister, boyfriend and their daughter are visiting for 2 weeks from New York. They had never met Sambo and really wanted to meet all of us. We had a really fun visit a week ago but she mentioned that her dad was coming to visit with his wife and that she really wanted him to see Sambo too. She figured he wouldn’t be open to it (he isn’t supportive of the openness of our adoption, among other things.). I told her that if he changed his mind, I’d be totally fine with that. I didn’t give it another thought, though.

So our chance meeting at the zoo was quite a shock. We spent about an hour hanging out with them casually there by the sea lions. Her dad was actually thrilled to see us. He was so warm to me and just couldn’t believe how big Sambo had gotten and how darling he is (he saw him and us when Sambo was born and he was extremely cold and short with us then). You should have seen the look of pride and joy in his eyes.

I'm calling this run-in a miracle. It was important for Sambo's birthmom to have her dad meet us. She was heart-broken during placement that he wasn’t supportive. However, her dad was uncomfortable with a formal visit. So I felt inspired, if you will, to go to the zoo. And our random meeting was perfect. No awkwardness in the least. But rather love and genuine concern for each other.

20 Minutes: Time Sambo spent napping on the train.

(I look ridiculous in this picture!)

Her dad had bought tickets for their big group to ride the train, but asked us if he could give them to us for the boys to enjoy. Buddy was quick to take him up on that offer. After we said our goodbyes with them, we boarded the train. Within a few minutes, Sambo was asleep, though.

20 Minutes: Time spent cleaning up Sambo's dinner mess.

When we got home I warmed up leftover pesto. Oh my gosh, Sambo made a big mess. He recently has been bothered by dirty hands, so he wipes them on his shirt or his hair to get them clean. So by the end of dinner, he looked like he'd been swimming in a bog. He was covered in green from head to toe.

20 Minutes: Time spent cleaning out the bathtub.

Because of his mess during dinner, I had to give him a bath, despite my better judgement. He poops anywhere from 2-4 times a day, and he had only pooped once that day. So I knew it was risky. Sure enough, within minutes of his bum hitting that warm water, we had a huge mess on our hands. I've now learned that showers are my preferred method for him, even if he cries uncontrollably because he's scared to death. Too bad. At least I don't have to scrub out poop several times a week.

20 Minutes (times 2): Time spent talking with Buddy in bed.

Boy was I glad to get him to bed! G was out of of town, so I promised Buddy he could sleep in bed with me. As I was kissing Buddy goodnight, he asked me if we could talk about Sambo's adoption. Last week when we saw Sambo's birthmom, he asked me to talk to him about his own adoption and he asked some really amazing questions then. So I was happy to lay down, snuggle with him, and answer his most recent questions. Our conversation was just precious. I love his active mind and his amazing ability to understand concepts that are way beyond his years. Although, he certainly gives me a run for my money when it comes to answering!

Here's a sampling of some of his questions and some of my responses.

Buddy: I want you to tell me about Sambo's adoption.
I shared the brief-version of Sambo's birth and placement. I reminded him of the first time they met.

Buddy: How did he come out of his birthmom?
He now knows what a vagina and a c-section are. (He just wouldn't let that question go, and this is not the first time he's asked. Yikes!)

Buddy: How bloody was Sambo's birthmom?
Buddy: How bloody was Sambo?
He was fascinated by the details of the c-section.

Buddy: I really would like another baby in this family.
He now knows we'd like to adopt again. He is certain our next baby is a girl. Why will our next baby be a girl?
Buddy: Because we have enough boys around here.
He likes the names Bella and Christy but he also likes one of the two names I've picked out. The other he said was ugly.

Buddy: How are we going to find another birthmom? We should ask Jesus to give Sambo's birthmom another baby.
When I told him that probably wasn't a good idea, he had another idea.
Buddy: Maybe we should just pray that Jesus tells us who our baby's birth mom should be.

Buddy: Is Sambo's birthmom in our family?
No, but she's a really special person who we love and think about a lot.

Buddy: How did Sambo get made?
What do you mean?
Buddy: How did he turn into a baby inside of her tummy?
You mean, how did Jesus make Sambo? (I figured he had already learned enough about the birds and the bees for one evening so I re-directed his thinking a bit.) Jesus created his blood and his body and his spirit.

Buddy: I'm going to practice making blood.
That won't work because you're not Jesus. At this point I said he could have three more questions and then it was time for bed.

Buddy: What happens when baby's don't get sealed to their families?
Long explanation of why his birthmom placed him for adoption and how strongly I believe in the temple.

Buddy: Can you tell me more about birthmoms?
Birthmoms are brave and they love their babies so much they want them to have the best life possible. They think about their babies all the time and are proud of all the things they learn and do.

Buddy: I don't know all the questions to ask. Can you tell me what else I need to know?
Crying started when I broke the news that I had to leave so he could go to sleep. But I'd return to snuggle with him more when I was ready for bed...

What's Been Happening?

We've been up to all sorts of fun this week. Summer is almost over and I've been trying to cram as much as possible into our last few days of freedom (from school). Plus, I'm painfully aware that keeping the boys cooped up in the house puts me in a bad mood, so I've been trying to keep them busy and wear them out. By last night (Wednesday) I was so dog-tired I could hardly see straight. However, my boys still have a ridiculous amount of energy. I don't understand that!

This week:

We went swimming twice. Sambo has started a habit of pooping every time he swims/spends too long in the warm bath. So I know that taking him swimming is really risky. This week he pooped once in the pool and once in the bath. It was 100 degrees yesterday, so I had to do something with the kids to keep us all cool so I tried the pool again. Thankfully the stars aligned and he managed to control himself in both the pool and the bath later that night!!!!

I wanted to do a class at the gym after the kids swam for a few hours, so I bought them hotdogs for dinner at the snack bar there at the pool. Sambo is a certified pig (well, they both are actually) and even though he eats constantly, he is still so small. He is also 1/8 Japanese, so G and I are guessing he's going to a competitive eater one day just like the awesome Kobayashi. We've joked about him being our little Kobayashi. I kid you not, while he was eating his hotdog last night, he started dipping his hotdog in water before he took a bite. Part of me wasn't at all surprised...

We've also been berry picking twice this week: blackberries yesterday and blueberries today. Buddy picks blackberries in the neighborhood all the time, so it was old news for him. But Sambo was thrilled. Usually when we berry pick I keep him securely strapped in his stroller so I can work and not have to chase him around. So yesterday was a real treat for him. He braved the brambles and ate quite a few. Neither boy collected any berries in their bowl, but instead filled it with rocks. Most got spilled on the walk home, but there were a few left we we got home.

Today we set out for blueberries and drove all the way to the farm only to realize I had left my wallet home. So I drove home to get it and when I was almost home I noticed a motorcycle cop on the sidewalk up ahead. I slowed down as did all the other cars. Next thing I know, he was pulling me over. I was certain I wasn't speeding but of course panicked at the thought of trying to explain that the whole reason I was driving home was to get my wallet/driver's license.

He was nice and explained that tomorrow is carseat safety awareness day so they've been pulling people over with kids in the car to check their carseats -- to see if they are installed properly and to make sure children are riding in the proper carseats for their age/size. Luckily mine were, although he gave me a few tips for making them safer. Thankfully, he never even asked to see my driver's license. You should have seen poor Buddy panicking in the backseat. He already worries about having his seatbelt on and riding in a carseat, etc. Buddy spent the rest of the morning apologized profusely for "making me get in trouble with the police" and he was so relieved I "didn't have to go to jail" or "get a ticket." If only that officer knew how petrified he made both of us! So just so you know, if you have children in the car, the police are watching you...

Buddy has also been attending "Kinder Readiness" at his new school this week. It's a 2-hour class each day to get the kids (and the parents) ready for school. He learned to stand in line, listen, raise his hand, and they did several arts and crafts projects. While we both were super nervous for him to go, we both feel a lot better about the start of school now. He actually really enjoyed everything about it, but surprise, surprise, he LOVED recess the most.

While I was picking him up today, I went to the office to ask a few questions because I'm clueless about how everything school-related works. I don't know if he'll go in the am or pm, when school starts, what time I need to be up and ready if he does go in the morning, how it works if he rides the bus, etc. I'm so glad I asked, because it turns out school doesn't start until September 10th, a few days later than I thought. So that's good news at least!

Every day when I pick him up, I ask him all sorts of questions. On the first day I asked him if he raised his hand when he had a question. Meaning, did he raise his hand or did he blurt things out. He said he raised his hand to ask when they got to color. I was happy about that and moved on to asking him something else. Awhile later, he said, "You never asked me what else I said when I raised my hand." "Oh no..." I thought. "What else did you ask?" "I raised my hand and told the teacher she was nice," he said.

Of course I asked him why he told her that and what she said. "I told her that because she's really nice to kids and then she said 'thanks." If you know nothing else about Buddy, that's all you need to know. Total kiss-up. He had been to kindergarten for a few minutes when he figured out how to work the teacher. I'm sure he made her entire day/school year by saying that, though!



Tuesday a few of my adoption friends and their children participated in the county fair parade. I also invited my good friends and my mom and I think we all had a ton of fun. I know I did! After the parade we all went to the fair for free. We are huge fans of the fair in the this family, so it was a very enjoyable day. We wore homemade t-shirts in the parade. Mine said "Blessed By Adoption," Buddy's said "I Support Adoption" (G helped him made it, so he's the one that came up with that phrase. Sort of strange, I thought...), and Sambo's said "I (heart) Adoption." Buddy's t-shirt is his new favorite shirt and he seriously begs to wear it every day. We also had a big banner announcing we were from Families Supporting Adoption and we passed out adoption cards, candy, and really cool bracelets. It was really exciting to see how proud and confident the kids were to tell people they were adopted. And it was fun to hear the wonderful responses from people along the parade route and later at the fair. I had quite a few people approach me when they saw my totally awesome t-shirt. One guy from rural Oregon told me his story -- that he had recently adopted his niece because her birthmother was on drugs. He didn't know anyone else that had adopted a child so he was really happy to talk with me for a few minutes. It made me thankful to be a part of such a good support group and to have so much education about the process and the effects of adoption on the adoption triad (birth parents, adoptive families, children).

Well, that's my week so far. How's your week been?

Hazel

Part 2.

As I mentioned before, I am very fortunate to have very little experience with death. However, my luck is running out. My Grandma Hazel, my dad's mother, is getting old, and watching her age has been quite the reality check.

I always loved my Grandma Hazel. She is shy and didn't talk much, but she was always warm and was happy to have me come to visit. I think she had a little social anxiety, but she had lots of friends and loved her family deeply -- just like me. When I would hear her tell stories about what she enjoyed and didn't enjoy, I felt like she as talking about myself sometimes.

She only lived about 15 minutes from my family growing up, so I saw her often. I was always a pretty good kid, but I had my moments as all kids do. However, I never felt judged by her. I have no memories of her losing her patience with us kids, being annoyed by us, or her being disappointed with anything we did. I always felt safe and comfortable with her and I always felt like I could be myself.

Grandma always looked very young. She had gorgeous skin and hardly any wrinkles. She has had cancer a few times and one time she was recovering in the hospital so I paid her a visit. I could not believe how sick she was, but how lovely she looked lying there in the hospital bed. I later asked her why her skin was so gorgeous and she said it was because she used Oil of Olay for 60 years. I don't know if she was telling me the truth or not, but considering she's not really a jokester type, guess who else now uses Oil of Olay? If you think I look half my actual age, maybe you should consider switching to Oil of Olay as well. (Or it could be good genetics.)

I always knew she wasn't a Mormon. In fact, I spent many mornings straightening the chapel at the Catholic church with her, or attending Mass. That church was a big part of her life -- in proximity to her home (it was only about 50 feet from her front door) -- but it seemed to me that a big part of her social life came from the church too. However, I don't ever remember talking religion with her. Maybe she wasn't as religious as she seemed, or maybe she just respected my beliefs enough (even when I was a young child) to never try to change my mind. Whatever her reason, I was a Mormon and she was a Catholic and that was that. Now that I'm an adult, I find it amazing that it was never once awkward about religion with her. She was tolerant and respectful.

I always loved her name and felt proud that of the three children in my family, I was the only one that got hazel eyes. It made me feel connected to her for some reason -- and while I still feel that way, I realize the connection makes absolutely no sense. As a result, I've always liked my eyes, although they are nothing special, that's for sure.

One of the very best things I learned from grandma is her love of food and cooking. Unfortunately, by the time I realized I enjoyed cooking, Grandma was too old to teach me any of her tricks or recipes. I don't have a single recipe of hers, which literally makes me sick. But I did inherit her love of big meals and having family nearby to share them with. Interestingly enough, her meals were so tasty, my dad and my other siblings also admit that as they watched her joy, food became a passion for them too. Her meals weren't elaborate, but they were so good I remember eating until I was physically ill as a child.

In fact a few years ago she insisted on hosting and preparing Thanksgiving dinner for the family. She was well into her 80's and had obvious dementia. The idea of her failing was overwhelming to me. I couldn't bare the thought of her realizing she wasn't a good cook anymore. But cooking was her pride and she refused to back down. With a little (or lot) of help from my dad, she pulled it off.

4 generations. Her first born, my dad's first born, my first born.

We spent the night at her house here and there when I was young. She had a small house (two bedrooms), so she'd scoot the dining room table to the wall and then she'd make us a sleeping spot right there on the floor. Her bedroom door was right there, so in the morning, we'd wake up super early and as quiet as possible, we'd fold up the blankets and make a little pile out of them. We'd sit and wait for her to wake up. We did this every time, certain that she'd be thrilled to see us up and dressed with our beds made -- all before she woke up. Now that I'm a mother, I can't think of anything more annoying for her than to know that her grandchildren would be getting up early, so she should too. And to think we assumed we were making her happy!

Besides making her day, the other reason we wanted to get up early was because we knew she'd make us a huge breakfast. We didn't own a waffle iron in our family, but she did. So we'd always request waffles, bacon and orange juice. Orange juice was so good at her house. (I found out later my dad always watered ours down. No wonder...)

She would read us story after story. One time I brought her all the books she had in her house and asked her to read them all to me. I remember she got tired, but she did it. And even though I was small and had no clue about anything, I remember feeling impressed she pulled that off.

Grandma recycled in the 1980's -- well before it was en vogue to do so. I fill my recycling roll-cart every week now, thanks to some lessons in avoiding waste from Grandma.

She loved playing games, especially rummy and a dice gamed called "ten thousand." I have always loved playing games and have rarely found anyone willing to play rummy for hours with me like she could and would.

I suspect Grandma suffered from infertility. By the time I thought to ask her, her dementia made it impossible for her to remember. But she was in her 30's when my dad was born, then she only had one other child after him. In a generation when women bore children young and had lots of them, I can only assume. Maybe I'm wrong, but she was so motherly and patient, it seems like an obvious explanation for her small family.

Several years ago when I lived in Utah, Grandma and her husband, Jack, came to visit. They had a little camper that they were drive around to visit different state and national parks throughout the United States. This particular summer they decided to visit the parks in Utah -- and my sister and I. This was ten years ago and she was so old she could barely walk. But she was a good sport and we took her to see a few sights and of course we sat around and played ten thousand a few times. I actually won for once!

She loved the beach. Now that she has dementia and her mind and body are failing, Jack still drives her to the beach for the afternoon occasionally. She used to drive to the beach for a cup of clam chowder, then get back in the car and drive home. The beach was like home to her. Remind me to ask G to drive me to the beach when I'm old too. That's for sure where I'll want to be.

I didn't see her too often during my years in Utah so I was very surprised to see how her health had deteriorated while I was away. And now that six more years have passed since I've moved back to Oregon, it literally takes my breath away every time I visit and am reminded of how unforgiving aging can be.

Her first husband, and my grandfather, Ed, passed away when I was a small child. She then married Jack, a quirky maintenance man from the church and school next door. Jack has stood by her side all these years (20 years now?) and while he's a little odd, I have been impressed over and over again by his loyalty to Grandma. He still holds her hand and he still says she's the best thing that ever happened to him. Last time I saw them he told me he was scared about her health. He looked me in the eyes and told me he loves her. His face was white with stress and his eyes were full of panic and pleading.

They still live at home and my parents meet their every need. While Jack does a lot to help Grandma, my mom has the biggest burden to visit several times a week to take care of her, their home, and yard.

But my mom does it. And if I didn't have my own little ones to care for each day I'd do it too. Probably because Grandma Hazel would have done the same thing for me.

Perfect Day

Buddy's 5th birthday was back in November. We didn't really get him anything besides a ream of paper (to make paper airplanes) and an IOU note promising a whale-watching tour in Depoe Bay, Oregon. Everyone knows how much he loves animals, especially birds and sea life, so we figured this would be a perfect gift. He was thrilled even though he didn't have any presents to open. We planned to go in December.

Well, then December came and went (it snowed most of the month) and we moved in January/February. Then it wasn't whale-watching season. We planned to go in May but G spent most of the month traveling, so then we started to feel bad. Meanwhile, Buddy would remind us every few days that he still wanted to go.

Then in June we were at the children's museum and he found a flier on one of those tourist-pamphlet-racks advertising killer whale-watching tours in the San Juan Islands. I looked into it and while it sounded like a lot of fun, we weren't really planning any trips to Seattle. Over the next few weeks one thing lead to another and everything fell into perfect place so we could arrange our trip.

G's parents were coming for a visit, so we scheduled our trip to Seattle while they were here. After spending a fun-filled day in Seattle, we took the 2-hour drive north to Bellingham Saturday morning early. Buddy had no idea where we were going. When we arrived at the boat dock he was overjoyed to learn we were going out into the ocean to look for killer whales. Seeing his joy was pure joy for me too.

We boarded the boat a little before 10:00. The first three hours we headed through the San Juan Islands. Lucky for us the weather was gorgeous, which just made our boat-ride through the islands even more beautiful. The lush trees. Wow.

We had a very knowledgeable naturalist on board who kept watch for any cool animal-life, plus gave us all sorts of facts and figures and history about the islands. Along the way we saw a California sea lion, salmon jumping, some deer, and some different birds. She spotted a bald eagle, but much to the disappointment of all of us, we were on the wrong side of the boat to see it too. (Buddy keeps telling people he saw it, though.)

Finally a little before 1:00, we found the killer whales. I was so excited when I saw my first one. I had no idea that we'd be so close and that we'd see so many and it was only moments before the reality of the experience set in. I'm not sure how many whales were in the "pod" we were with, but maybe around 20. But we kept seeing them breech and slap their tails, not to mention the different times we'd see their huge dorsal fins swimming by. The naturalist knew each whale by name. It was amazing. Etiquette requires boats stay closer than 100 yards from the whales, but if they swim toward the boat we didn't have to move. At one point two whales swam right near the boat. Literally just feet from the side, right where we were. It was amazing, incredible, and impressive. In fact, I wish there were stronger adjectives to describe the experience. It was truly a highlight of my whole life. Even the captain said it was the best tour he'd been on all season. We watched the whales for nearly two hours then headed back to the dock, returning at almost 5:30. I have to say I actually felt dread leaving the boat. We can hardly wait to do it again (this time minus the little one, since containing him on the boat was like containing a cat in a paper bag.)

I'm sorry the pictures aren't very good. I wish I had a better camera. But even if I had a totally awesome camera, the photographs would never do the experience justice. After a little while I finally had to put our camera away and just enjoy the whales without the lens in my way. One guy on board took 400 pictures and said only one was good enough to capture the actual beauty of the whales. Seeing them in person -- in their element -- was remarkable.

Happy Birthday Buddy, 8 months late! I'm so glad you have such good taste in hobbies!

Apprentice

Balloon-Man, June 2007

The past several times I've been to Seattle, I've noticed the same creepy balloon-man outside Pike's Market. He sits right outside the famous fish-throwers. Trouble is, even though he's sitting ten feet from one of the most crowded places in one of the biggest US cities, I've never seen anyone near him. It's just bizarre how he can deflect a crowd.

We were back in Seattle this past weekend and low-and-behold, he wasn't there. I got a good laugh seeing that his replacement was just as creepy and had just as few kids around. The photo doesn't do this situation justice. This guy juxtaposed with the crowded Pike's was hilarious.

New Balloon-Man, August 2009

We actually spotted the old balloon-man all alone on a different street. So he's still in business. But barely. (Photo unavailable, however.)