This week

Booger booger booger snort hack cough oh gross booger booger cough wheeze booger yuck gag booger booger hot bath Nyquil snore.

Today.

There is a decidedly autumnal chill in the air today and I could not be more ready.  I'm generally a sun-loving summer person but it's been such a dry late summer and it's high time to be able to wake up without crusty eyes (lovely image, no?).  Our friend, Mr. M, is here.  A house has been rented, beer has been consumed, tacos have been made, tires have been flipped. 

Lately we've been so incredibly busy with parenting and just life in general that we haven't done much socializing. It's nice to be reminded of those old days when we had an open-door policy every Friday night - I usually had a big pot of Indian food on the stove and our friends would stop by throughout the evening to eat and have a beer.  Mr. M was always one of the last to arrive because he worked late at Aggie Liquor but we could always rely on him to bring some weird beer and help finish up the dregs of whatever I made.  Those were good times and so are these.

And pretty much nevermind all that... except the bike part.

A.  What trauma? College is C's happy place.  First 3 exams, 2 papers, first truly late nights of studying are in the books and she's cool as a cucumber.  Sheesh, Mom, chill.

B.  The goats, sheep, dog, and turtles are fine.  I can't find the toad but he is good at that whole camouflage thing so I'm not too concerned and he lives outside so at worst, he is now free outside.  The cat, sadly, took an abrupt turn for the worse and we had to put him to sleep last Wednesday.  He was a destructive, vengeful, ill-tempered feline but, in the end, he became a great movie-watching buddy and he was always a gorgeous boy, and apparently I loved him anyway because, after 15 years, it was SAD to see him suffer and very sad to say goodbye. As an aside, I can't say enough about the vet we've now used twice to come to the house and end a pet's suffering.  The only thing worse than having to put a pet down is to have to make them suffer through a car ride and trip to the vet right beforehand.  Mr. K and I have not been cat-less since before we got married.  We're committed to a non-replacement plan on the pet front but I'm not going to bet anything too dear on that.

C.  I didn't make a single egg-in-a-hole last week.  They are culinary old news.

D.  Can we still be committed to the simple austerity of the college years is we're simultaneously deciding we need a Sprinter-type van with room for a big, comfy bed in the back?  Mr. K rode his new fatbike (the man likes a big-tired lady, thank goodness) from here to Steamboat Springs (or at least most of the way... snow and cold and his riding buddy's lack of fat tires and you know, good sense* prevented them from riding the last segment.  He also camped.  I don't do the whole sleeping on the ground thing.  One night of camping = 3+ days of back-related agony. I don't want or need luxury but I do require a decent sleeping surface.  This trip convinced Mr. K that I am, in fact, extremely superior (or, as he put it, I "have a point") in this regard.  So, our imaginary extra money will now be saved not only for new carpet (Have I mentioned our septic back-up? That was fun.) but for a new adventuremobile.

E.  The house is still filthy but somewhat less so.  Our dear friend who moved to New Mexico several years back is moving back to CO and he's coming to stay with us while house-hunting and working in his new office for a few days.  In general, shame is our best motivator for cleaning and I would also hate for our friend to die of ptomaine or sneezing or just ew before he gets to move back to lovely CO.  So, go us, and don't expect too much, Mr. M, what we lack in motivation we make up for in apathy.

F.  I still don't like wine.

*seriously, hurray for good sense.  Can we all agree that "not dumb" is the new sexy?

College, Confidence, and Cobbler

Hi! Make this cobbler and then make this one.

C and her boyfriend, C (same name... yes, it's very confusing), made it through their first 2 weeks of college.  Getting used to campus, long labs, and people... so many people (!!) has been as adventure.  C (he) is also working half-time at a well-known technology company that shall remain nameless (starts with an H, ends with a P) and C (she) auditioned on piano for the college jazz combo and got a spot! They are both thrilled and overwhelmed by the opportunities ahead of them, and exhausted by their daily efforts to overcome their introvert tendencies as they interface with way.too.many.humans.

C (she) is reconsidering her major now that she's getting to know more about what her university has to offer.  It's all very exciting and an excellent distraction from the neck-deep homework (chemistry, oh my!).  Sadly, she's also really struggling with her confidence.  I suppose it's inevitable to a certain extent but I wish we could bypass the "ack! I can't do it!" episodes and get straight to the eventual "guess there's not much to do but get to work" which then leads to success, happiness, and peace in the kingdom.  Alas, such is the way of the eldest daughter.  She really is killin' it but there has been gnashing and there has been wailing... and she's struggled, too ;)

I predict she'll figure it out, and/or I'll learn to like wine.

Mr. K got a new bike.  If you know us at all, there is no need for me to explain the depths and heights of his happiness.  If you don't know us at all, there is no way for me to explain the depths and heights of his happiness.

A and R are doing their thing and doing it well.  I've been making lots of egg-in-a-hole on Whole Foods sourdough (the only right bread for the job) and they've been making the adjustment to C's departure much, much easier.  They're good apples, indeed.

The goats and sheep and turtles and toad and dog and cat are all doing well.  So am I.  I'm fatter than I would like, happier than I might expect, and just about as tired as I probably should be.

The house is filthy.  I'm reading this, more out of my long-standing fear of landing on an episode of Hoarders explaining to some poor, haggard counselor exactly why I need to keep the box of my own toenail clippings because MEMORIES than any delusion of living a perfectly tidy, austere life of Japanese betterness.  So far I've gathered up 15 bags of outgrown clothing (including baby socks... my youngest is 12 but yeah, baby socks) to be donated/handed down.  Nary a petrified squirrel was found under the pile of laundry.  Take that, Hoarders.

Pretty much every appliance in our house has needed to be replaced or repaired in the last 4 months and we've spent an ungodly amount of money on car-related expenses.  This, plus staring down the barrel of the (admittedly very modest) first tuition payment in a long line of payments to come, has caused us to take stock, look around, and be thankful for what we have and to commit ourselves to live a good ol' simple life for the foreseeable future.

Go us.

You know when you have a blog and then you never update it and you realize how much can change in a short period of time?

Hi!

C:  High school graduate.  Registering for college classes today.  Living with (new) boyfriend.  Long story.  Ridiculously awesome and amazing and still a completely lovely pain in the ass.

R:  Middle school graduate.  Immersed in the summer Steam sale today.  If you don't know what that is, you're a better parent than I am.  Pat yourself on the back (or butt, or whatever).  Good kid.  Big doofus. 

A:  6th grade is in the books.  Binge-watching all sorts of things.  Obsessed with drinking apple cider vinegar.  Planning world domination.  Better than average chance at success.  Gorgeous but feral.

All enjoying kayaking and swimming when it isn't raining. 

Parents:  alive.

More to come...

Oh wow, cont'd

C is a sophunior in high school (2nd year but on course to graduate a year early), loving German ( and AP Human Geography and AP US History and her free period to allow her to keep up with 2 AP classes and 3rd year language, all on the semester system meaning entire year's worth of APUSH in one semester... ack!), waning in her love for music (She quit band after freshman year.  It was an enormous time suck and she gained pretty much nothing from it musically.  I'm not gonna lie, it was a huge disappointment.  Music is why she chose this high school and why she endured a middle school experience full of loneliness after leaving her elementary peers.  That said, it was the right decision.) with the exception of jazz piano, and enjoying her boyfriend (when they're not arguing).  Whatever this whole "high school experience" thing is supposed to be, I'm sure she's doing it.  I think so, at least.  She's been overseas twice over Spring Break with school groups, and she's concocting a plan with her best girlfriend for another adventure this summer.  She wants to be a Speech Language Pathologist or Audiologist and she wants to go to college in Mormon country (Logan, UT).

All that said, this time last year she wanted to be a concert percussionist and German teacher and wanted to go to college at the most expensive possible conservatory, so we're not exactly making solid plans just yet.  Tune in 6 months from now when we start searching for the perfect engineering school because never mind arts, humanities, health and education professions, I'm gonna be a petroleum engineer!

Breathe.

Mr. K and I are.... fine (ish).  I make no bones about the general state of buttkickedness we find ourselves in these days.  Parenting has never been a breeze for us but this phase feels extra "can't ignore how important this stuff is" ish, and we do have to admit to a few nights of longing for the relative simplicity of sleep deprivation and games of rock paper scissors to determine who would take care of the utter crime scene of a diaper that one or more of our kids would offer up as a middle of the night gift.  And then, we remind ourselves that we have a cat that barfs, pees, and craps in unacceptable places and it has driven us to quietly dream of the day that he goes to the giant pressure washable cat condo in the sky.  He will, of course, live to be 30 because that is how things work with cats.  I can, however, begin to dream of the replacement carpet, curtains, walls (!), fireplace (!!), etc. I will be able to get in just 17 short years.  Sigh.

We are down to one miserable cat, one spastic (but decidedly more lovable) dog, 2 turtles, 3 sheep, and a toad.  Only the cat and dog live in the house (except for roughly one month between hibernation ending and warm temperatures arriving during which 2 turtles turn a large Rubbermaid container in A's room into a den of non-stop turtle porn).  And yay (!?) the vet thinks the female turtle may have eggs.  Turtles anyone?

This spring we're getting Nigerian dwarf goats because it was either that or a rodent and NO.  They will be cute, way too much work, and cute so yeah.

I'm Robin.  I like long walks (cold margaritas) on the beach, quiet candlelit (or you know... not-frozen-pizza) dinners, and Deadliest Catch.  When I grow up I'm going to sleep, travel, have a beautiful garden, and an obsessively clean house.  In the mean time, I have carbohydrates.

Oh wow....

It's been a long time. 

Life has a way of marching on whether it is chronicled or not.  I'm channeling my inner Virginia Woolf on this one (stream of consciousness style, not in terms of strange sexual fears or general, you know... crazazy [although, I should mention... DEBATABLE]) so get comfy and stick with me on this one.

R's middle school experience last year sucked.  As in, pulled him out of an especially horrifying and borderline abusive teacher's class prior to the end of the school year risking life (?) limb (?) and an F in orchestra (!).  In the end, I believe he got the C- but honestly, I didn't care.  Note to humans:  If you can't control your impulses to bellow in the faces of children with your coffee breath and highly disgusting corner-of-the-mouth white sticky spit stuff, find another profession.  Prison needs wardens, and felons need your spit stuff.  Am I bitter? Yeah, a little.  Fortunately, R is now at a hippy dippy trippy school in town that seems to be working with him although he still struggles with being called out for inattention/goofiness/laziness in class to which I say, "My sweet love, you must SUCK.IT.UP!"  He's been on a school camping trip during which he neither slept nor pooped but he did eat an entire container of Nutella so you no, bonus.  I love the kid, and he's determined to make this school thing difficult for himself.  Upside:  When he acts out, he loses video games, so our house is often quiet these days.  Luckily his general hugginess has survived, and he's still the sweetest little jackass in all of jackassville. 

Let us pray.  Oh holy redheaded mother of 80's perseverance, please deliver us from the horrors of parenting pre-teen boys.  The mood swings, the smells, the grades, the sloth, the excessive consumption of nutrition-free nutrition, oh Molly Ringwald, it may be the death of me (or at least my patience) yet.  Amen.

A? She's just fine... fucking fantastic, really.  Spare her the peace circle, the "hug it out", the vapid trappings of tweenlady existence.  Give that girl a turtle (or 30), a goat (or 30), an episode (or 30) of the Office, and every Warriors (Seekers, etc.) book ever written, and she'll bide her time until the world is her oyster (or her bitch, depending on who you ask) and she can begin to right the wrongs that are so obvious to her wide open eyes.  In the mean time, just play air hockey with her, catch as many episodes of Once Upon a Time as possible with her, and make the damn pancakes already, I'm hungry (honey butter sauce, no maple syrup mmkay thanks). 

Gotta run now but I'll update you on the rest of us another day.  I hope you're well :)