Feb 6, 2014 | life around portland
Do you know what that is?
Yes, yes, our messy, neglected winter backyard that hints of spring what with the plants, sneakers, toys and gardening paraphenalia lying around. But it’s starting to get covered in snow – like real live snow that won’t melt in five minutes.
Why?
We’re having our first official Portland snow storm since we moved here! Woo hoo!
And by snowstorm, I mean: people are freaking out because we’re expected to get 1 – 2 inches of laying snow.
(Go ahead and chuckle, East Coast friends. Kenny and I did.)
In any case, I am excited because my kids haven’t played in snow outside the house since we lived back East.
Ok, yes. There was one time in March 2012 when we woke up to some accumulated wet snow. But that was a fluke. This time – it’s “breaking weather news” snow and the kids are coming home from school two hours early.
I don’t know East Coasters, maybe my accounts of a Portland snow storm will make you chuckle / keep your spirits high as you continue to dig out from under the recent round of ice and snow? I’m guessing probably not due to how weather weary you likely are at this point. 🙂 More to follow anyway – hahaha.
Jan 21, 2014 | therapy fodder, yup, i really did that
I’ve never been the friend who sets up the plans or calls the group to get together. Grace, at the age of five, is quite determined to change that.
Last week, she came home, slipped me her friend’s mom’s number and told me to call her to set up a play date.
Three things were wrong with this:
1 – I don’t know the girl who she wants to have the play date which means I certainly don’t know her mother or father.
“Oh, hi. This is Bridget, my daughter Grace slipped me your number so I can set up a play date with…uh…”
2 – Naturally, since I’ve never heard the name of the gal Grace wants to have a play date with, you probably guessed that I don’t know the mom’s or dad’s name.
“…what’s your daughter’s name again? Oh, right. Sorry about that. What’s your name? Oh, hi! Nice to meet you over the phone…”
3 – The number was scrawled in Kindergartener writing. Which means I’m pretty certain the other set of parents has no idea that their phone number is being passed around class for play dates.
“…No, I am not a telemarketer. I am Grace’s mom. From the Kindergarten class? Yes, our daughters are in the same class and Grace would like to have your daughter over to play. Apparently your little one shared your number for me to call you, so I did.”
In a kind of sweet and innocent way, Grace could not understand why I wouldn’t just call the number and ask “Sam” (that’s the alias I’ll use here) to come over to play with her. Um, because I couldn’t pick this child or her parents out of a line up, so me calling and inviting her over to play is creepy at best? And, if I did lose my mind briefly enough to be so bold and wildly trusting, I would question their judgement if they dropped “Sam” off to play without first meeting us and / or Grace. It’s kind of hard to get her to see that because she and “Sam” are BFFs and eat lunch together every day – they know each other, so who cares if the moms know each other?
The moms do. Well, at least I hope they do. I definitely do.
Is this old-fashioned? Am I way out of it? Or am I just a Northeast Philadelphia gal with some street smarts that make me naturally untrusting until I meet three generations of family before I let my kids have a play date? Ok, so that’s an exaggeration, but I feel like at least having a visual frame of reference of the friends’ parent(s) is sound judgement, but apparently, I am wreaking havoc over Grace’s Kindergarten rep. Already. She’s asked me everyday since Thursday when I am calling “Sam’s” mom, and when I say “after I meet her in person”, she has a canary and tells me “meeting all the moms takes too long” and she’ll “be in third grade by the time she has a play date with Sam”. I will punctuate this point with the first time I heard this BFF’s name was Thursday when I got the phone number – hahaha. Such drama. (Can’t wait until she’s a teen. Or tween. Or really just tomorrow at the rate her sassy pants are growing.)
Fast forward to today when I picked her up from yoga. She pointed “Sam” out to me and asked me to wait to meet her mom. I obliged. And then did something that reconfirmed my natural nervousness to introduce myself to people is spot on and well warranted.
I stuck my hand out and said, “Hi, I’m Bridget.” to this bubbly mom who was collecting some rambunctious children from the yoga class. And because I had my nervous on, I just kept talking, “Grace keeps talking about “Sam” and would love to have her come over to play sometime. I told her I wanted to meet “Sam’s” mom first, so…hi.” (WHAT THE HECK AM I DOING? Am I a 12-year-old boy crushing on the girl next door? “SO…HI”?! OMG. Kill me now.
But wait.
It gets worse.
She smiled, and sweetly said, “You mean “Penelope”?” and pointed to a little girl who was not “Sam”.
No. No. No. I did not just do this.
Oh, but I did.
I eked out, “Oh, no, I am so sorry. I actually meant “Sam”, but I am sure Grace would love to play with “Penelope” sometime, too.” Grace – who I am sure was dying of mortification right along with me – pinched my leg, so I continued, “If they are friends. I am not sure if they are even friends.”
Holy cow. STOP. TALKING. NOW. It’s a train wreck – just cut your social losses and save any remaining dignity for “Sam’s” real mom, you tool!
Ugh.
So not only did I have to awkwardly approach one mom today, I had to do this rodeo twice. I introduced myself to “Sam’s” real mom. That went much better. I think. When we were leaving she asked me to please call because she collects a lot of numbers for play dates and never gets a call.
Uh, what now?
Why does no one ever call? I am not sure whether I should feel bad or nervous. Waaaaaaah. I want to cry.
And, just like the nervous 12-year-old boy mustering up the courage to ask the gal next door on a date, I am sitting here looking at my phone, mulling over ridiculous things like: Do I text? Call? When? Today? Later this week? What’s my next move?
Making my own friends here was hard enough. Now this. I am exhausted! It’s a good thing I met Kenny when I did because I would, for sure – without a doubt – be single with a million cats because I am so terrible at the dating scene – play dates included. Hahaha.
Jan 16, 2014 | life around portland
I have mentioned before that flights back to Portland are my favorite. Mostly because it means I am heading home to my family (and bed and pillow), but also because they oftentimes offer unrivaled visual spectacles.
Take that picture, for instance.
Yes, that’s a deer (?!) rack.
ON THE LUGGAGE BELT.
AT THE AIRPORT.
IN PORTLAND.
I have never in my life seen a real deer rack that close. Let alone one riding the luggage belt a bag ahead of mine. (For the purposes of this blog, I am assuming it’s a deer rack vs. some other animal antlers.) And I am not convinced that the bag between my bag and the deer rack didn’t contain other deer parts. It was this weird, plastic, blue cooler-y looking thing. The drama queen in me fully expected it was full of deer steaks and organ meat. The hidden vegetarian in me wanted to cry. The Curious George in me couldn’t stop staring. In fact, he made me stay and take MORE pictures even though my bag was one of the first ones out. Hahaha.
The pic above is from my deer-rack-stalkerazzi efforts. The pic next to this paragraph is the one that I first took – when I was done 
staring at the deer rack trying to figure out if I was actually seeing what I was seeing. The clamor from the few other passengers who had already made it to luggage claim and airline employees confirmed that yes, they were indeed antlers. My trying-to-find-the-camera frenzy is reflected in the blurry picture. By the time I realized that YES – they were indeed ANTLERS, I almost missed my picture opportunity. So I hung around to get a better shot.
To be honest, I was equally amused and grossed out. I totally assume this deer rack hitched a ride from PHX to PDX on my lovely little suitcase because they were so close together in exiting. I mean really. It’s the first proper suitcase out behind the rack and the weird, plastic, blue cooler-y looking thing. They definitely touched. Ew. I am not sure why this grosses me out, but it does. Ew.
Of course, there’s a pre-story to all of this. Despite my very best efforts to avoid using the bathroom on such a short flight, I failed. Sooooo….Coming out of the bathroom when I was going in was a gal in her 60s with a camo baseball hat and camo shirt on. (You see where this is going.) I thought that was kind of an interesting fashion statement, but, hey, I very rarely stray from all black, so who am I to say? This could be the hottest look on the runway as far as I knew. While I waited for the deer rack to make its second loop so I could snap proper pictures for this blog, my bathroom trip came back to me in a flash. In that instant, I KNEW these antlers were hers. Knew it. My eyes darted around the crowd, and yep, she was waiting for luggage. As I left after snapping my pictures, I caught a last glimpse of the antlers – and the weird, plastic, blue cooler-y looking thing – sitting on top of her suitcase. Hahaha.
Chalking this up in the learn something new every day category. I never knew you could “check” tokens of your hunting trip!
Nov 9, 2013 | life around portland, moving across the country...in stories
A little over two years ago, we moved to this cool town, for an amazing company with which Kenny saw a bright and promising future.
I wish I had seen this video before we moved – I would have been super pumped (instead of pumped and nervous – haha.) about the uncertain journey that was unfurling ahead.
With two+ years at Nike HQ under his belt, I am happy Kenny has the opportunity to make his mark on the legacy that Nike is building right here in Oregon. It’s been a wild ride – mostly fun, sometimes scary, but always worth it.
As a communications professional, I am smitten with this video. It’s awesome. Inspiring. Motivational. And I am sitting here wondering why I don’t work for Nike…which means it served its purpose – haha. As a side note, we had the pleasure of meeting and spending an evening with Nelson (2:06) last holiday season at a friends’ house. How amazing is that job – “Corporate Storyteller”? It’s pretty special to be part of something from the start, like Nelson was with Nike. I love love love that they leverage their very first employees to not only keep the brand heritage alive – but also link how that heritage is defining the path for the future. There’s really no better way to show the power of your brand than by spotlighting your very first employees. They created the brand. They embody the brand. They are your best ambassadors – and can showcase how yesterday’s beliefs and experience can create a company for today, tomorrow and beyond better than anyone because they live it every day, and likely have for the better part of their career. Simply amazing corporate comms.
To bring this video even closer to home, that’s Kenny and I hiking in the Columbia Gorge at :27.
Just joking, it’s not. But we’ve been to the Gorge a few times, and can vouch for it’s beauty and peacefulness.
At :30 in, we live in the hills to the left of the radio towers you see in that shot. Pretty sure my mom took pictures with the silver guy seen :36 in…only at the Saturday Market during their visit last May. We’ve snow tubed at Mount Hood (:39) and enjoyed many a microbrew (:53). Gavin and Grace have run around the track (1:24) for pre-school activities, including time spent with members of the Wounded Warrior Project. Grace still tells stories about “her soldiers” that could go “so fast even though they lost their legs in the war. Mom, did you know they have chairs with wheels that help them move around?” (I tell her I do know that as I swallow back my tears. I am equally happy that she recognizes the significance of their sacrifice and thankful for everything they’ve given for our freedom.) Their pre-school graduation was in the building behind the goal in 1:29, and they spend their Saturday mornings in the building shown at 1:32 learning to swim.
Pretty cool stuff. And, in November – the month where we’re giving thanks for all the blessings in our lives – we’re happy we can include the fantastic experiences this video teases as part of our lives.
