Internal and External Plumbing

Last night I had food poisoning. Or a bug. Either way it was torture and it came out both ends... for 6 hours!

These bouts never come at a good time for me. Ok, really, no time is a good time for this type of bodily expulsion but for me these episodes always seem to pair with a bit of drama. You remember the last time this happened to me – I was on an airplane! And I was all alone on that airplane with a six week old baby and a three year old with the overwhelming feeling that I was dying.

Well, last night as I was reeling from this bug we had a water pipe break under the house. This of course meant that the water had to be shut off. I’ve never been so desperate for a flushing toilet or a working washing machine in my life.

I’ll spare you all the gory details but needless to say the water is back on tonight… leak and all. Because when my internal plumbing is broken, external plumbing is an absolute necessity.

A Choice...

I spent the better part of the morning contemplating… ok, complaining would be a better word for what I did… I had a little pity party. I set out all focused on my work woes. You see, I am barely treading water these days. I seem to have lost what I love most about my job.

I love to build relationships and bring people together to solve problems (a result of middle child syndrome!)
I love the flexibility to create my own goals and define my successes.
I love the freedom I am given to find my own opportunities to add value.
I love how I can take company and department goals and develop my own strategies to support the overall vision.
I love to focus on the end goal and set my own objectives to exceed expectations.
I love the empowering sense of accomplishment when I deliver beneficial results.

As of lately I have simply been so overwhelmed with the day-to-day support and I feel like I am losing touch with what I love to do and what I add the most value doing.

I am simply overwhelmed with the mundane. I can recognize the root causes of issues and I know what I need to do to provide real benefits but I just can’t find my way to focus on the end results. I simply do what needs to be done (because there is SO much to be done) and I hate the ordinary routine of it all. I am a thinker… a dreamer… I have big visions and even bigger goals that must be met to feel a sense of accomplishment, to measure up to my definition of success.

This is what I deliberated on all morning. I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I couldn’t find a way to break the mundane streak – even though I have devised and discussed many brilliant plans to get back into my comfortable role – A role that I have defined and hold myself accountable for; A role where I make big decisions and turn ideas into accomplishments; But also a role that simply cannot be accommodated right now due to the shift in our economy and the reactions that we all must take to ensure survival.

I was making myself so miserable with my negative thoughts when my heart and mind were finally opened. It was then, in the midst of my commiserating, when I remembered I had a choice. I recalled a message that has saved the day (and probably my life) a thousand times over. A message that I don’t always remember in the moment but that I always come back to in the end. A message that my dearest Mother taught me: Happiness is a choice and that choice is ours to make.

I ultimately realized that my definition of success doesn’t always have to be grand. Accomplishments can take many forms and sometimes it’s just about stepping up to the plate, taking on the mundane tasks as needed to ensure a team’s success. So, I will temporarily rewrite my definition of success. I have a job – a job I have almost always loved. A job that I know will open up many future opportunities that fit within my grand visions. A job that pays the bills and supports my lifestyle… and, almost supports my desired lifestyle. Ok, sometimes my desired lifestyle doesn’t fit anywhere in (or even near) the realm of reality because I am a dreamer... But that’s a whole different post for another day.

So for all you out there wallowing in your own misery of the day remember this message and always choose happiness. The grass is always greener on the side of blissfulness.

Merry Christmas Charlie's Angels

This Christmas, which was celebrated with the Portland sisters exactly one month late due to the Arctic Storm of December 2008, was commemorated Charlie's Angels style. Sarah, as usual, came equipped with costume attire. Sarah is always prepared at every party to whip out her latest find from Value Village - usually a wig or a hat or sunglasses that we all MUST model. So last night Sarah brought out the sunglasses that were just too good to pass up and we all opted for a chance at a photo shoot.

Even the boys got in on the photo shoot...

Sarah and Warren really played it up...

Despite the fact that this family Christmas celebration was considerably delayed the event did not disappoint - Sarah dressed us up, posed us all and took 100 pictures - very reminiscent to my life growing up with Sarah. Well, Ok - I insisted she take 100 pictures of me until she got just the right one! I had double chins and bug eyes in most pictures which I simply could NOT put on this blog. Everyone else got one shot to produce the perfect picture but I had to be coached - chin up, relax your eyes, look at me, chin UP. Obviously a career as a model is out of the question for me. But in the end I think we all could give the Charlie's Angels a run for their money...

You just never know what a Yarbrough family gathering will deliver.

We missed having the entire family around to celebrate our Charlie's Angels debut but we ate and drank enough for all of you! Merry Christmas.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

A fitting prayer...

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my shape to keep.
Please no wrinkles, Please no bags
And please lift my butt before it sags.
Please no age spots, Please no gray.
And as for my belly, Please take it away
Please keep me healthy, Please keep me young,
And thank you Dear Lord, For all that you've done.

Always Use Dryer Sheets...

The other day I went to visit my beloved hairdresser, Cari, in attempt to hide those pesky gray hairs that spring up out of nowhere (just take one look at my father and you’ll know where I get my gray hair from). It was the end of a very long day at work… lots of meetings, some subtle influencing, a bit of venting, not at all productive, but I did make my way all around campus mingling with many different people.

Needless to say, my trip to the salon was the first bit of relaxation I have had all week and I enjoyed the head massage, great conversation, a hot cup of coffee, and time to forget about all my troubles at work. And even I have to admit that I looked good after a healthy dose of color was applied and my frizz was tamed with a straightening iron.

As I was about to leave, Cari picked up a crinkled black clothing item from the chair that I had been relaxing in for the last two hours. She unfolded the clothing item to reveal a sock… a sock that presumably had been stuck to the back of my shirt ALL DAY LONG!! This sock HAD to be stuck on the OUTSIDE of my shirt ALL DAY LONG because my shirt was tucked in…

Hmmm… suddenly, the horror of my trek all around campus, talking and meeting with so many people made me realize that they must have all seen this sock stuck on my back.

Apparently, no one at work is my friend… no one mentioned it all day.

But I’m sure they had a good laugh about it.

To hide my utter embarrassment I laughed with Cari until I cried. But really, I was horrified. I am still horrified. Who walks around with a sock stuck to their shirt all day?? I guess I do! I mean, I am the girl who went to school with her dress inside out as a child. And, I still find myself periodically buttoned up wrong, or my fly is open… or my shirt is on backwards… but this sock is surely a new low for me…

To make it all the worse I had to go tell everyone at work and yes, most people mentioned that they saw the odd attachment on my back but they weren’t sure how to approach the subject because they just weren’t sure what it was.

I guess I should be glad it wasn’t a pair of thong underwear!

But I bet that’s what everyone thinks it was…

It's Spring...

Hope woke up the other day running into our room eagerly announcing that it was Spring. “Mommy, It’s Spring! I looked out my window and the sun is shining. I think the apples are going to grow on the trees and the flowers are going to bloom. Mommy, LOOK! It’s Spring.” Only in Oregon could a child be so confused by brilliant rays of sun smack dab in the middle of winter.

With a special day off today Roger suggested we all go enjoy the sunshine and take the kids to the park. I turned up my nose and scowled. “Hmmm, perhaps a trip to the mall is in order??” I suggested. But, everyone voted against the mall just because it was sunny. “Oh, don’t be seduced by the beauty that so rarely shines it’s rays here in Portland – it is frigidly cold out there.” I warned. Again, I got outvoted because it was sunny. So off to the park in the Antarctic temperatures we went… I, bundled up in my wool socks, three layers of clothes, scarf, hat, gloves, and down coat. Hope went in her shirt and pants and didn’t even want to wear her sweatshirt. Of course, we all had sunglasses to shield our eyes from the bright light in the sky that makes Oregon children think it’s Spring.

Riley opted to take a nap – lucky boy!

I wish I could traverse the monkey bars like this but I’m afraid I’d pull my arms out of the sockets.

The kids had a blast. We took 5 million pictures. I froze. And when I could no longer feel my toes we went for hot cocoa with whipped cream, steaming coffee, and a halibut fish sandwhich, which made braving the elements all worth the while.

Ode to Carrie!

My friend Carrie (and world’s greatest babysitter) showed up on Saturday night to give us a night out. Carrie’s much anticipated arrival (Hope spent the entire day asking how much longer until Carrie would be over) was acknowledged with a standing ovation full of cheers, applause and dancing.

We all love Carrie and we look forward to what the night holds when she shows up. It means a night out with adults only, usually a nice quiet dinner with fantastic food topped off with a bottle of red wine and a decadent chocolate dessert – a night where Roger and I have fun as a couple (I know, just imagine – no children…). A night where we can catch each other up on the latest with the kids, solve the worlds problems, make unrealistic plans for buying a new house or installing an addition, buying new cars or traveling to Spain. I can usually get Roger to buy into my crazy ideas by the third glass of wine! I was pretty sure I had him on the house addition but I’m now realizing that unless we had called the contractor that night it probably won’t ever happen. I mean, look at the fence! Oh, but it’s so fun to dream and it’s all the more fun to have someone to share in your dreams for a night, even if they never do become reality. And just to prolong our fantasy land we’ll often end up at the neighborhood bar for one final glass of wine before heading home to our real life and real house that we have undoubtedly outgrown.

And all this entertainment made possible because we have the worlds greatest babysitter. She comes equipped with dresses and heels, lip gloss, movies, bubbles – always a little something to make the night extra special. It’s non-stop fun for all until Nico crawls up on the couch, sprawls out over a pillow and promptly falls asleep at only 7:15 – exhausted from way to much partying. Carrie is simply amazing - If I were rich I’d pay her a million dollars a night – she is just that good!

So, this Saturday night we met Sarah and Warren and Gwyn and Dan at the Grand Central Lanes and forgot all about our parenting responsibilities. We ate, played pool, sang and even danced a little and had some great conversation.

It’s not about how well you shoot pool – it’s about how good you look while shooting pool! That was my motto for the night!

Roger and Warren mesmerized by the bikini babes in the hip hop video

A testament to a fabulous night out...

Once back to reality and fast asleep I hear the pitter patter of Hope’s footsteps make their way through each room in the house with the final stop at the side of my bed. It’s a routine that I am all too familiar with now, so as I fade in and out of dreamland (I mean, it is 2:00 a.m.) I half listen as Hope asks in a whisper “Is Carrie still here?” She begins to quietly cry and reminds me for the hundredth time that she just loves Carrie and she wishes Carrie could spend the night… no, she wishes Carrie could live with us and she’s just so sad that Carrie is gone… and finally, “can I please sleep in your room because my heart is so sad?”

The next morning Hope recaps her own fantasy land evening with Carrie and always ends with how she can’t wait to grow up and live with Carrie where they will be princesses and live in castle! That’s pretty close to my fantasy land when I’m out with Roger except that I’m the princess and Roger’s the prince and we make plans to add onto our castle...