As Requested . . . the Orrs

Today my darlin friend AmiMental came over and took family pics of us. Why is it that she can get better shots of our family than anyone else on the planet? I suspect it is because most photographers do not love us, and she does. So, for your view pleasure, here are the Orrs. Haven't those children of mine gotten GORGEOUS? Oh, and that pic of the two women who look like they could be sisters? That would be me and the photographer, friends for life.

An Amazing Gift

Recently someone asked me what one of the best gifts I've ever gotten was. I was stumped for a while. In the end, what came to mind was not THINGS, but moments . . . the gift of love, time, humor, kindness.

Yesterday I got one of those gifts. One that I will treasure for as long this brain works enough for me to remember it.

Our family has taken the Amtrak train from Portland to Seattle a half dozen times. We always have fun. The train trip is as much, if not more, of the fun than getting to the city. We read, talk, sleep, write letters, play games, look out the window and just enjoy being together. One year we even took my mom with us and that was wonderful, albeit a little exhausting as we also took a wheelchair with us and pushed her in it since every trip includes a great deal of walking.

Yesterday I rode the train to Seattle again, but this time only with Nicole. She had bought tickets for a trip six months ago for her and Jon and since they were no longer together, she had an extra. She asked me to go with her in early January and I finally said no, because frankly, I didn't believe I could do it physically. Too many health issues going on and not enough energy.

About three weeks ago, I said I had changed my mind. I wanted to go. I felt far better and 30 lbs. lighter. I had struggling with vertigo for two weeks, but it was improving, so I said let's go.

So, we did. And the world saw that this was an important moment for us and so (1) my vertigo virtually disappeared, (2) I got a check in the mail the day before for some spending money, and (3) it was SUNNY in Seattle (even more surprising than in Portland at this time of year). Nicole and I both know that she is leaving in just over a week and that that moment is going to be agonizingly difficult for both of us and this was a chance to spend the day together.

It was a letter perfect day. We went to some great places, riding the Monorail, checking out the Space Needle, hitting a stationery store . . . . but even better, we laughed and cried and talked and then did it all over again. We laughed so hard, it hurt. We cried talking about the changes approaching. We aired fears and worries and reassured each other. We even managed to get completely lost, on the wrong elevator, and found it hysterically funny.

Coming home was sobering. This trip to Seattle had been what we focused on, letting her departure date fade into the near future, and now the trip was over. And you know, it's not going to be any easier to say goodbye to this child. Hell, I cry even typing the words. But I am also resting safe in the knowledge that the bond she and I share can weather any changes, any distance, anything. It is stronger than steel and absolutely cannot be damaged. It can shift, it can mature, it can deepen, but no mere miles will make even the slightest dent. And what an AMAZING gift that is, eh?

Tea in the fridge, darlin girl.

Heading into Spring

We are seeing signs that spring really does plan to return to Portland this year. After the second wettest March in state history, the sun is peeking out now and then and making the colors of the jonquils, tulips and cherry blossoms sparkle and shine. Once again Joseph and I remark about the similarity of Portland in spring to a Candyland game board.

Other news . . . . I have hit 30 pounds lost now. This makes me exceedingly happy. Even better is that eating this way is getting easier all the time. That makes me ecstatic.

Nicole's moving plans are starting to escalate. She is cleaning up her room so she leaves it in good shape and finds exactly what she wants to take and not take. I am focusing on her happiness and will let the other stuff come later. When I'm ready. Yeah. Right.

She and I are taking the day to go to Seattle next week on Amtrak. That will be wonderful and fun and bittersweet and poignant. It is the first time we haven't gone as a whole family so that will be odd, but it will also be nice to shop where we want to without keeping the menfolk a'waitin for us.

Vertigo is better--not gone--but better. Joseph is sad because he likes it that I had to keep reaching out and grabbing him for balance. Of course, he liked some grabs far better than others.

That's the picture at the Orr house . . and speaking of pictures, we have asked our all time favorite photographer to come to the house before Nicole leaves to take a few new family portraits. We have changed quite a bit since a year ago when she took them. There is 100 plus pounds less of us, to start with. Plus the boys are TALL, Nicole's hair is longer and RED, and Joseph and I are just a tad grayer. The happiness shines through though.

Stay tuned.

Out of Limbo . . . Stalled in Vertigo

Well, limbo has FINALLY ended, which is good because damn, it's hard on your back, ya know? As of yesterday afternoon, our Miss Nicole has been hired to be prep cook in the kitchen on board the Alaska Railroad. She will begin the first of May, so has to leave on the ferry to get to Anchorage on April 22 (her brother's 18th birthday). We will be driving her the five hours to Bellingham, Washington to get on the ferry. I will not, not, not, not cry until she is out of sight, then all bets are off.

I remember saying goodbye to Jasmine years ago when we took her to the airport and she flew to New York to stay with a camp friend. I smiled and waved and then, as soon as she was out of sight, I put my head against the window and sobbed. It is hard to let these precious creatures go.

Having Nicole leave taps into feelings of another daughter I was close to once and who left. . . and who I miss every single day. I know that Nicole and I will call, IM, text, email and write letters all the time but damn, it ain't the same thing as sitting next to each other on the couch and giggling and watching "Supernatural" and writing letters. I won't be able to reach out and touch her. I will be surrounded by testosterone, all of whom love me, but none of whom understand girl codes like . . . talking with our eyes instead of words, splitting a cookie so all of the calories fall out first, and crying at the same commercials. It is really hard when your best friend and your daughter share the same body and decide to move to Alaska.

The job sounds so exciting and I really am thrilled for her. I just need to get my heart to match where my head is and all will be well. I will dive into work, spend more time with Joseph and the boys, read more often and keep the Alaska post office hopping to keep up with letters and packages. I will adjust . . but first, I will mourn and I think that's ok. I am giving myself permission.

Last night, a friend told us that the average ratio of men to women in Alaska is 50 to 1. If the girl was excited before, she is ecstatic now. We've already had the birth control/safe sex talk, so when I raised my eyebrows at her, she knew just what I meant.

So, the next few weeks will be interesting ones that go by tooooooo fast. I am on day five of having vertigo. I tried standing in place with eyes closed today to see what would happen and there is no doubt I would go down if a trustworthy husband wasn't standing there to stop me from falling. So, I guess I won't be operating any heavy machinery this week. Darn . . . so much for that forklift.

Vertigo, Limbo and Changes

These are dizzying, frustrating, challenging times, my friends. Top issues going on these days . . .

First, I got hit with a vertigo attack three days ago. Not the crisis level attack where I am vomiting and shaking and crying, but the afraid to turn head, stand up, lie down, move kind. If you've never had vertigo, it really is quite the experience. A scary merging of being drunk, dizzy, free falling, and in outer space where there is no gravity. You turn your head and the entire planet moves in a different direction. Nausea. Eyes jumping left and right out of your control. You get afraid to move at all. Little wonder I haven't driven in over a year, eh? Cannot imagine what might happen if I had one of those while behind the wheel. Wait. Yes, I can imagine it which is why I don't do it.

Second, we are living in limbo. Nicole was interviewed Wednesday for the job on the Alaska train. It was the second interview. They loved her and said she would know about the job on Friday. We waited and waited and finally called. She was told that they were calling with job offers that afternoon . . . and she was "most likely" on the list. . . but if we didn't hear, they would call for sure on Monday. Yes, Monday. Makes for a long weekend not knowing if she is supposed to be packing for Alaska or not. It is such a huge life change, it would be nice to know if it is happening or not. Sigh. Monday.

And finally, the changes (as if those weren't enough . . . ) We just changed cell phone services and we're all trying to learn how to work these new fangled things. Two of us got touch screens . . . and I just keep yelling, CORYN, how do I work this thing . . . makes me think of George Jetson on the treadmill calling for Jane . . . and how old that memory makes me. These phones make me feel old too. Technology is moving a little too fast for my comfort these days.

Everything else is going okay. Work is continuing to tax me (and don't even get me started on the topic of taxes themselves) and I am currently writing more than 800 assessments that are making my eyes cross and my fingers fall off. . . I'm on 350 and counting.

Thanks for stopping by. Leave me a comment so I know it was YOU.

The Orr Family Update

I have avoided posting because every time I think about doing it, I then think, but nothing new has happened. Won't that be boring to read?

Of course, I know how disappointed I am when I go to a friend's blog and they haven't posted anything new, and then guilt piles in that I might be letting others down by not posting on my own. Sheeesh.

So, while nothing monumental has changed around here, this is my update.

1. The diet continues. The family has lost about 110 pounds altogether and I am personally down 25 lbs. I wish it would SPEED up though. The sun actually peeked out yesterday creating an unexpectedly beautiful afternoon and Nicole, Caspian and I headed over to the track. I walked a mile and then ended the walk by dancing to Glee's rendition of "Bad Romance" with my kids . . . yes, in front of people. I love my family.

2. Nicole is being interviewed for two different jobs in Alaska this week. One is on the railway and that is the one she is hoping, hoping, hoping for. She will spend time in Anchorage and Fairbanks. The other one is working at a resort in Denali. To understand how I feel about all of this, look at my last post. Thrilled and excited yet dreading the idea of life without her in our house.

3. Caspian is putting plans in place for leaving in May to live on an organic farm and build yurts. He is . . . . if you know him at all, you will know what a SHOCK this is . . . .strongly considering cutting his hair. Caspian's hair is almost all the way down to his butt and has been his pride and joy for years. He recognizes, however, that working on a farm and taking care of it, especially with out a mom around to braid it, will be hard. I haven't told him that the minute he cuts it, he will probably look at least one to two years older. Or that I will cry when he does it. I think it is a wise decision and indicates that his self esteem is growing, which is a very good thing. Although he will only be about 90 minutes from home on this farm, we will most likely only see him once a month or so and yes, that same heart pain is here.

4. Work is still coming in at a somewhat steady rate but still nothing like it was back in 2008 or so. Of course, I don't want to work as hard as I did then either. If I didn't have to pay bills, we would be fine. :) Could someone please write an excuse to the IRS for me?

5. The older I get, the more I have in common with my mom and it sucks that I can't call her and talk to her about it. I finally "get" some of what she was going through and yet we can't talk on the phone and empathize with each other. I miss her.

6. We are trying to imagine this summer with only one child at home. Maupin in the summer with ONE child? Life is Good conference with one? It will feel very strange. Can anyone say "empty nest syndrome"?

So that's an update on life. Breakfast is on the table so I am off to have some. I take my meals where I can get them these days. Stay tuned.

Ambivalence, Your Name is Mother

How is it possible, in even the most complex human brain and heart, to feel incredible excitement and happiness for something while also feeling like it might rip your heart out in the process?

I know that you guys know how close my daughter Nicole and I are. Next to my husband, she is the dearest friend I have. We get the same jokes. We communicate without saying a word. She is an amazingly wonderful person inside and out. For months now, we have focused on finding her a way to travel and see the world. We've gotten books, surfed the net, made phone calls and she has applied to dozens of jobs.

Last night one of them called her and said they wanted to interview her for a potential new job.

In Wasilla.

That would be Wasilla, ALASKA.

She had the first of two interviews today and did great.

They want her in seven to 10 DAYS.

Months? Fine.

Weeks? I can deal.

DAYS????? Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

I'm simply not ready. It was fine when it was all dreaming and theory and some days, but now it has merged into a possible reality and I find myself vacillating between helping her looks things up and planning what she would pack and where she would live and how much she would earn with the stark and terrifying thought that she will be GONE. Not just for the afternoon, the day, the week or even the month. Just GONE. Far away.

And I will write her amazing letters and send her even better care packages. And we will text and IM and call.

And when I push past the stark pain of trying to imagine her not here, I am so excited for her, I can hardly stand it. To be 20 years old and standing at the edge of exploring the world before things like careers, marriage and children stand in the way, how could I not be excited?

But now? Next week? Really?

Sigh.

Anyone who thinks motherhood is easy has never had kids.