An Overdue Trip Well Worth the Wait

San Francisco was san-frantastic. I loved it more than I could imagine, considering the whole of my experience with the left coast is news of their left politics and the high percentage of left-handers. Great wine, cool weather, plenty of visual oomph, aaaand it didn't quake, shake and float off into the ocean while we were there. What's not to love?

So this blog is just about the first two days of our trip to make it a more manageable typing and reading experience.

First, though, it wasn't what we expected, and that was good and bad, starting with wine country. I thought it would be much more high brow. You would pass by a winery and then a trailer, a beautiful little town and then a gravel pit and truck yard. Guessing what eye sore came next became our little running joke. (Oh and another little game I liked to play was 'spot the solar panels'--much like when my sister and I were kids and would yell out "AIRBRUSH" when we drove into Panama City for vacation with my parents.)

When we first arrived, we drove through downtown and across the Golden Gate Bridge and ended up detouring to eat and browse Sausalito. It was wonderful with divine views of the city, a great personality and adorable cafes. Sausalito was also our first intro to the fact that even the tiniest place would have hard-to-pronounce sandwiches and mysterious ingredients. Delicious, but not the straight forward food you find in Texas.

After a wonderful morning strolling that town, he headed north for the official beginning of our first leg of the trip in Sonoma County. We stayed at the Hyatt in Santa Rosa, which I wouldn't recommend. While it had a pretty facade, they nickel-and-dimed us for everything(--hello, even McDonald's gives FREE wifi!) and it was devoid of personality. Trust me that if Kyle and I can't scrape personality from those around us after we have been drinking wine, than there is none to be found. Santa Rosa is a cute little town(if you call 161,ooo people little), again with the odd dichotomy of froo-froo hotels right on top of the homeless shelter. We did go out one night in Santa Rosa and it was interesting in it's own right. The first bar we went to had a suspect- looking black bus out front, which turned out to be the tour bus for the guitarist from the Scorpions. We also stopped into the Toad in the Wall next door which was so bad we didn't even finish our beers. The singer was bad mouthing the south and I got an ugly reminder from a lonely lesbian that, yes, some people really are fine with being rude and disconnected from the rest of the human race.

The last bar was great with live music and $16 glasses of wine. We mourned the fact we didn't go there first and finally headed back to the hotel.

On that note, when you go to Northern Callie, just get ready to bend over, grab your ankles and hand over your wallet.

Anyways, it was hard to get our bearings on where to go and what to do at first, but Kyle proved to have killer travel instincts, the first sign of this being when we stumbled across the Kendall-Jackson winery. KJ proved to be auspicious not only for the wonderful taste explosion I was to have, but for the very good advice our tasting expert gave us that helped us navigate the next few days. They had a wine and food pairing so unbelievable that had you only heard the audio of that delectable experience, you would have thought I was having an hour long orgasm. Each course was designed to bring out the true fullness of each wine. OH MY GOD. Sitting outside on the patio in the gardens with a handsome man, succulent food and elegant beverages, what more could a girl ask for? We had made a pact that we would not buy bottles of wine from every place we visited, but broke it on that very first afternoon. (Notice the telltale bag below.)

The next morning we drove to Armstrong Redwood State Natural Reserve and went on a six mile hike. The majestic redwoods tower over you with perspective-inspiring majesty and the peaceful mood seeps into your entire being. The hike was on the challenging side and I was glad Kyle brought our camel-packs.

Because we were already an hour north, we wound our way over to the famous Hwy 1 and drove the gorgeous and at-times nauseating turns up the coast. (Yes, those are sea lions. So cool!)

Let me tell you, California drivers are not scared to drive with one foot on the accelerator and and one foot at the doorway to heaven, and Kyle fell right in line. Can you see my face turning as green as the vegetation just at the memory? The scenery made up for it, but I only let go of the 'oh-shit' handle above the passenger door to take pictures.

We cut back south on the main highways and stopped in Healdsburg on a recommendation. Do not miss this little gem. Actually if you go to Sonoma, try to find a smaller hotel or b and b on a winery around Healdsburg. It's that good. We grabbed a divine Pinot, that turned out to be this particular wine maker's first official production of just 300 bottles (Chavez) and sat on the square in the waning sunlight snacking on salami, local cheese and olives. Perfection.

Well, right now, fifty lbs of perfection just climbed his sleepy self into my lap and so I say adieu and will reminisce more with you next time.

Drama at the lemonade stand

So I finally cave to the idea of a lemonade stand, despite the fact that it is 104 degrees. (At these temps, we don't even bother with heat index, because it is just f%#$n hot.) We set up on the corner of a local park with a 4-way stop and shade. Just smile and wave boys. just smile and wave.

We have a nice customer walk up to us with his wife and a few moments later we are joined as well be some friends. Chatting, smiling, sweating--it's all good until CRASH.

In slo-mo we all turn around and realize there is a marroon SUV 'parked' at a very disturbing angle next to our truck. Kyle and the other adults start to run over to the parking lot while I stay at the corner with the boys. The trouble is going to be handled and I am not ready to deal with the fact that this just became one seriously expensive lemonade stand so I turn back to our entrepreneurial undertaking.

But when I glance back, the woman and her two dogs and her red SUV are gone. Wow, that was a quick exchange of information, I think.

Or not. Hit and run, people. What the %$#^%? Seriously? Apparently after I turned around, she pulled out and swerved hitting the curb and veering off into the grass before disappearing around the corner without giving us the courtesy of clearly viewing her liscence plate.

So a cute cop shows up to take our info, but of course they haven't been able to find her. We are still vigilant though eyeing every marroon SUV for damage to her rear passenger side.

So the boys made roughly $40 and are now on the verge of buying themselves a bike ramp, which I am very nervous about. Why do little boys (hell big boys too for that matter) have to be interested in all things that can break your bones?

We will be out $300 for our deductible, not to mention the fact that not only am I driving a pick-up in a suit and heals everyday to and from work that is stick shift, (yes, that does mean stop-and-go traffic for up to 100 miles a day, thank you for noticing) it means that now I get to drive a wrecked, stick shift, pick up which will now be undervalued and difficult to sell.

Did I mention it is pretty much impossible to get in and out of said vehicle in a lady like fashion and that I wear a skirt or dress almost every day. Yup. Sexay.

But I cannot be bothered with that now, because we are leaving for Sonoma Valley in an hour and reality will be here when I get back.

Uugghhh

A flash back from 5 months ago in the early days of my worst work experience ever:

Attitude-smattitude. It seems to be a topic of constant debate in my head these days because I am embroiled in cold calling and training--both of which can be serious energy drains. Back and forth I go (not unlike the constant u-turns I make learning a new territory--in a stick shift, don't even get me started). Gung-ho one call, and down in the dumps the next depending on the degree of reception I received. Was she warm and friendly until realizing I was a salesperson? Or was he indifferent and on edge until I happened to small talk about something that interested him?

So I say to myself, "Self, You cannot be swayed but such flimsy impulses as those coming from a bored receptionist. Chin up, shoulders back. Learn to serve others through your job." A very philosophical--yeah even religious--to be of service to everyone, no matter the endeavor--even cold calling. Until I end up wanting to service the back side of someone's head.

Then I will think, Why not take the opportunity to become really, really good at this. Nobody hates doing things they are good at. That idea holds up for a while, until I think about hookers. I bet they hate doing things they are good at.

But I will not stop. I run through more pick-me ups. What else would you be doing on a Tuesday morning? (No shock why that one didn't work.) Whistle while you work. The more you complete today, the less you have to do in the future. (This idea actually does hold water pretty well actually.)

I change activities and make phone calls for a while to give my clutch foot a break. I bargain with myself that if I call on just two more, I will not feel guilt over the M&Ms I am going to reward myself with. (I guess it would be redundant to write about why I have gained five pounds since starting work.)

Never Passe

Chaka Khan is on Phineas and Ferb (my boys' favorite cartoon). That is so hilarious I can't even stand it. First because who doesn't love a good blast from the past and second because Kyle, to this day, will say, "Chaka Khan" any time something sassay (yes, that's sassy with a sassay accent).

I was a little too sassay this weekend myself and sent myself home two nights in a row by 10:30. Too much overindulgence--yikes! (I thought they were exaggerating about the perfect margarita at Baja, but there weren't.) I could blame it on the fact that I am starting to let a little bit of "freak out" creep in regarding the soon-to-be desperate need to make commission checks. Or I could just own up to the fact that I occasionally like to act like I'm twenty again.

Either way, too much is too much.

So I am going to try to fit yoga back into the schedule this week to make amends to my physical health. (Sorry little liver. Just kidding kidneys.) I will also try to start packing a healthy lunch. Did I mention we also put ourselves on a cash diet?--thriftay. And I had better start selling and getting commission before the savings runs out. But one thing at a time.

Here I am talking about how too much is too much and then I decide to cut back on enjoying beverages, adding exercise, working harder, spending less. Where is my Libra balance when I need it?

Role Reversal

So it turns out that Kyle is a better house keeper than I--and it is glorious! It is absolutely amazing to walk in to a clean home and I didn't do it. Lovin' it, lovin' it, lovin' it. And the truth was that I wasn't any kind of house keeper. I was a writer. And a mother. And a wife. And I take to those things with a focus that is sometimes good and sometimes bad. When I am being one, I am usually not being the others (with the exception that mother sneaks in and demands its due attention whenever it wants.) People could come over unannounced and I wouldn't be embarrassed (much), but let's just say my source of pride did not come from clean baseboards.

But the blessings of going back to work have surpassed that of an effortlessly, clean home. Everyone should be so lucky to have the opportunity to walk in each other's shoes. We keep having these moments when we just look at each other, realizing I am repeating his lines and he is reciting mine and we go, "Ohhhhhhh, that's what you always meant." And we just laugh. He now understands why I would follow him around like a puppy dog when he got home (because I hadn't talked to an adult all day). I now know that when he said he didn't care if we went out to dinner or not on a Friday night, he really didn't care--he was just happy to be off work. He got irritated the other day when I didn't put the cinnamon back in the cabinet. (He rightly chose to keep that to himself at the time.)

One of my favorite moments came when he was mentioning how he wasn't able to complete one of the tasks he had on his to-do list, and, with a straight face, I just tilted my head and furrowed my brow saying, "Well, you have all day tomorrow to do it." Then I smiled, cuz I couldn't help it. He just shook his head, knowing how many times he had said that to me, unaware of what a day at home is really like. "Yeah. OK," he said and laughed despite himself and just went back to watching the Rangers.

I am sure this honeymoon phase won't last forever, but I am trying to enjoy while it does. It seems also that we are both better equipped to be sensitive to the other's daily plight since we have been there, done that. Not a bad way to function.

Who Flipped my World Upside Down?

So many up and down feeling about going back to work. I am honestly staying on top of them by focusing on this as an adventure and giving us a pat on the back for undertaking said adventure. I mean really, I didn't think I really understood the hugeness of completely switching roles with the man, not having my time, my writing, my kids all to myself all the time, not knowing what our financial future holds--all of it.

And Kyle is facing his own interesting emotions. He loves staying at home (who wouldn't?), but just doesn't want anyone to know about it. He hasn't yet come to terms with the phrase "stay at home dad". Giving up the burden of being the sole provider is taking some getting used to. I can only imagine how nerve-wreckingly slippery that must be for him. And going back to school is daunting. He gripes that I can't understand what it feels like to go back since I am a bookworm, nerd and writer. Fair enough, but I did already take my plunge into the unknown and intimidating, and I am dutifully swimming in it Monday through Friday. So I think i get the emotion behind it. He wants to know why I "have to tell everybody about our business". But it's not like I have taken out a billboard on 35E saying "Kyle is going back to school!" (Although, writing about it on a public blog might be close...) It's just that when people find out that I went back to work, their immediate next questions are who's taking care of the boys(especially since it is summertime) and what's Kyle doing? Who wouldn't ask that? And I think saying things, especially scary things, outloud keeps you accountable to following through on them.

But here's the real deal on this whole role-reversal: it's like a once in a lifetime chance to start over without having to give up what matters the most. It's asking yourself, What do I want to be when I grow up? and really getting to do it...At age 35!

So cool and of course it's uncomfortable. There can be no growth inside your comfort zone.

On my side, it has been interesting how easy it was to slip the business suit back on. Now, of course, I still feel like I have no clue what I am doing and that any minute they will discover that I am actually a fraud with a great way with words during an interview. Yikes! But, the physical walking out the door, doing what it takes, staying engaged in the present activity so I don't get overwhelmed, it just happened. And how quickly that nagging need to be good at my job (and make a lot of money) came back on me. I KNEW in college that I was meant to be a vice president or CEO of something. Five years later, I KNEW that I wasn't willing to sacrifice quality of life with family and friends for the climbing that would take. (And of course the twins helped to secure that notion since I was outnumbered the second they were born.) So maybe there has been a tiny bit of leftover corporativa inside all this time.

Well, who knew? I wish I would have enjoyed staying at home more instead of always chasing deadlines and stressing about money this past year. But, I guess I really know deep down, I'm not really a soap opera and bonbon kind of gal. (Although I should have at least tried it!)

It's also so hard right now being at peace with the idea that Kyle is here for the boys and not me. I know that's good and I know it's what God intends for us right now, but it's hard. When Kyle showed me pics of the boys on their camping trip with their big smiles in front of a backdrop that I had never seen, it hit me hard. I missed it. I missed those moment with them. And they are doing ok without me since daddy is there.

It's exhausting waking up at 5:30 every morning and worrying about getting to bed at a decent hour every night, but I'm sure that will pass. Kyle has made it as smooth and sweet as possible for me and I am amazed at what we are learning through this. (That is a whole other blog on it's own! Everyone should be so damn blessed to LITERALLY walk in each other's shoes. The world as we knew it has shifted so much it's giving us vertigo.) Who knew he could cook?

Anyhoo, the clock is glaring at me so I gotta run. I am late for traffic.

When did I get so short?!

Seriously. I just took a look at the photo of me below on my first day back to work. Can someone please tell when that happened. I look sawed off. You know, like cankles (where your calves go straight into ankles with no tapering) except my ribs go straight into my hips. What would that be? Rips? No, the irony is too much. How 'bout boobs straight into hips--bips?