Monday, April 24, 2006


Burns, germs, aches, pains. Happiness.

My aunt and uncle are vacationing for a week in Welches, Oregon, in the mountains near grand Mt. Hood, renting a two bedroom condo. They invited us up and so we drove up there Saturday evening. It’s only a 40-45 min drive from our home and we’ve been there before, and while its very beautiful I don’t remember it being quite so gorgeous as it was this weekend.

Sunday morning we woke up and drove 15 minutes up the mountain to a snow park. We bundled the girls and took them inner-tubing for the first time in their lives. Fortunately, the park has a tow-rope otherwise I would have died after the first hike to the top, a permanent snow angel. After my multiple back surgeries I’ve never quite gotten back into shape and knew the day would likely kill me off, but nothing could have kept me away from enjoying my daughters’ play.

After sliding down several times, Sydney informed me she had to go potty. So she and I stomped into the lodge at the top of the hill while her sister and daddy stayed behind. Anyone who has gone skiing, snowboarding, sledding, or any other snow activity knows what a pain it is to use the bathroom. Double that with children. They ought to make a suit with a built-in urinal system, or maybe diapers like the Chinese do when waiting in line at the subway.

We were alone in the 12 stall restroom. I carefully peeled the layers off Sydney. I had both girls’ and my own hats and gloves stuffed in the front of my ski jacket. As I bent over to do the post-pee dabbing, I dropped my black knit hat into the toilet. I snatched it out, hoping to have been so fast that the fluid molecules hadn’t touched the hat molecules. Right.

I lifted Sydney off and rushed to a sink, filling it with hot water and soap. Sydney watched me with great interest. The old faucet didn’t have hot and cold marked and I blasted the cold water to rinse my hat. Instead, the water went from Hot to Blister and I burned my knuckles.

By the time we got back outside David and Summerlyn were at the bottom of the hill, so Sydney and I tubed our way back down and I handed David all the gloves and hats, handing him my own last. He looked down in surprise at the soggy hat in his hand, but not so surprised as when I told him I fished it out of the toilet. That was amusing for a few moments until I told him it was washed. But still.

That night David, who apparently still loves me, and I left the twinlets with my aunt and uncle and we went to Don Guido's, a good Italian restaurant in Rhododendron. The food was excellent, save for the garlic bread. We sat in a half-circle vinyl booth, surrounded by several others, so we felt like we were on the teacup ride at Disneyland, the Italian version, expecting to start spinning any moment. Soft rock from the seventies played overhead and David and I looked deeply into each other’s eyes and spoke the lyrics in time with the music, in very droll tones.

“Every sha la la la, every whoa uh oh, still shines. Every shing a ling ling…”

The other patrons probably thought we were on leave from the state hospital, as we snickered our way through our pasta. But that’s our way of bonding. The most romantic thing was later when we crawled into bed, smiling. Not because anything was going to be any action that night but because our tiny girls were sleeping in their sleeping bags at the foot of our bed and we were comforted by their presence and our hearts were in love with the togetherness of our family.


At Tuesday, April 25, 2006 5:35:00 AM, Blogger lostgirl said...

Sheryle: LOL! I get the strange bonding rituals.....we too have ours, where anyone else thinks we are completely nuts!
Get the great big family togetherness thing too! It's a powerful feeling. Mine, this weekend sitting on the patio, Poodle playing Stairway to Heaven on his guitar and Manly Man working on his autobiography for the adoption paperwork and the 6 cats all close by.

At Wednesday, April 26, 2006 8:06:00 PM, Blogger Sheryle said...

lostgirl: isn't it awesome? During times like these I just can't complain about aches and pains. Just simple moments like what you describe. Perfection.

At Thursday, April 27, 2006 4:37:00 AM, Blogger lostgirl said...

Sheryle: Absolute perfection! It's one of those moments when I feel that overwhelming sense of the Holy Spirit that we've talked about previously.

At Thursday, April 27, 2006 4:32:00 PM, Blogger Sheryle said...

Yes, I agree!


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