Memo to my new Househusband**

*Aaron was released from his corporate job after 9 years of work. It actually came at the perfect time because he is ready to jump into his own photography business. He was always supposed to be in an artistic, independent career--I'm so happy for him.

To: Aaron Todd Courter
From:Kristen J. Courter
Date:November 18, day of your job layoff
Re: Reorganization of household duties

Now that Mr. A. Courter does not have to report to his 8-5 corporate job, it has come to my attention that certain household duties that were once the domain of Mrs. K. Courter, can now be reevaluated so as to find the most effective and fair distribution of time and energy. Personal preferences may also be taken into consideration.

After a week of allowed basking-in-the-glow of your new freedom, Mrs. K. Courter will expect the following to be negotiated:
1. She hates, hates dirty dish pile-up in the sink area. Swift clean-up of used dishes and putting away of clean dishes from dishwasher will be expected.
2. Perhaps a deal can be brokered whereas Mrs. K. Courter will wash, fold, and put away children's clothes, while Mr. A. Courter will do the same for adult clothing. Mrs. Courter will gently remind him about separating out colors and hanging bras up to airdry.
3. Mrs. Courter was quite excited when Mr. Courter mentioned he would like to take Holly to her ballet class. Chaffeur-duties to pre-K, tennis and ballet lessons can now be alternated or shared.
4. The planning, shopping, and preparing for meals will be a challenge, but Mrs. Courter knows a deal can be worked out. Perhaps on Mondays (piano lesson days) and days that she substitute teaches, Mr. Courter can be responsible for the dinner meal.
5. Mrs. Courter promises to be respectful of Mr. Courter's professional and personal time for photography. She understands he is nurturing his artistic soul as well as his business, and she will make accommodations accordingly.
6. Mrs. Courter will write no more Househusband memos; it is way too corporate-ish.

Nine years...and counting

Day 95 - Anniversary
Originally uploaded by Aaron Courter

Aaron and I were married on November 4, 2000 on a crisp day with light rain showers (foreshadowing Oregon?) and lots of family and friends. I was almost 22, he was almost 23 and I still had about a month of college left to earn my Bachelors degree. We chose that particular Saturday because it was not an OU home football game in Norman, and we wanted our Oklahoma friends to drive to Dallas for the ceremony! We had only lived in the same city for 5 months, although we had long-distance dated for 2 years. We spent lots of time in the computer labs at our respective campuses, falling in love via email. I thought Aaron was tall and handsome and a wonderfully sincere, thoughtful person. He was introverted, but a good leader, wary of small talk and full of dreams. He was so different from the loud, overwhelming, boisterous fraternity-type guys that I had encountered at OU, and it didn't hurt his case that he was Totally Into Me.

In retrospect, we probably underestimated how our differences would cause friction in a lifelong marriage--what lovestruck 21 year old can think that far ahead?? I am constantly pushing for dinner parties and Aaron just wants a couple of close friends around (even them infrequently). I want to play tennis together and go skiing, while Aaron prefers listening to music and looking at digital photography websites. I am all chatter and activity, while Aaron is silence and stillness.

But when you marry so young, you grow and change together. His differences have brought out more introspective sides of me and have stretched me as a person. I certainly would never have experienced living in the northwest without him. I have forced him to meet new people and my encouragement has helped him be courageous in life decisions.

We took a long hike in the Gorge after our breakfast out yesterday and while Aaron was busy composing waterfall photos, I forced myself to stand still and watch the yellow leaves gently falling from the huge trees. I thought about how that fall is the leaf's last experience of life, letting go of the branch and taking to the breeze, landing where it may to become part of the autumn forest carpet. That's kind of adult life, too, you know, if you want to get all metaphorical. It all goes by so fast, a free-fall in some ways; you can plan and plan but you still land in surprising places most of the time. Well, before I get all Walt Whitman, let me just say that it's already been almost a decade, and I'm glad to be sky-diving (or maybe we're soaring? It's all semantics) with Aaron.

Sickie

Aaach, it is Friday and I got nothin. Well, I've got a horribly congested nose and fatigued body and I hate hate hate these cold weather germs.

I do have something to write about...a collaborative writing effort proposed by my fearless book club leader. I'm excited and scared and need a giant kick in the pants to Just Do It--the writing, that is.

More later.

A Cuppa

Good Coffee Model
Originally uploaded by Aaron Courter

So I turned off 'Biggest Loser' last night from the DVR, and PBS was airing a special on the history of coffee. They explained its origins in Africa and Turkey, and its eventual spread across Europe, and how each country took that holy bean and made it into something unique to their own tastes.

And the idea was put forth that the rise of coffee's popularity as a social beverage, to be sipped with talking with others in cafes, coincides with the revolutionary spirit of the 1700's. Before then, people, even children, drank a lot of wine. And men drank a lot of hard liquor on top of their everyday wine. So really, Europe was in something of an alcoholic haze for decades. Coffee becomes en vogue, and all of a sudden Europe sobers up and looks around and decides things have gotta change! Viva la revolution! Viva la caffe!

Well, I'm a bit addicted to that wonderful brown liquidy goodness, myself. I never liked coffee all that much until moving here to Portland. Now I look forward to my morning brew, like it really makes me happy to turn the corner in my kitchen and reach for the coffeemaker. As the Italian brewmaster, Francesco Illy, explained on the show, coffee is the only beverage that simultaneously relaxes and wakes you up! Mmmm, it is a good thing.

Newsy Travel Update with Pictures that were Definitely Not Taken by Aaron

Sorry for the missed Friday...I meant to blog as soon as we returned from Texas, but there was laundry and grocery shopping and preschool and lots of DVR-catchup to be done.
I flew to Dallas with Jonathan and Holly to see my parents and Grandma, as well as some good friends. In case you didn't know, I am not the photographer in the family, and forgot to even pack my little point-and-shoot. But we had some great times with the wonderful Heidi and her amazing kids, our bosom buddies the McCartys at the End of the Road Farm, Sarah and JR, and a family birthday party for both kids that seemed like Christmas with the amount of gifts they racked up.

My parents were gracious hosts to my preschoolers and me, and continue to prove themselves as the best Nana and Grandad ever. My mom had creative art projects for them to do, my dad took Jonathan bowling and putting. And Here's Dad tolerating my children's love of all things "poopy." Ohmygosh, poop and butt jokes are the funniest things ever, don't you know?


And watch out, because after they yell, "I see your butt!" and bust out laughing, they will fly through the air and catch bad guys with their new superhero capes, hand-sewn by my mom, see below:


On Sunday, I buckled Jonathan in, and we took off for the 3 hour drive to Norman, Oklahoma. As we neared campus, I got teary-eyed with fond memories of my amazing college experience and our first few years as a family. I made Jonathan hop out of the car so I could snap his picture with my phone camera in front of the house where he spent his first year. Of course, he did not remember it, and did not want his picture taken, but moms are brutal like that. Next we went over to campus and parked by the stadium. I saw an open gate that led straight into the stands, and we held hands and ran up the ramp like we were football players. We sat on a bleacher, shivering in the chilly October air, and Jonathan murmured, "This is where the Sooners get touchdowns, Mom?"
"Yes, my son. Do you feel the magic in the air?" I answered.




Chances are SLIM that either of my kids will ever attend OU, but I loved showing him around and I think it is smart to show your children how important and special a college education/experience can be. On the drive home, I asked Jonathan if he might want to go to OU when he is old enough. He said, "Oh, no, Mom, I want to go to college in Portland, down the street." Oh, precious boy! He still wants to live down the street from me.

Dear Holly,

Three years ago, you looked like this, all scrunchy cheeks and calm expression. Oh, how we adored you, our little pink bundle, already so different from your big brother.


It is really really hard to believe that you are now three years old. This picture shows what a ham you are--donning the cool shades and posing for your daddy's camera. You love to put on princess dresses now and dance to music, and you can sing the "Do Re Mi" song perfectly (and many others). People everywhere comment on your precocious vocabulary and amazing people skills. (Hmm, guess you're a lot like your mom in that regard!)



So you love, love, love your big brother, but he's a big pain-in-the-bootie right now in your life. You two can go from laughing and playing to a screaming brawl in no time flat. Usually he is bothering you--taking something of yours or just looking at you funny, and you scream in protest. But you are also lost without him; if we are stuck at home while he is at Pre-K, you don't know what to do with yourself. I am so thankful you have your smart, funny big brother. And I'm glad he has you.


Well, here you are last month steering the river boat. A fitting metaphor, I thought, because I firmly believe you will be the captain of your own life. You have gumption and an adventuresome spirit, and that alongside your big smile and bigger heart will take you far, girl. At dinner, you still put your hand on Daddy's arm or mine (whoever is sitting next to you) and sigh, "I love you." We love you, too, Holly J.

Tennis, anyone?

So I signed my little boy up for tennis lessons. We have an indoor racquet center biking distance from our house and they offer a weekly drop-in class for kids, taught by the tennis pros who work there, for $5 for over an hour of instruction. Score!! Jonathan took a little summer tennis camp through parks and rec for 4--6 year olds, and he loved it. Have to admit, I was a little surprised, but hey, let's go with it!

The racquet center has three indoor courts and a lobby area with glass windows to watch the action. The last two weeks I have sat on the edge of my seat, watching with anticipation for when it was my little boy's turn to swing his little racquet. And then, oh! the thrill! when he got it over the net!

Back at home, I filled Aaron in on the lesson and how much he liked it, and how much I liked watching it. "Whoa, you are going to be worse than me," he commented.

"What do you mean? At being a sports parent?" I asked.

"Uhhh, yeah. You are pretty intense."

I suppose it is a mixture of my love to teach, and being a competitive person, and living a bit vicariously through my kids. I have dreams for them (hey, I will be happy to travel to Paris for the French Open) although I hope I will never force them to take on my dreams. So, it looks like I have lots of sideline cheering (and backseat coaching?) in my future, unless my kid gives up on the sports idea and goes for the chess team or yearbook or marching band. All of which is totally okay.

Getting ready for the Wimple

Happy Friday! It's especially happy for me because last night I went to an audition call-back for The Sound of Music stage musical being put on by Gallery Theater in downtown McMinnville, OR. And I was offered the part of the Mother Abbess!

I stumbled upon the audition listing and freaked out because The Sound of Music has always been my favorite favorite movie, and I've always dreamed of playing Maria onstage someday. It felt like the firm hand of Fate saying, "Here you go! Your favorite show! Go for it!" So I did. I walked into those auditions, my heart pounding, and gave it my all. My feedback was great, but the first thing they said was, "Would you consider auditioning for the role of the Mother Abbess?" At last night's callbacks, the director called me up and handed me the music book turned to the page with the song "Climb Every Mountain," and said "Do you know how to sightread?" I smiled when the vocal coach cut in, "I think she knows this song, Seth."

Yes, I do know that song. And it is a Big Killer Song. And I get to sing my heart out standing in the middle of the stage at the climax of the first act. And I won't have to drive the hour to McMinnville for gobs of rehearsals until the show opens.

So I felt two things leaving that rehearsal: so flattered that the director offered me the role right there on the spot, and also a little sad to let go of the dream of being Maria, the heroine. It just so happens that my wonderful friend from high school is visiting from Sacramento this weekend. She was a theater major and worked for California Musical Theater as a casting associate. She helped me understand that chances are the minute they saw this tall, brunette lady walk in with a pretty big trained voice, they immediately thought Mother Abbess and not Maria. "It's the business!" she shrugged.

So there you have it. Can't wait for my kids, especially, to come and watch me onstage. Follow every rainbow, people, til you find your dream.