Cradle To The Crave (Autobiography Of My Life)
"It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time."
The on going autobiography of my life.
Looking for a cliff notes version of my story? Click here
Public Service Announcement: This is the “About Me” Cradle-To-The-Grave Version. It’s long. There are lots of pictures at the bottom to offset the long-ness. Consider yourself warned.
I was born on September 17th, 1976 in Whittier, California. Which is obvious, since clearly I’m so witty. ;) Sorry, I’ve rarely been able to resist throwing out that incredibly lame joke.
Shortly after a year old birthday candle glowed atop my cake, my parents and I moved up north to Mountain View, California. I grew up on Gest Drive, which happened to be the suburban home of a street full of old people, with the exception of my best friend Jennifer, who was exactly my age and live 2 doors down from my house. Jen and I met, appropriately, at a rummage sale at a local high school. Because of course all good female friendships often involve an element of shopping. ;
My mom was a nurse-turned-stay-at-home-mom, and my dad worked for a trucking company in fuel purchase. Like all homes, we had ups and downs, but looking back I only see the ups. The hundreds of quirky things that now make fantastic stories around dinner tables. For example, save for a few inherited hand-me-down cars from other family members, my parents ONLY ever drove station wagons. It was apparently our family vehicle of choice. My dad would make dashmats out of old pieces of carpet and peel off the wood paneling on the side of the wagon, taking the car down to it’s grey primer, insisting that the wood paneling had to be removed because it “looked cheezy.” …As opposed to an unpainted vehicle rolling down the streets of ritzy Los Altos, suspiciously looking as if it were on its’ way to a demolition derby. #classy
In 1982, my little brother Scott was born, and I have been laughing ever since. Seriously. His presence in my life is a constant source of joy for me. The natural bond of growing up in the same household, coupled with both of us being the type to make a funny situation out of anything, has been the catalyst to so many treasured memories. Scott and I have become like those old high school buddies who sit around at their reunions year after year and laugh about the same jokes that happened a lifetime ago. Wanna know how lucky I am? I have both my parents and my brother all living an hour or so away, and I get to still see them all on a regular basis. Love them, and their quirks (as they love me, with mine) with all my heart.
The Carltons’ station wagon was constantly parked at First Baptist Church of Los Altos, where we established our church home. I grew up going to youth group, causing havoc at church camp, and singing off-key in bad dresses in the church youth choir. I started out at Springer Elementary, moved on to Blach Jr. High, and finally graduated from Mountain View High School in 1994… when Ace of Base and Boyz II Men were topping the Billboard charts. (Look it up, young ones, it’s too hard to explain the intense complexity of the musical scores of the repetitive Ace of Base jamz.) And.... of course.... my first car was a hand-me-down station wagon.
Continuing my career of bad singing and frumpy dresses, I blazed a trail back down to Southern California to attend Azusa Pacific University as a music major. Then an art major. Then realizing I wasn’t particularly good at either one of those subjects, I finally landed in the Communication Major wasteland, along with approximately 893 million other students at that time. At that time, the Comm major seemed to be the perfect soft, warm pair of sweatpants for those of us who had tried on other majors for size and been faced with the disappointing truth that they didn’t fit. Here are my 2 very intellectual, very scientific reasonings for becoming a Communication Major: Ready for it? A) I liked to talk. B) I didn’t have to take statistics to graduate.
My original life-plan was to meet my would-be husband in college, like many of the other church girls who had gone before me on the Christian College pilgrimage. It didn’t work out that way for me. I made up for lost time however, by graduating, returning to the Bay Area, meeting , speed-dating, and getting engaged to my husband Andrew within 5 weeks. 5 months later we were married at First Baptist Church of Los Altos, where I grew up and also where we had met. Truly, my wedding day was the happiest day of my life. It wasn’t the all-out Saturday Night Fever-esque reception dance party or the blue bridesmaid dresses with the hideous gloves (WHY did I insist those poor girls where those dumb, dyable gloves?!?!) Seriously, what was I thinking?) Nay, it was none of those things. Why my day was so intoxicatingly happy was because of the overwhelmingly thrilling and electrifying feeling I experienced knowing I was beginning a lifetime journey with the man I was meant to be with. I still look back and I’m overcome with memories of how strikingly exhilarated I felt: how I had never before (and have never since) been so certain about anything, and anyone in my life.
The years of 1999-2000 where we were kid-free, and appropriately partying like it was 1999. Save for a quick teaching career in 10th grade English at a local Christian High School, I really didn’t end up using that Communication degree for long. After hop-scotching from Bay Area apartment to apartment for a year, we bought our first house in Willow Glen, San Jose. By all means, it was a total blessing to get into that home. However, we did not have to be rocket scientists to realize Bay Area housing costs were not going to be friendly to those desiring to start a family and possibly eventually upsize their extremely expensive, 1960’s, old-school home. Andrew, who was an accountant for a large accounting firm at the time, began poking around different places to live while on business trips. We could basically go anywhere there was a branch of the firm, and we decided we were up for that adventure.
Motherhood came quickly and fiercely, like a rocket launching into the great beyond. It was December of the year 2000, and after a positive home pregnancy test, Andrew and I sat across the table from each other in a breakfast diner in Sunnyvale. Neither one of us could eat, nor we rightly knew our lives, from that moment on, would never be the same. In early 2001, we sold our home and picked up and moved to Seattle for the next chapter of our lives, thus ending my teaching career, which I traded for the title of “Stay at Home Mom.” My daughter Ashley came first, followed quickly by my son Alex, and then another son, Austin. Pregnancies and birthing were fairly easy for me, I was blessed with fast labors and deliveries, and what a very phenomenal miracle that all of my babies have been healthy and strong.
Personally, I wasn’t faring so well. I scrambled to pick up the pieces of shrapnel from the realization that I suddenly had 3 babies under age 3. A fourth positive pregnancy test was not far behind, and I had my daughter Ava. Life was busy, life was full, life was fun with all those little ones, but also stressful. Scant chance to drop a quick email to old friends, let alone remember who I was or get the opportunity to process who I was becoming. Before my parents moved up to WA, my mom would come up every month to help with the babies and save my sanity. (Thanks, mom!) But in the midst of all that I did kind of lose myself, and have fought hard to get myself back and reemerge, hopefully a little stronger, hopefully a little wiser. Definitely full of love for these little heartbeats that I had never known before.
In a fortunate and unforeseen turn of events that could have only been God, Andrew got an opportunity to work for a local airline, with zero experience in the industry whatsoever. He left the accounting firm and we sort of crossed our fingers and hoped it would all work out! Now, 15 years later, he has a real, legit “Big Boy” job as Chief Commercial Officer of the airline. It’s been an amazing privilege to watch God elevate him over the years to where he is today. I’m so incredibly floored by his talents and I love being a part of his career in the capacity of coming alongside him to support him and show up for him. It’s such a treasure, such an awesome adventure.
We planted ourselves in a suburb called Issaquah, about 40 mins from Seattle, where we bloomed for 10 years with 4 young kids. Those were some building years; a string of continual neighborhood parties, kid activities, church events, school events, family vacations, social events, you get the idea. Wonderful years, great memories created, and challenges were faced. You could say we made some mistakes. But I try not to label those situations as mistakes anymore, just learning opportunities with varying degrees of usefulness. Ups, downs, highs, lows, and all the in-between. You know, life.
Surprise of all surprises, although we were done having kids, we found ourselves expecting a 5th baby when Ava was 8 years old. This sudden and astonishing twist of events led us to need to simplify our lives drastically. Uprooting ourselves from our suburban life, we moved to a closer in to town to a beautiful mini-city/suburb where we could walk downtown, just like the old California Willow Glen days. We traded a lovely, elegant suburban home for a bigger, spacious family-friendly crib. Our kids switched schools, which of course was accompanied by a lengthy period of adjustment. In the long run, we were rewarded by sweet new relationships, quicker commutes, and a breathtaking, incredible new city to live in, which was still in close enough proximity to see old friends too.
Come spring of 2013, our unexpected gift of baby girl Annalise entered our family. Her birthday is March 2nd, which I’m thrilled to announce is also Jon Bon Jovi’s birthday...And she has been rockin’ our lives ever since. Unconvinced that she should be alone, I took my crazy pills (or didn’t take any pills, as it were) and decided she should not grow up alone. So….guess what. 13 months later, I went into labor and quickly gave birth (read: baby basically slid out on his own) to a sweet, cuddly, baby boy who we named Archer. My sweet and wonderful obstetrician, who had delivered all my babies, was once again right there by my side for baby number 6. And Andrew of course, assumed his usual birthing role as “leg holder”, followed up quickly by his secondary role of “umbilical cord-cutter.”
By this time, I had finally learned to do things differently. I didn't have to relive those old days where the competition of the Issaquah moms was intense and the drinking in the cul-de-sac was internse-r. I learned to ask for help, to hire and delegate all tasks that caused me stress and sucked the life out of me. Once I was in that groove, I realized I could do this and we went ahead and had Anders Mitchell (named after Andrew and my obstetrician, Mitch.) Finally, in Spetember of 2017, Andrew helped my doctor deliver the final chapter to our 8 volume baby book: a sweet little girl who looks just like the siblings who occupied the womb before her- Audrina Kathryn.
If you happen to still be with me, dear reader, congratulations. You’ve made it to the present. I am so surprised and delighted at how much I adore having a large family. Back at the altar in ’98, neither Andrew or I could have ever imagined having all these peeps in our tribe. However, the A-Team has grown to 8 kids; party of 10 total, and we are thrilled. You can probably imagine the jokes I get, for example I’ll throw out one of the classics: “Do you know what causes babies?” (Insert hysterical laughing at one’s own joke here.) But despite the stares we get walking through the airport and basically any other time we are out in public all together, I truly would not have it any other way.
So there you have it. And no, even though I could definitely use one, I don’t and won’t drive a station wagon again. With or without cheezy wood paneling.