Applicant #36: Carrie Radford

Carrie Radford is a mom from Seattle.

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A bit about me:

Hi there!

I'm Carrie Radford from Seattle, Washington. I'm part of an amazing, utterly nutty blended family that includes my husband Thor, my 10 year old daughter Riley and my 12 year old stepson Julian.

I am fortunate to have two hometowns: the one I was born in which is Louisville, Kentucky, and the one I proudly adopted almost 20 years ago -- Seattle! I spend a significant amount of time in both, which keeps life plenty crazy around here. Crazier still? We live on a sailboat in the heart of Seattle! With three years of living on the water under our belts, you couldn't *pry* us off the water. We love live-aboard life and all of Seattle's wonderful watery neighborhoods!

My years as the Queen of the Thrift Store have finally paid off. I now run an online store of vintage and re-purposed goods. With my incredibly talented husband Thor, I am also the other half of the photography and film making operation known as Radford Creative.

Since I stumbled on to life with the two coolest kids ever, it's no secret that I love being a mom. It's one adventure after the next with these two. I love sharing stories about the ups and downs of family life. Whether it's about schools, health, financial challenges (amen on that last one!), I look forward to hearing yours! Let's ride this crazy road together!

Thanks for checking out my video! And good look to all the Verity Moms out there!

My blog post:

So... lots of folks play 20 Questions, right? That's spiffy and all, but what if we change it up a bit and play a round of 20 Answers (in no particular order). Ready? Here we go...

20. How about we start with the way I sneeze. Honestly, until I met my amazing husband Thor, I never realized that immediately prior to the sneeze (which is something seismic, I'll grant you), I have to flap my hands just a little bit. Not a lot. Not like I'm try to taxi on a runway. Just a little flapping to get into the spirit of the the thing. I had no idea that I reliably do this. Now when I sneeze, my stepson calls from another room "Was there flapping??"

19. This leads me to my next revelation. Apparently I'm woefully lacking in self awareness. Thor was also the first to point out to me that when I go to sleep, this invariably means it's time for "nubbins" -- the point at which my hands beneath my chin (which should never be confused with the wind beneath my wings) take on a shape rather like that of the curled up feet of the Wicked Witch of the East after Dorothy bogarts her ruby slippers. No clue that I simply *have* to do this. None.

18. Also, I am easily entertained. Watching the clothes washer switch from fill to agitate is its own reward. Pure magic.

17. I don't ever walk on sidewalk grates. In my 40 years, I've never seen someone -- anyone -- inspect one of those things. Never met someone whose job was Assistant Inspector of Sidewalk Grates, or even Apprentice to the Assistant Inspector of Sidewalk Grates. Never knew a girl who got drunk at a party and made out with that guy down at Metro who screens Apprentices for the Assistant Inspectors of Sidewalk Grates. Does such a thing even exist? I couldn't say. But with thousands of folks clogging around on these grates all day and all night, aren't they under a tremendous amount of unchecked stress? Heck if I'm gonna be *that* girl -- the grate's last straw. There's some stuff you can control. There is some stuff you can't. I, therefore, don't ever walk on sidewalk grates.

16. Should you ever need to know what kind of jet just flew over your house, or what kind of plane flew over Germany circa 1941 -- should you need to definitively ID the submarine that somehow happened to surface in your kiddie pool, my stepson Julian is sooo your man. Honestly, that 12 year old über-brain of his has forgotten more knowledge of military history than most of us ever learn to begin with.

15. I will never die from eating ice cream fast. It's swell, I grant you. But I am relegated to bites the size of a bottle cap. So I'm always a one scooper and always in a cup. My sensitive teeth simply will not permit anything more. Same with super cold drinks... or liquid nitrogen (which I always tend to sip through a straw anyway).

14. I'm so afraid of heights that I have to cover my eyes in a movie with a scene of a high cliff, tall building, ledge, a steep curb, what have you. I usually punctuate it with something along the lines of "Uhhh... how 'bout no?". Pathetic.

13. People who mix upper and lower case letters in their signage without design, without intention, or without irony mustn't ever make signs... Or vote.

12. If you're a driver, I think all cars should have roofs that go down when the sun is out. Emergency services, the cops, UPS... sure, it makes sense that they don't. But the rest of us in our otherwise 4-seaters? Even if you're going to turn yourself in, why not at least enjoy the ride?

11. I truly love living on a boat again! When we told our kids that this was the plan, my 7 year old daughter paused thoughtfully and asked "I get to be a PIRATE??!"

10. I pride myself on not being a picky eater. I love to try new food... within reason. I won't be feasting on live bugs to prove it to you here. But generally speaking, I fancy adventurous fare now and then with one notable caveat. I am extremely picky about bananas. I love them, but only at exactly the right ripeness. They have to be slightly greenish, but not too green (I also love it that I'm married to an artist to whom I could just call out the Pantone banana color recipe, and he would bring me my perfect fruit... hee!). A wee bit greenish at the top and the bottom, and a nice lemony yellow in the middle is good. A giant blotch of squishy brown and yellow? What is that?! That is not a banana. That is a cake decorator's tube. And I don't think you're supposed to eat it.

9. I *must* throw one leg out from under the covers when I sleep. Fortunately I did this when swaddled as an infant, as well. Since I come from a long line of Newman leg-throwers who also happen to shy away from messy paternity suits, for my proud dad this was his smoking gun that I wasn't the milkman's kid.

8. My go-to fear about being stranded on a deserted island? Food and fresh water? Nope. Shelter? Escape? Not so you'd notice. It's that I'll have this one pair of already outdated glasses for all eternity (assuming they made it with me at all after 1. Oceanic 815 split in two at 35,000 feet, and 2. Sawyer didn't trade them for more mini-bottles of whiskey). What if they break? What if they fall down the cliff, get smashed by a coconut, get lost in the surf? People, I am Mr Magoo without my glasses. Clearly I would have to fashion an assortment of straps. These will itch.

7. My first car was a maroon 1976 Pacer DL with faux Native American interior accents. She was called the Big Boned Gal. Just try to teach that kind of cool.

6. I keep ticket stubs... vaguely religiously. Movies, concerts, trains, whatever. I think you can tell a lot about a person by learning what they watched, whom they paid to see, where they rode and when. And then there are those other "Aha!" moments... for example, I have utterly no recollection of seeing Royal Crescent Mob a million years ago. And yet I did. No recollection that the event ever occurred. I now chalk it up to some brownish banana bender.

5. I have a process for eating cereal. Some cereal goes in the bowl. The milk follows. All the cereal in the bowl gets eaten. But I'm never not still hungry. So more cereal goes in the bowl, but not more milk. Just enough cereal to keep a decent cereal to leftover milk ratio. Then that lesser portion of cereal gets eaten up. You with me? Now there's even less milk remaining. So we repeat. We add the proper amount of cereal to the ever diminishing milk supply until there's no milk left to which we can add cereal. Dig?

4. If I let you in on the freeway, you better wave already. I always always wave. My kids wave. I even wave back to the people who wave at me when I let them in, just to confirm that that I have duly noted their wave and it was appreciated.

3. If you park in a handicap accessible parking space with no tag of any kind designating your car as being allowed to park there, and I actually watch you nimbly jaunt from said car like a gazelle in the early spring dew... you should expect a note on your windshield from me. It may be colorful. In fact, it may be written in lip liner on QFC receipt. But I will sooo be that person for you.

2. If I like your shoes, that sweater, those glasses, I try hard to tell you... whether I know you or not, if you're a boy or a girl, if you're 4 or 104. Everybody needs that. If you sneeze, I try to say bless you.

1. I am fortunate enough to have given birth to one of *the* most hilarious children I have ever met. And I'm not just saying that because I did the birthing part, and am naturally biased. Ask around. Her teachers, other kids, other parents, everyone will tell you. One of my goals is to assemble a catalog of Riley-isms. I was reminded of this by my friend Lindsay who recalled the story of a 4 year old Riley on a chilly neighborhood walk with me and the pea-sized bladder of our giant geriatric greyhound Cisco (whom Riley had long since re-named Sicko, since she couldn't quite pronounce his name yet). He'd hiked a leg on everything vertical at the sidewalk's edge for the previous block and a half or so, and Riley was clearly growing tired of the routine. So was I. We finally turned for home. Cisco stopped dead in his tracks for yet another pit stop. There, standing squarely nose to nose with him, ever so sweetly and with genuine love and affection, wee Riley spoke softly exactly these words:

"Sickooo? You're standing in your own pee... [pause]... Is that appropriate?"

I rest my case.

Carrie