To the Beach! part III

I could do this every day for the rest of my life.

We completely needed a vacation (and by we I mean me).  By day three we were in full vacation mode.  The girls woke up early, attacked the day and by noon they were out cold. Matt and I took advantage of their long nap.  We sat on the porch listening to nothing, reading good books and drinking great wine.  It was fantastic.

Poor Seagulls didn't even see her coming...

And the sprint...

Success...

Ready for more.

To The Beach! part II

While our day of arrival at the beach was full of excitement, our second day was full of relaxation.  Day one was bright and sunny and we wanted to see and do everything, just in case the weather turned sour and we became stuck inside.  Day two was overcast with a threatening sky.  The girls opted to leave the suits at the house and use their raincoats to ward off raindrops.  It worked, and I think we only felt a couple drops the whole day.  We were able to get in a little bike ride and two trips down to the beach.  We had a dip in the hot tub and were down for the count.  I think I was asleep on the couch by 8.  Lovely. 

A big wave to Granny in Misawa... I think she saw us.

To The Beach! part I

Bags were packed.  Van was loaded.  Reservations were made.  We were off!  To the Beach!!  

I love the beach.  More than a good hike, more than a crisp snowy adventure; I love the beach.  It makes me feel connected.  That big ocean connects us all.  The far off places don't seem that far away when I look at the constant flow of the water, touching everything all at once.  It's the same ocean that floated my ancestors here from Ireland 200 years ago.  It's the same water that my grandma watched with my grandfather in the last years of his life.  It's constant.  It's powerful.  It shows no mercy, but it's beauty knows no bounds.  What's more is that it makes me feel small, insignificant, a mere mammal in the blink of the eye of the sea.  To some, feeling insignificant might seem depressing.  To me however, the feeling is refreshing.  The tide keeps on, with or without me, reshaping the earth, changing life as we know it... despite the hustle and bustle of the city... despite all of the admits at the hospital... the tide keeps on... 

The ocean is my happy place.  I can feel it filling me up until I overflow.  

 And yes, I'm totally fine with my scrawny Washington girls suiting up for 60 and sunny.  

This is how we roll.

My girl

I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities.
Dr. Seuss

My daughter's raw instinct for comedic timing is amazing.  Sometimes she knows she's funny but most of the time it's just subtle and perfect.  I am constantly inspired by her ability to find joy and humor in the most mundane of things.  Children are amazing little balls of raw emotion; joy, frustration, pain, humor... a pendulum that is constantly swinging from one emotion to then next.  Exploring life constantly, through action and reaction and feeling...  It's magnificent to watch a person create their personality before your very eyes.

Thursday we were out working on the yard.  Matt and I were weeding and Tula was scouring the weed piles for worms.  She thinks worms are fantastic (this week).  I think she only likes them because she thinks "potty talk" is hilarious and she knows that worms poop dirt.  (We have a worm bin that the kids find disgusting and fascinating.)  Anyways, she was walking around the yard giggling with a worm wriggling in her gloved hand when she shouts to both of us, and really anyone within 50 yards... "AAHHHH!  That worm just pooped in my hand!!  That is so inappropriate! and HILARIOUS!" And she laughed uproariously.  Gross.


She's really into telling long animated stories right now and since she doesn't get out much, most of her stories revolve around families.  Moms and dads, babies, sisters and brothers... but she doesn't completely understand the relationship between the characters.  Because of this, all of her stories end up sounding like really complicated baby daddy kind of scenarios, complete with fantastic anecdotal information.  i.e. "my baby's sister's grandpa likes to ride the xtracycle"  Her stories are really easy to ignore with a "oh really?" or "wow" or "uh huh" but when you actually listen to them they are brilliant.  Almost all of her characters names are based on variations of names of people that she knows.  Most of the females are variations of "Tina" (tina, bina, nina, leena, gina...) and the male names could be anything, but usually not real words.  Today we were walking home from taking Gwen to school and I (a captive audience) was actually listening.

This was the story:  "My baby is really really tiny, she used to live in my belly but now she doesn't but she's still really really tiny, her name is bina and she has a big sister who's tiny too and her name is heena I think, yeah heena and their grandpa is really really funny and his name is heenis, not penis, because that's a potty word,  his name is heenis, and he's really funny...." and on and on and on... with no pauses for a half a mile at a preschoolers walking pace (I wasn't carrying her this time).

I can't wait to see who she becomes.

Grace is not my middle name.

I fell down yesterday.  Like seriously. fell.the frick.down.  I don't remember the last time I just fell down.  I wish I could watch a replay.  Picture me walking down the sidewalk, basking in the glory of a smidgen of sunshine with Tula in the ergo on my back... sunshine and prancing ponies, birds chirping, waving fields of grain... cheesy Canadian Mento's commercial and... Whammo!  I.Am.Ridiculous.  There's no explanation.  Simply walking down the sidewalk!  I'm just that good.  I felt like a little kid.  My hands looked liked I lost a fight with a cheese grater.  My knees bruised.  And (!) ugh, because I fell with a 27lb preschooler on my back, my hands bracing my fall weren't prepared for the extra weight and... I scraped my chin.  Low of the low.  I had to laugh.  What.The.Hell.  My grace is not my strongest gift.  From what I could tell, other than a confused Tula, there were no witnesses to my humiliation.  (Until this confession, that is.)  However, I was on my way to school to pick up Gwen... where understandably there would be a mere thousand people offering assistance to my bloodied self... I was not about to have that.  I called Matt.  He picked up the kid.  He knows I'm graceful.  I hope my hands are repaired before Friday when 36 hours of hand gel await me at the hospital.  Ugh.  Ridiculous.  I think I'm going to go buy a lottery ticket.

A child of five would understand this.  Send someone to fetch a child of five.   -Groucho Marx

Only one Mother the whole world over...

I love my mother as the trees love water and sunshine - she helps me grow, prosper, and reach great heights.  ~Terri Guillemets

My wonderful Mother and I

Today is Mother's day, and I am feeling very very lucky.  Heart swelling kind of lucky.  Today we had our annual Mother's day brunch where the man-folk cook for the ladies... which is always more work than just having the ladies cook... but it's fun to watch and we ladies all get mimosas and talk a bit of smack as the gents fumble around the kitchen.  Perhaps it's my age, or that my children are growing by leaps and bounds, or that I was really missing my sister... but today I was really struck by the fact that families evolve.  Things change. People change.  But I always come back to my people.  They are my roots.  They are mine.

I had a discussion with my Grandmother about feet.  Tula has her feet.  I pointed it out to both of them.  Grandma gave Tula her condolences.  Tula just seemed confused as to how anyone could have her feet.  I hope that Tula remembers the conversation.  I'll make her remember it, I'm a mother, it's my job.

The foot conversation spiraled into a conversation about hands.  I have my father's hands.  I learned today that we all have those hands.  My Grandmother lamented that none of her children got her hands and none of the grandchildren did either.  We have my Grandfather's hands.  He proudly held his hand out for me to inspect and agree.  He already knew we had his hands.

I love how contented all the men look in this picture.
And I love that Uncle Dave looks like he's in some sort of trouble.  

The gift of motherhood, the gift of seeing the world become a better place because of the people you created, because of the love you give out freely.  I saw that pride again in my Grandmother today.  I've seen it in my Mom all my life.  I feel it when I kiss my babies goodnight.  I'm lucky to have been given this gift.  I'm lucky to have such strong women in my life.  I am lucky to still have them.  My cup runneth over.

Easter

Children with candy, dogs begging for candy... the usual.

I'm a big slacker this year and didn't take any good pics of the family festivities at my parent's house for Easter... Alas, I did capture what I do believe to be my absolute favorite(!!) picture of my children, both 2 and 4 legged, all together sitting still! And a couple true to form pics of my lovely girls.  Bad lighting as per usual... I'm still working the bugs out of my lighting settings.  :)