Saturday, July 30, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
THEN, on the adjacent field, we have the Birdie. Not an athletic bone in her little 29 pound body. Not that we've done much to cultivate it. We don't even have any sporty clothes for her, so she is usually decked out in colorful stretchy clothes of some manner. She makes no notice of the other kids around her, what the purpose of the exercise is, when it is her turn or where the soccer ball is at any given moment. She's just a giggling, clueless little orange fuzz skipping around.
Now, granted, most of this is due to her age--I mean, she's probably one of the youngest kids out there. But honestly, she'd be the stereotypical girl out on the field picking dandelions if this weren't parent/tot class, and her soccer-loving dad were not by her side throughout the entire hour. Daddy says she has one speed, which is "casual." She frequently la-dee-dahs away from the drill to wave, grin and give me thumbs-up. After soccer, she has way more to say about her ponytail (it looks like the babysitter's!) than anything that actually took place during camp.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
"The craft store?" he said with a smile, but also a semi-confused look on his face.
"Yes! The craft store!" I said.
"Huh," he replied, with a very matter-of-fact tone. "That's random."
Saturday, July 09, 2011
If you'll remember, the second week of June we had a HUGE SALE fundraiser in our yard/garage. Doing a garage sale of any kind is exhausting, but the martyr in me likes to think that when over a dozen different families bring you all their treasures, the sheer volume of merchandise to be stored, moved, organized, priced and sold entitles me to a little more exhaustion. (Not that I didn't have help, because I had great help!) Also you need to know that Trent and I kind of have a deal about these kinds of things: I do it and he stays out of my way. Or helps in specific ways that I request. Like staying out of my way. And keeping the kids out of my way. Wow, I'm really starting to sound like a crazy mean lady, but it's all for the BABY, people!
So, let's just say that after weeks of prep, two LONG days of dealing with weird garage sale people and constantly adjusting the position of the sale items for optimum presentation, by Saturday evening? I was DONE. Dead woman walking on shakey legs and even more shakey temperament. Trent, the T family and my in-laws had done a wonderful job of caring for my children during the sale, but they were home when we were cleaning up. My parents were also there helping, which was wonderful. There were a few straggling shoppers that wanted to haggle/scavenge, and I wasn't having it. I told them to remove the items from my sight pretty please, hoping they would be scared off by my rudeness.
As we were tearing down, moving heavy items, boxing up the many things that didn't sell, trying to find a way to get stuff back into our garage, etc. THE ICE CREAM TRUCK comes down our cul-de-sac. Now, i don't have a lot of enemies, but in my mind? The Ice Cream Truck is my enemy. I never make eye-contact with the driver, but imagine him as a childless jerk who has years of manipulation perfected in the art of seducing little ones with sugar and fracturing parent/child relationships. My kids and I can be having a lovely, whine-free afternoon full of free back-yard sprinkler fun, and as soon as they catch a note of that tinny, jack-in-the-box music, and all hell breaks loose. They burst into begging and pleading with such passion that you would think someone was offering them a new car, not a $5 treat that is really worht 75 cents. Sometimes they evade my capture and run out to the front to "just look" at the truck, which totally eggs-on the Ice Cream Truck, who slows to a crawl and (I imagine) a smug, knowing smile. He may not get my $10, but he's wreaked havoc, which is worth almost as much. So it goes in my mind.
But back to the garage sale. The kids were out front with us, and they, of course, were jumping up and down with excitement, begging and pointing. All four adults took the classic stance of ignoring the entire existence of the Ice Cream Truck. This is my go-to move for such situations. Pretend it doesn't exist and soon it will go away. BUT IT DIDN'T GO AWAY. The truck not only slowed to .5 mph, it made LOOP around the cul-de-sac and came BACK around to our house where the children were on the verge of hysterical tears at the injustice of their parents. I walked inside for a moment, and my anger (surely compounded by my exhaustion) started to bubble up as I walked back outside and saw the Ice Cream Truck has STOPPED right in front of my children. Oh no he di'int. I put on my best confrontational face (which actually not that great) and started my Stomp of Justice out to that driver to give him a piece of my mind. Oh. I tell you. I was on FIRE with all the zingers I had planned for this stranger (so much easier to tell off a stranger!).
But when I approached the truck, this little post-middle-aged lady came out to meet me. Hmpph. OK, first surprise. It was a "she." Then she asked where we were adopting from. She had seen the signs. So I told her. But I still was mad at her! I was! Then she asked if she could buy this total gym thing that hadn't sold, but that we'd been lugging around for weeks and were wondering how we were going to get rid of. And I told her that everything was free at that point. She was overjoyed and almost hugged me. She asked if she could come back in an hour and pick it up, and I said yes. Then she asked if my kids could have a popsicle. And I said yes. I almost bartered for Klondikes instead, but I decided to let it go.
But she totally ruined my angry mojo. Now instead of picturing an evil, faceless, family-wrecking man behind the wheel of that pink truck, I'm picturing Sandra, the 55 year old grandma whose niece is adopting domestically and who is trying to earn a living and maybe do a little exercise on the side. Well. Pff.
So maybe the ICT is no longer my enemy. But that doesn't mean I'm going to drop $10 everytime Sandra drives by. But I MIGHT crack a smile. Or possibly wave.
"A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." Proverbs 15:1
Friday, July 08, 2011
This is the first weekend in 7 that we will not be out of town, having a birthday party/Father's Day/Referral, doing a garage or consignment sale. I'm quite happy to be past the craziest part of our summer! The last 2 weekend we were at the coast and the mountain, respectively, first with Trent's extended family and then with my family. I had my camera on me a lot more on the mountain, but got a few pics of the beach weekend too!
The highlight of beach weekend for Sydney was having Baby McKenna there! They are...second cousins? Their dads are cousins. It was a mutual entertainment for the most part.
G.G. with her 2 great-granddaughters. And a doll.
Gorgeous, gorgeous day at the coast!Auntie Tata and Riley--whom the kids think is their other cousin.
Cousin Kevin entertained Carson endlessly by building little villages and then inventing nature weapons to destroy said villages.
Denae has the patience to wait for Sydney's extended shyness to end...then they were best buds!
Chasing Auntie Shell in a pick-up game of beach baseball. 4 generations!
Now to Mt. Hood!
These boys have been coming on this trip since they were in utero.
This picture feels very Mark Twain-esque to me.
All 8 kids loved playing in this lovely, shallow creek!
These are the kids as they were almost done with their traditional treasure hunt. Henry is especially loving it.
Dirt, water, rocks, sticks? 2 year old boy is in heaven!
As Aunt Steph said, this picture really captures JACK!
The lake was so shallow, the daddies waded out and pulled the kids in the rafts. They loved it!
This girl takes her relaxing very seriously. Look at those divas! Ethan is giving Trent a good splash.
Beautiful Pacific Northwest!
My stubborn girl didn't want to walk back to the campsite, but since I was already carrying the tricycle she abandoned, I couldn't carry her as well. This was our stand-off.
Nina is the queen of fancy S'mores! I wish I had a picture of her fixing them up. We all loved them! Jojo was showing Sydney the finer art of tasting sticky marshmallows.
You don't have to ask her twice.
Friday, July 01, 2011