three!

Guess who turned THREE while we were in California?  (A month ago; I'm slow.)  It was this guy!

 first thing on his birthday morning, saying "I'm thlee!"

Owen was so very excited for having his birthday in California.  There was much anticipation leading up to the trip... Owen's mantra was, "When we get to California it's going to be my birthday!"  We kept trying to explain that his birthday would be three days after flying day, but he wasn't having it.  "When we get to California it's going to be my birthday!"  Yes, buddy.  We shall celebrate you all week!

 When asked what he wanted for his birthday, his reply was "oatmeal for supper."  Anything else?  "Cake."  Are there any presents you have in mind?  "Three puzzles -- teenage mutant ninja turtles, star wars, and super mario bros."  So I ordered three puzzles on amazon and had them shipped to California Gram's and on his birthday morning they were in the hotel room waiting to be unwrapped.  He went straight to work.

 We had a nice little hotel breakfast of waffles and fruit.

 Then we went to California Gram's for the day.

Remembering Fruit Loops from a previous hotel stay, Owen couldn't survive his birthday without some.

We went out to the pool for a swim... in January, by the way.  Owen was hesitant at first.  We haven't swum (swam? swimmed?) here in months, so he had to ease his way in.  Maisy went right for it; she was trying to dive her way into the pool from the moment she saw it.

Some people -- the birthday boy in particular -- needed a little rest after the swimming and before the party, so we took the littles for a scenic drive.

And I wanted an iced coffee, so Ben pulled up to a Starbucks.  And I'm not sure I have ever been inside an actual Starbucks.  My first trip to the 'bucks had me laughing to myself like a lunatic because... One, I ran in thinking the five dollar bill in my pocket was going to buy coffee for two, and Two, because even though I was the only customer in sight the two male baristas followed every service protocol including loudly calling out my order when it was ready even though I was standing right there, and I was the only one standing right there.

O stayed asleep while we carried him inside, and truth be told he could have slept for the rest of the night, but we had to wake him for the long awaited birthday party!

He opened cards and presents in a bit of a daze, then slowly woke up and played with everything right away.

A sweet friend of Gram's gave him this Thomas bubble blower which served perfectly as party entertainment.

There's my love, drinking on lifeguard duty, and he deserves a post all his own because last week was actually his birthday!  But let's be honest, he won't get one because I am way behind here.  So, suffice to say: I love this guy and I love doing life with him.  We're not old yet, honey!  Many more birthdays to celebrate.

And I love doing life with this little guy also.  He's such a sweet person, usually just goes with the flow, Bobby's little parrot copying everything he says and does, always good for a hug or kiss fight.  We both cherish our "snuggle party" every night after silly time and book and story.  He lives these days for puzzles and play doh, Star Wars and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  His play lightsaber and ninja weapon fighting is pretty hilarious; he reminds us of the leaked home video of George Michael Bluth (Arrested Development, people... if you don't know what I'm talking about then watch it.)  He loves to eat, especially breakfast, so much that for most of his two-dom he spent most of many mornings at the table asking for more and more food straight through 'til lunch.

And he is very excited to be three.  This might be one of the best birthday ages -- able to anticipate the joy of cake and presents, but not yet sucked in by greed; still thrilled by the simplest of things -- a floating balloon, candles lit, clouds of bubbles for popping, birthday cards with five dollar bills inside, construction paper signs taped to doors, and the question, "Wait, HOW old are you!?"

He's got a great sense of humor, this guy.  Every day he makes us laugh out loud and Ben and Bob and I will look at each other with knowing smiles -- Aren't we lucky to have such a funny boy in our family?

On the same day Owen turned three, Gram's friend Al turned ninety three.  Crazy to think what's in store for O's 93rd birthday... I like to think I'll be there with my head attached to a robot body.  Just kidding-- I stole that from Donna.  (Parks and Rec.  Come on, get with my tv references, people.)

We lit the cake up twice, because three year olds really like to blow out their candles, and because Bob wanted to capture the moment on his cell phone camera (he has inherited an old phone of Ben's and is stocking it up with photos and videos and although it bugs me to see him using a device it's pretty darn sweet how much he cherishes his memories).  And I said, "That's right Bob, in our family we're always up for a photo re-do!"

This serious furrowed brow expression, it's one of Owen's classics.  He can be so silly, he can be so serious, he can be so laid back.  He fits in perfectly, and we love him so much.

Happy third birthday, Oboe!

traveling outnumbered

I saw a little something on the internet a while ago like, "Check out these awesome parents who flew with their baby and gave everyone on the plane goodie bags as a pre-apology for any inconvenience!"  Well, after flying with our three young children recently I declare: that is absolutely ridiculous and please don't ever do it.  People with babies are people too and we've got just as much right to fly as anyone else.  Babies cry when they are uncomfortable and after hours trapped in a plane, we're all uncomfortable.  The babies just say what the rest of us are too mature to.  And if anyone should be getting a goodie bag, it should be the person(s) calming the precious little ones, not the person(s) hearing a little crying breaking through the roar of the plane or feeling a little kicking on their seat.  Besides, everyone has headphones these days and the flight attendants even pass them around for free so really there is nothing to complain about.  Forget the goodie bags; the surrounding passengers should be buying you drinks.

I'm speaking all hypothetically here because obviously our kids are angels and we were constantly flooded with compliments on how cute and well behaved they were.  That sounds like sarcasm but honestly, they couldn't have been better troopers.  Our cross-country flight had a little tv with shows and video games in the back of every head rest which meant that our device deprived boys were all set for the duration, despite some six hours or so of extra waiting on the tarmac for wing de-icing and valve unsticking and luggage moving and passenger deplaning and re-planing and whatnot.  Maisy was a little more perturbed, but not too badly and nothing a few strolls down the aisle couldn't fix, and like I said, she was just vocalizing what the rest of us were thinking.  And since we didn't take off from Newark until after bedtime, all the kids slept through the majority of the six hour flight, and I even got to watch two movies in their entirety -- Alexander and the Terrible Something Day with Steve Carell and Blended with Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore -- and I loved them both.

 a quick self-timer family photo at Albany International

 ah, pay phones!

 this moment reminded me of taking baby bob to jamaica

 settling into plane #1

 i'm pretty sure this whole touch screen on the back of everyone's head thing has already been discontinued

 sleeping from newark to la

for the last hour of the trip I had to hold owen's body up with my leg; my bum was more than a little sore after this flight

The way home, though lacking in personal screens, was much quicker and easier.  Owen and Maisy require some entertaining but Bob could sit in one place for an entire day with his blankie and a pile of books so for him it was nothing out of the norm.  Probably the most ridiculous moment of flying for me was changing Owen's diaper in the airplane bathroom... he barely fit on that tiny table and had to lay with his legs sticking straight up the entire time, his giant three year old poop smelled like something had died in his diaper, and frankly I'm surprised we didn't get ejected from the plane.  But we survived!  And on each leg of the journey we met awesome people who went out of their way to tell us how marvelous our kids were and what a great job we were doing with them.  And even one lady who offered to hold the baby while we gathered up our things.

 they didn't have enough energy to walk through the airport on the last day; they could only move if we told them to RUN!

 waiting for takeoff

 cutest traveling companions ever

checking out the scenery

 flying is just plain crazy amazing.

 big bro buckling up little bro while my arms were occupied...

 making sure this little one kept snoozing.

 back in Albany...

 waiting for dad to dig the car out of the snow and come pick us up

(one still moment... mostly they were running and leaping off this bench)

That middle bit in between the flying days -- the part where we got to spend ten days visiting Ben's family in California where it's warm and sunny and beach weather and I didn't have to cook every dinner or wash any dishes -- was amazing.  It warms the heart to see extended family loving on your kiddos.  And have I mentioned that it wasn't snowing?  I asked everyone what was their favorite part of the trip... Owen said having cake at his birthday party; Bob said riding bikes to the beach; Ben said seeing his Gram and the rest of his family and watching the boys playing just like he did there when he was little.  My highlight?  I think... walking down the steps to the beach and wading in the waves and watching the boys run and Maisy shovel sand with her starfish hand and just soaking up every last drop of the sunset before climbing back up the cliff.

Just a few (well, my definition of a few) favorite photos... (I shall return with more!)

 um, yeah-- this was one of the cutest moments ever

 checking out the pier

my most cherished photo from the trip

 a fun birthday gift

 chocolate cupcake cake!

 two teeth!

 hashtag no filter!

 bubble party!

 these two and their deep deep love.

best buds.

Ben told me to put his initials after every photo that he took, which I didn't.  But I will give him credit for this last one, which I love.  I loved this moment, this moment shared with my daughter-- surveying this earth, feeling the sand on our feet and the sun on our faces, just breathing in this beautiful life.  I want so badly to get this right -- why does raising a daughter feel even more significant than raising a son? -- even if none of us really gets it all right.  It's a long road, this mother-daughter relationship deal, and surely I'll take some wrong turns, but planting our feet in the sand, sifting the surf with our toes, watching the waves in all their golden glory-- this feels like a good place to start.

last day of the year

I've just not been in the mood this year, folks.  But I love this little bliggity blog and all that it is for me -- a journal of the little details of life that are sure to be forgotten and lost if I don't record them somewhere, a way to share the cuteness with family far away, a little bit of release and self-therapy, something to do with the photos I take every day or a reason to keep taking them -- so... here goes.

It was a big New Year's Eve around here!  Owen did his second consecutive poop on the potty (getting number two to splash down has been an ongoing challenge), and Bob lost his first tooth!  I had been naming all the ways that the tooth could fall out before midnight, and then what do you know, it happened.  Bob was messing with the tooth while snuggling his blankie and playing duplos with Owen and Maisy and suddenly, "Um, I'm sorry to tell you, but--" and I turned around and there he was holding it out in his hand, licking a little drop of blood off his lip.  He put that first fallen piece of his mouth's babydom into an envelope which he lettered "TOOTH" and at bedtime he snuck it under his pillow.  Bob had high hopes of staying up until midnight this year but instead we had an extra silly silly time and cheered Happy new year! at 8:00 before settling into bed.  I promptly forgot about the tooth until after Bob had woken me up in the morning, but I was able to save the magic by suggesting that he had checked under his pillow when it was actually still night and asking him to put something away while I ran upstairs and made the switch.  A note and 50 cent coin were then discovered with much excitement.  And so we entered the new year.

I technically stayed awake into 2015, but I was upstairs getting Maisy back to sleep and then I fell asleep too and didn't make it back down until Ben and our one guest had retired as well.  No exciting party tales.

The "New Year" doesn't really stir all that much emotion in me.  Because if you want to change something about your life, there is absolutely no reason to wait until January to do so.  January isn't exactly the most inspiring time of the year for me; it is cold and dark and there is still a whole lot of winter ahead.  But that's not to say that I'm immune to reflection, and 2014 was a bit of a difficult one I guess.

Is it possible for one year to simultaneously be the best and worst of your life thus far?  I think: yes?  I can see so much blessing this past year: a cozy home in a beautiful place, a loving hard working husband, two sweet sons, the welcoming of our precious daughter, health, a productive garden and always enough food.  Really, life is good.  I'm really lucky and not complaining.  And yet, my heart has been heavy.  Heavy, heavy.  There have been some heavy, heavy thoughts weighing on my heart and mind ALL THE TIME.  Heavy.  That's the only word.

In the true fashion of a long line of feeling-suppressors, I've been mastering a combination of numbing and bottling up my dark thoughts, to the point where the resulting mass inside me may have been crushing my heart a little bit.  Which finally led to a recent spewing of truths to a couple of trusted individuals, which was not easy for me, but which I've realized was completely necessary.  (I heard all those whiches but I'm rolling with it.)  We can't battle our demons alone.  We can't.  We need to bring them to light and let someone say, "Wow, that is a lot for you to carry, you need to drop that load right now."  And we need to cry and let it out and just feel up the feelings sometimes.  I need to afford myself the same grace I try to extend to my children -- that feelings are a-okay and we need to let them out, not lock them in.

The art of hiding behind a humor of sarcasm, while perhaps making me amusing to be around at times, hasn't exactly fostered a host of lifelong connections with other vulnerable human beings.  And that right there, that's been another lonely realization to come to terms with.

In the fall of 2013, I lost a friend.  She didn't die, she just stopped calling, but it almost felt like I was grieving a death.  Or a breakup perhaps.  It was like being broken up with, but not even told.  My girlfriend, my one local friend that I actually saw regularly, explained that she was "maxxed out" at the moment and that was that.  And it hurt so much.  And I started to realize -- and all through the next year the realization sunk in deeper -- that somehow, 30 years in, I had no friends.  (Not true; I have two or three, or four if you include my husband!)  I've always felt like I had friends, never felt hated, everyone has always been friendly to me, and yet it's clear now that my high school Spanish teacher was right -- these people that you think are your friends are not really your friends, and you will have only two or three real friends that last in your life.  We laughed at her, my "friends" and I -- ha ha! we have dozens of best friends and always will!  Well.  I can't even remember the teacher's name but I remember that one conversation vividly.  And you know, it gives me some consolation knowing that I'm not alone, even if facebook and tweeter and instograham can make it seem like I am.

I know now that real friends are the ones who, when you finally let down your guard and say I need you, they come running.  Like, right then.  That same day.  And I know now that I am very lucky to have even a couple of friends like that.

I think, this new year (see here I am getting on the bandwagon after I already declared that I don't do that sham!) I'd like to let myself be a little more vulnerable.  I'd like to meet a new friend, and actually open myself up to her so that she can do the same, and also I want to really be there for the people I know, and tell them so, so that they can call on me and know I'll come running.

Boom.

And now I can (hopefully) get on with my regular lighthearted record keeping, and do a massive recap catchup, and move on into this new year with self-forgiveness and acceptance and grace and trust in God that all will work for good if I seek Him.