Hotel Happiness

Sky and I set out Wednesday to celebrate our 15 year Anniversary. We decided on a 2 night stay in near-by San Diego. Sky got a deal on the internet at a hotel. I had some serious misgivings because it was less than $99 a night...but he was so sweet to take charge and reserve something..

We ended up here:

We fled, and Sky's feelings of remorse bought me a stay at the Marriott instead, with a pool that looked like this;
We were right at the water, near the down-town gas-light district. We had a wonderful time, were able to walk from the hotel to shopping and dining. We had dinner at Morten's steakhouse- which was just awesome, visited the Ghirardelli chocolate store for chocolate of course, and a to-die-for shake. We had dinner one night at a place that made wood-fire pizza's- with 5 kinds of cheese, including goat cheese and artichokes and garlic chicken...very good.
We visited the San Diego Museum of art at Balboa park (I forgot my camera..) and the last day we visited Coronado Island. I love the Del, and every trip we make to San Diego, we have to visit it and walk around a bit. Friday (today) was our last day, but we were really missing our kids, so instead of staying the whole day on Coronado Island, having dinner and then coming home...we had lunch and then went and picked up our kids. We really are homebodies.

We are never weaned, really

Meg is having a busy summer. We put her on a plane a week or so ago ALONE to Seattle, and from there she traveled with a best friend to a Bible Camp of sorts in CANADA. She had a wonderful, mountain-top-experience kind of a time and made some great friends.

It was a great experience for her, but an experience of another sort for us to get her back home. The night before her flight back, we were notified by the airline that it had been canceled. She was re-scheduled for a flight the next day. The day before she was supposed to be home, we were already feeling a longing to see her. The day after she was supposed to be here...the day of the re-scheduled flight, our friends called to tell us her flight had been delayed an hour. We received yet another call to say it was delayed another 2 hours.

I think it was at this point that I had a maternal flashback of that very intense urge to be with your offspring. The overwhelming urge/need to nurse your baby is the closest thing I know, and what I thought of...minus the rushing-filling up with milk sensation (sorry guys...to much information, maybe??) It's the mother-bear in all of us, and heaven protect anyone standing between mom and cub.

Sky told our friend to put Meg on the next flight with another airline if her flight was canceled, and that we would reimburse him. Our very good natured/easy-going friend said, "oh, it's no problem, I'll just bring her back to the airport tomorrow.."

The point for us now, was to just get her as close to home as we could. I think the papa bear in Sky was rising up too... we just achingly wanted her home again.

She was homesick too.

She's back, safe and sound.

But I think college is going to be painful.

day out with Josie

We spent the week Meg was at camp, doing some special things with Josie- such as going to a movie, out to dinner and lunch, Borders bookstore- stuff she likes to do.

One special thing Josie likes to do, is go to
Color Me Mine...it's a 'paint your own ceramics' type of store. At the store, you pick out an unfinished ceramic piece, paint it and leave it there to be fired. It's a fun, different kind of thing to do.

The last 3 years that Meg has gone to horse camp, Josie has chosen to go to Color me Mine with me.

She's pretty creative.
She drew this bird herself.


Here is the plate, ready to be fired.


Here is the mug I worked on...it's for my friend, Starlene- you know, the one who just moved to Singapore. (Chronicled here*)

The back side says "Bagel Wednesday".

That is me on the left... I drew my good side, and I took 10 lbs off too....

Artistic license, it's a good thing.

twinkle toes


Meg competed in her very first Irish feis this weekend.
(it's pronounced "fesh").

We entered the Irish dancing world this year, because of Amie (age 6) who loves to dance. Surprisingly, Meg took a fancy to it and began attending a class.

Amie dropped out. (ahem)

So, this was her first competition/event.

Meg was very nervous. I don't think I've ever seen her nervous before. She loves to do things, and is interested in participating in all sorts of things, and she generally does well with whatever she attempts.

Seeing her with the jitters was a new thing.
Seeing her with the jitters gave me the jitters...


We survived.

She placed 1st in the "beginners first feis reel"

the title was a fancy way of saying this was her first dance.

I just love the Irish soft shoes...

It's all about the food


We took the kids to the Orange County fair last week.

Pity us if you can, because for us- it's all about the food...

This is the first thing we make a bee-line for. It's hot, roasted and slathered in butter and salt.
What's not to love about that?

While the kids feast on corn-dogs and hot-dogs
for dinner, Sky and I opt for a gryo. Yum. The only thing missing here is avocado...every year we say we are going to bring our own to add to the gyro, but we always forget. It's still good though. It's slathered in cucumber dressing.
Yum.

Missing from my photo-journal are the slurpies Demi and Amie had, the chocolate dipped ice-cream cones, the waffle fries Sky and I had with our gyros and the countless diet cokes Sky and I consumed. We forgot to get the kids cotton candy, dang! (They actually forgot to ask, I think the slurpies threw them off their game...).

I suffered a big set-back by the absence of the gingerbread shack this year...I look forward to a slice of gingerbread cake with real whip cream on it.
I opted for chocolate popcorn as a substitute. Good call.

I don't know how much we spent, and I'm not going to think too hard about it.....I do really miss the good ole' days when Meg and Josie were little, the others just babes- and they were content with us packing them some pb&j, a juice box and maybe a little cotton-candy...Yes, those were the days...

Here's Sky enjoying an ice-cream cone. He got a new hair cut, it was stuck up on top...I thought since he has a full head of hair, he should flaunt it alittle...He's had a 'good-guy, Mr. Police-man' hair cut ever since I've known him, this was a big change for him. I'm hoping he will keep it, he looks very cute. I think he's having a hard time with it, he smoothed it down today for the meeting. His dad, who had the same 'good-guy' haircut, would have laughed at him. We laughed together, thinking about how much it would have amused him.

p.s. I did share my popcorn.

Smells like horse camp

Meg went to a Christian girl's horse camp for a week, something she looks forward to every summer.

Here's a peek at her last day, the camp's "show-deo" day, when family arrives to take the campers home.

It's a long drive...

I think this is called 'vaulting'.

Impressive. But is is worth motherly heart palpitations?

And I ask you, where is her helmet?


I'm not sure what this was on it's way to being..
but I ask again,

"where is her helmet? Safety first, anyone?"

I only gave birth to her...after 10 hours or so, emergency c-section...but hey, don't ask me my opinion, I'm only her mother....

There was a family camp going on at the same place, I spied a 10 year old lugging this-

I think it's an air purifier...

because that's the important thing to pack- what could be more important than pure air, way up in the crisp, clean mountains?....

Then again, it could be a heater...then I would be all thumbs up...
Still, it diverted us, highly.

I always have an adventure driving up to horse camp, like for instance last year's epic
(disaster 1) (disaster 2)...go ahead, I'll wait if you want to laugh at me...or feel sorry for my husband...

This year went much better.

Except when I realized I was about to be passed, on the way down the mountain...by a bicyclist.

Here he is....

Sky thought he was merely drafting our van. But no, he passed my open window on the left- and kept hauling down that mountain. It would have been a great photo. But I couldn't, you know, drive and dig out my camera. Sky took this photo, since I was busy trying to navigate the turns and not get sick, and look out for more speed demon bicycles looking to pass me...

We caught up to him in the flatlands.

And told him to eat our dust.

Much fist pumping in the air happening in our van as we passed by.

We're kind of nerdy that way.

Hello mudder, hello fadduh,

Hello mudder, hello fadduh,

here I am at camp Granada. Camp is very entertaining. and they say we'll have some fun if it stops raining....

Meg sent us a "Camp Granada" letter of sorts, here it is:

Hello everyone,

I’m having a blast here! There are some really fun girls here. Most of them are thirteen and are really nice. There aren’t many girls here, so I don’t have to share a horse. I didn’t pass the test to go to the third level, so I was put into the “learning to trot” group
☹ anyway, the horse I get to take care of is Hank- (he doesn’t act like Hank the cowdog). He is a red chestnut and he is very easy to control. We did archery, I wasn’t really good, but I wasn’t awful either. It was fun. We did a three-legged race, we got in 3rd. We did drilling practice on foot (drilling is like dancing in formation with your horse). It was hot and there was no shade and the dirt is really dusty and dry, so that didn’t help. I died several times. The counselors say that most girls “die” on Monday.

The hills will be the death of me.

See you later (If I’m not dead)

Lots of love,

Meg

The whine, it ages me...

Sunday, I told my 8 year- old- son to "stop whining and act like a man". Perhaps not my finest mom moment, and yet, the world kept spinning.

These pearls of wisdom dropped from my thinly-pressed lips after a long morning periodically dealing with/and or soothing the son of my heart who- we are not sure why, but we suspect large doses of multi-media the night before might have something to do with it- turned into a complaining/weepy/clingy/pouty/affection-demanding/flesh-wound-proclaiming, baby.

It was actually, a hard thing for me to say- so very opposite of this deep-seated need in me to comfort and soothe...and yet, in the middle of our 2 hour Sunday School class that Sky and I were supposed to be teaching- I laid down the law, because I did not know what else to do with him.
Sorry,
I can't report a miraculous happy ending in a parenting-zen sort of way. He actually sat; teary-eyed in self pity, and then, upon being mercilessly teased by an older boy, oozed into a big, crying heap. Sky took him somewhere and did some sort of magic to end it all. I asked him what he did.
Sky: "I told him to take it like a man..." Sounded familiar, but it worked better somehow for him.

Later that night, Sky and I talked over the events of the morning and tried to work out a plan on how to point our son towards manhood. It basically involved lots of manual labor. One of the complaints Demi was moaning about was a vague hurt in his hand, then his head, then his leg...Sky decided he would introduce him to the concept of callouses on the hands due to hard work as a real-life contrast.

I stumbled upon this post, Love hurts. Are we raising generation why-me? Sort of timely in light of Sunday... So, how do we raise a boy to be manly, dependable, a hard worker, kind, responsible? This is our first attempt at man- making...how do we go about it?

"He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what the Lord requires of you. But to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?" -Micah 6:8

I think what we need, really- is a farm. But, we don't have one. We are thinking out right now, how to add more chores and responsibilities to our boy's life- not just busy work, but work that contributes to the smooth running of the family. Work that makes a boy feel needed and important to the family, work that he can take honest pride in completing.

I'll let you know what we come up with.

The thought that has held me back in the past, -from posting on the fridge a heaping list of chores for all my kids- is the fear that someone, even one of my children, will accuse me of having many kids for the cheap labor. Laughable, really, when you think it out- I could have had no kids, or stopped at one kid and simply hired a housecleaner with the extra money I wouldn't be spending on my four kids... I hate to be judged quickly and unfairly, though.

It's not the end product of a clean house; it's the end product of God-loving,responsible, hard-working, cheerful, happy children that I am looking for.

What are your thoughts on raising responsible kids, hard work, chores, having everything given to you, the school of hard knocks vs. gifts of love?

More thoughts coming, but this post is already too long...