Scrambled Thoughts IX

*Sometimes when I ask people to clean the playroom, they hide in giant beanbag covers and play the piano instead.

*Sometimes Carson can't tell the difference between his body and his shadow.

That boy is so connected to his shadow I feel like I need to make an extra plate of food for it.  I think it has something to do with the dream he has of being a robot dancer.  Really.  That's a real dream.  He watches his shadow as he jerks his limbs around in robot-fashion.  He's getting pretty good...

*Sometimes I wish I were a baby again and could get thrown up in the air and kissed and cuddled.

The laughs from TK prove how fun it is.  But then I get my face spit-up on and decide that being a baby wouldn't actually be that fun after all.

Oh, wait.  Does that actually mean that being the mom wouldn't actually be that fun?  Either way.  Spit-up is gross.

*Sometimes I give my kids heavy weights and throw them in the pool.

Now they think that the heavy weights are actual pool toys and are confused when I don't always let them tie the weights around their waists to help them walk along the bottom of the pool.  Also, I guess I'm not quite patient enough to stick with it to get a good picture.  Carson kept dropping his weight, and the other two kept needing to come up for breath.  I told them they didn't really need to breathe, but they didn't listen.  We'll try again another day.

*Sometimes I wonder why I have seven boxes of band-aids in my drawers. 

Then I remember about the magical properties of band-aids and how they can solve almost all of the world's problems.

*Sometimes Timothy fits in a little too well with the other kids.

And Mario doesn't seem to be the best option for the baby... believe me, I've tried.  He just eats the Wii remotes.

*McKenzie makes a creepy ghost.  

Creepy, huh?

*Sometimes when you make a rental car reservation, they forget to make sure a car is there for you when you need it. 

When Brian, TK and I landed in Vegas at 10:45pm (1:45am our time), we shuffled our tired bodies to the car rental place where we soon learned that there was a long line of people who had reserved cars... but there were no actual cars.  After standing in the line waiting for them to 'find' some for over an hour, we decided to cancel that reservation and pay a bit more to get a car from another company. 
"It's like that Seinfield episode where Jerry is in this same situation," Brian joked to the young man behind the counter of the alternate rental company.  "You know the one where Jerry is talking to the reservation desk and says, 'I know you know how to make a reservation.  I just don't think that you know how to keep a reservation.'"  The young man behind the counter smiled a little with confused eyebrows, glanced at Brian's face from the corner of his eye and said,
"How old are you?"
Turns out Seinfield is an older generation thing these days.

*Speaking of Brian.

This photo makes my heart feel warm every time I look at it.  Somehow the camera lens is more than invisible in this photo, it disappears for me, and I just see those tender eyes and that gentle smile looking right into my soul.  I know this look so. so. well.  It's this look I see when I'm feeling insecure or unloved by the world and the people in it.  How I ever got so lucky to have a man look at me like this is beyond me... but he loves me down to the deepest parts of my insecurities.

It's this reassuring look and the meaning behind it that give me wings to fly, "Silly Linds... you don't need to feel insecure.  I love you!  Oh.  So much."

And doesn't every girl need to hear that sometimes?!

While Daddy's Away

"We only have 7 months left here," he said.  His tone was the same as if he'd been saying he only had 7 more hip surgeries before he could walk again.  Overwhelmed, but ever looking forward to that end goal with a We Can Do This attitude.   "We only have 7 months left here," I repeated.  Though I said it as one might say she only has 7 more days left to live.

And, that about sums up our experiences in living in Miami so far.  Brian is enclosed in crowds of entitled people, and narrow traffic lanes clogged with battered cars and hot-headed drivers, in long work hours and work-a-holic peers, in searching for parking around our building every. single. night (and sometimes in walking the blocks home after finding one), in deciphering accents and dealing with people who can say little more in his native tongue than 'no English'.  The heat of the days seep under his white coat and make him sticky with sweat as he treats numerous fungal eye infections that fester in the humidity of this environment.

And me?  I'm enclosed in sand and sun, in ocean waves and pool days, in soothing breezes and cool showers... it makes sense why we feel differently about this halfway mark approaching.

The golden lining in all of this is that Brian is learning so much more about how to treat gross-looking eyeballs.  And the kids and I are working hard to have fun even while he's away.  It's hard sometimes because he really brings an infectious energy into the home that always makes things a lot more fun.  But once in a while I can get the kids enjoying a slide as much as they enjoy their dad.

Timbo watching the older kids, wishing he could play...

You're getting close, buddy... keep working on crawling, first.

And once the fun of the playground wears off...

We can fill the daddy-void with some cold sugar cereal for dinner. 

See?  I know how to keep it fun. 
After dinner we sometimes head back out to the beach to play away the sun.  (Well, we used to be able to do that before the combination of winter and daylight savings created a 5:30 sunset... so sad to lose those after dinner sunlight hours.)

This guy is starting to love the sand.

See how much?

He also loves eating things.  All things.  Blankets included.

And then when daddy finally makes it home, we celebrate by staring at each other for the rest of the night.

Vampires, Doctors and Regulars

#1 - City Halloween Party

Good eeeeeevening to you.
Lets pretend you were on your way to a city Halloween party, and on your walk you passed by a gate that looked very vampire-ish.  You happened to have two small vampires with you and one said, "Hey! Take a picture of us in front of this gate! It will look like we are guarding a castle!"  You said no initially because the people who live (for real) in the shack castle were sitting just inside their open door, speaking rather loudly to one another in Spanish, so you didn't know what they're saying, but it didn't sound... friendly. 
"No - let's just keep going."
"Then, can we take a picture on the way home?"
"Well, probably not - there won't be any more light."  The sad puppy dog eyes that followed, and the fact that the gate really would make a cool background finally convinced you to do it.  Quickly.  And after you snapped the picture you realized you gave no thought to much of anything (even the background) except for the possibility of offending the angry people behind the gate.
So you hoped the picture turned out well as you scuttled your children away.
Nice eye, Carson.  I like the look.

The kids and I made it to the Halloween party and partied the night away with loud music, free cotton candy, random carnival rides and a haunted house that scared Carson to the bone.  Turns out this city knows how to throw a Halloween party.

Phone Camera Dump (can I tell you how much I love having a camera on me all the time!):

 These guys had a blast.

#2 - Carving Pumpkins

Carving pumpkins is not exactly easy with this little guy around. He wanted in on the fun, but still seems a little small to be handling a knife, so he had to settle for chewing on the pumpkin top.  Vegetable dinner, check.

McKenzie and Carson were quite absorbed in their creations.

And Miles couldn't stop reading through his brand new book: Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.  I've heard good things about this book and you can see that Miles was anxious to get started.  Anxious enough to miss out on the pumpkin carving this year.  I tried to tell him that pumpkin carving is way more important than reading, but he just wouldn't listen.

Eventually, the pumpkins were done and... only one survived to the picture taking portion of the evening.

Miles wanted me to 'take a picture of him in the dark' too, so, here you go.  Dollar Tree lanterns = super fun for a day.  Then they break and tears are shed and we're forced to consider the old adage 'better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.'

#3 - Halloween Food

What do you do when you haven't thought about food?  Cut up tortillas and fry cheese and slather things in nutella.  Works every time.

#4 - Trunk or Treat

And, of course, what Halloween season would be complete without the ward Trunk-or-Treat?

These guys hauled home just enough candy for them to be happy and for me to not be overwhelmed. 

Miles walked around the church halls with this face the entire night:

He also struck this pose several times when I said, 'Miles, be a vampire'.  It did not get old.

I went as, in Miles's words, 'just regular' this year.  I certainly enjoy dressing up for Halloween, but something about the warm air and ocean breeze just never got me quite into the mood of it and before I knew it the time for preparation had passed.

Now - how do I start preparing myself for Thanksgiving?  I've gotta somehow feel the magic of this year without the seasons changing!

Happy November!

Baby in a Basket

I'm not really fond of the pictures taken with babies in baskets.  I get that the idea behind those pictures is to show how super small they are in the beginning of life, but I just can't get behind the craze and stick my own child in one to snap a few photos.  Babies do not belong in baskets, I think, and so putting them in one just for a picture seems like a bit of a stretch.  (This idea of differing opinions, though, is one of my favorite things about photography. If you like babies in baskets, then grab your camera and a basket (and your baby) and go for it!)

That said, when I found this scene one morning I just could. not. help myself from grabbing the camera and shooting away because I found it just so darn cute.  Turns out when the baby is put in a basket by my children for the sake of transporting to the world of make-believe, complete with his own super-hero cape, I can't hold back.

(This picture makes me slightly uncomfortable today because of the fact that Timothy is becoming so strong and mobile... but don't worry, these pictures were taken when he was really just more of a blob and hadn't even figured out the rolling thing yet.)

My kids imaginations have exploded this year (probably has something to do with the fact that we only have room in our little apartment for a handful of toys).  So, that's fun.  Turns out all those toys built for helping stimulate the imagination actually hinder it!  At least, they do in my house... maybe my kids are more lazy than most.

I remember absolutely loving fabric as a kid.  My grandmother had a big box of it sitting in her basement... the possibilities were endless, and cleanup was easy.  I will fold up a whole box of fabric any day over sorting through a thousand Lego and puzzle pieces.

And, isn't that lamp just dreamy?!  I love seeing the style in furnished places. (The place in these pictures has become known as 'Daddy's apartment' because he lives here when he has to work in a city an hour and a half north sometimes.  It's fun to say 'Kids, we're going to Daddy's apartment today, so pack your bags'.  We totally fit in.)

Scrambled Thoughts VIII

1.  Sometimes I wish I had sound-proof space suits for my kids.  That way, they could click themselves in and then talk and squeal and laugh with each other to their hearts content through whatever speaker systems they use in those things, but all their noise would be contained.  In the suit.

Maybe some of you have had the experience of hanging on to your sanity by an unraveling thread while the chaos and noise around you mount and mount and mount.  The giggling!  The running!  The squawking!  The silliness!  It's fun sometimes, right?  And then sometimes it's not.  I'm still working out a solution to help in these times now that 'go outside' isn't always an option.  Indeed, some might think my parenting neglectful if I stuck the three older (louder) kids on the elevator alone and sent them hurdling down 11 floors to have free reign of the pool deck below.  So, mostly I just quietly remind them to lower their voices, to stop running, to please not shriek like that inside, to separate themselves from each other.  In one of my finer moments, when these gentle reminders were proving about as effective as banging my head into a wall (which, now that I think about it, would probably be quite effective if I did it in front of the children) I said, "Alright!  That's it!  I want you to... to... to... just... sit on the floor... and... and... just sit on the floor and... and... stare at each other.  No talking.  No laughing.  Just sit."

Fortunately, they're obedient.

Unfortunately, they really can only obey one direction at a time, so the 'no talking' and 'no laughing' parts of those directions got lost somewhere in their brains between the hearing part and the comprehending part.  So, the silliness resumed.  No, escalated.  I thought I was going to have to pull out the mop next with all the intense laughing going on.  Any ideas on how to put the reverse on the silly, out-of-control behavior once it's started if going outside isn't an option?

#2 - They get tired when we ride our bikes to the pier.

You can see where I'm going here now, right?

Don't let the kids fool you in the following picture, they're actually having fun.  My question is... why can't they behave a little more like this when they're at home?

I guess it's just that riding your bike a mile and a half in the sand is tiring after you've spent the whole morning running around inside the house.

These guys are turning into strong little puppies with this year of swimming every single day and biking in the sand to parks, piers, and libraries.

I like that.  I want my kids to feel strong.

#3 - I like calm kids.

Okay.  Looking back over these first three points, apparently all I can think about right now is the noise level in my house.  Let me tell you a little about what the atmosphere in my house is right this very minute and maybe you'll understand a bit better.  The kids have found that pots and pans make excellent helmets and that throwing Hot Wheels at said helmets (while jumping on the bed) makes an awesome sound that rings and rings and rings and rings in their ears.  And, incidentally, in the ears of anyone around them.  This is exceptionally funny and no laugh would do it justice save for the high pitched squealing ones that keep erupting from their lungs.  Then, of course, there's the bang of the cars hitting the walls when the aim happens to be slightly off on the four year old's arm.  Why do I allow this to happen, you ask?

Hmmm...

#4 - Let's talk about the pool instead.

My kids spend a lot of time underwater at the pool.

 Which is wonderful because then I can't hear them quite as well (... ... I did it again, didn't I?).

Before we moved down here we got our kids into an intense round of private swimming lessons and, let me tell you, it was the best $150 I ever spent in my life.  These kids are fish in the water and have so much fun with their confidence.

 

Plus, I feel so much more comfortable having watched them swim lap after lap after lap without tiring.  Even Miles can get himself across the length of the pool without stopping (though, it's not quite as pretty).
 

Also, I hesitantly forked out $20 for McKenzie's goggles because they have corrective lenses and have praised that decision hundreds of times so far.  Poor girl is as blind as a bat without them.

But, since she has them she's free to explore the bottom of the pool or ocean along with the rest of us.

We've only had one round of swimmers ear (poor Kenz) and it was bad enough to motivate us to put drops of alcohol and vinegar into their ears after each shower ever since.  So far it's working.

#5 - Okay.  This Hot Wheels throwing, bed jumping, pot clanging has got to stop.

And, I have to fold my laundry.