Scrambled Thoughts IV: Beach Style

1.  Summer is not long enough on a year round schedule

Can you believe the kids are going back to school today?  I tried to tell the school that I'm not done playing with the kids yet... that there are still vacations, and rain puddles, and craft supplies, and pelican snowballs (that need to be eaten for lunch)...  But the school insisted, and reminded me that I'll have to save it for when they release them for fall break.

2.  Summer is a bit too long on a year round schedule

I smell it.  The routines, schedules, planners.  The blog posts to write.  Mopping the floor with my ipod stuck in my ears, pretending I'm a famous dancer while singing at the top of my lungs (ahhhh.... so much nicer than having to lock the children downstairs for 20 minutes so the floors can dry without them slipping and cracking open their heads). 

3.  Miles can pull off windblown

It's true that I have a pretty heavy hand when it comes to deleting pictures.  But Miles broke me this time.  Every single picture I took in this little session weaseled it's way into my heart and wouldn't let me delete it without crying rivers of tears.  So they stayed and got put into this collage.  How could you delete that little red halo?

4.  Carson is the Bird Whisperer, while McKenzie is the Birds Are Scary So Run Away From Them-er

 Carson's pretty much a bird-pro since they learned all about them in his kindergarten class last year.  He sat patiently (well... as patiently as Carson gets) on our beach blankets, making seagull noises until he had a flock of them surrounding him.  (The little pretzel pieces I kept secretly throwing out might have helped a bit.)  He fell in love with those birds!  And though his calls might not have attracted them initially, they really did answer him each time he called out to them.  No bond is greater than a boy and his gull.

5. If you ever get a chance to ride a bike on the beach, you should.  It's romantic.

Even if your children are zooming around you and you're mostly worried about them running over the sun-bathers.

We took a few hours out of one day and rode our bikes around the island, which was absolutely gorgeous.  Except, it took a bit of practice for me to feel comfortable on a funny-feeling bike with Miles sitting in a plastic kid seat behind my own.  He was freaked out for the first little bit, "Don't fall, Mommy!"  "Did-oo ah-most fall?"  "Whoa.  Dat a big bump."  I was freaked out for the first little bit, too, as I tried to get used to Miles throwing his weight around behind me.  Don't fall, Linds... precious cargo in back.  "Nope!  I didn't almost fall, Miles!"  Whoa, that was a huge bump.  "Isn't this fun, Miles!  Here comes a bump!"  We got the hang of it after about 30 minutes and I started relaxing my tense muscles one by one until I felt comfortable and Miles started laughing.



6.  Daddy-Daughter pictures are always beautiful

  
 7.  Wildlife has never been my favorite

I can't help it... one of my biggest fears is getting eaten by a shark.  Getting eaten by alligators is also something to avoid.  Getting tickled by starfish?  I can handle that.

But I'd rather there just be nothing alive in the water I'm swimming in. As far as birds go, I'm okay with them as long as they keep their poop away from me.  I've been pooped on before by birds.  Twice.  I don't like it.  But I LOVE how the birds make this picture...

8.  My love for my children grows when they ask me to take a picture of them in an awesome spot.

Miles won my love this day. 

9.  My name looks cool in the sand

What?  It's not a vain thing... it's just that I have a cool-looking name.  And sand is cool.  So when you put the two together...  Don't be jealous; I bet your name looks cool in the sand, too.

10.  Beaches are fun

Hopefully next year, Brian's program will pay us again for spending a weekend on the beach.  I could handle that over and over and over and over...

Summer Togetherness

Love.  Love, love, love.  These kids love each other to the ends of the earth and back.  There are times when their sweetness towards each other cracks my heart open and happiness spills out through my eyes.  Ahhhhh, that's right.  That love really does exist.  I forgot a bit about that love, so it was nice to come across this picture in my editing tonight to remind me of it.  Tonight, the end of our 4th week of summer vacation.  Tonight, when it's been much too hot to go outside to play for more than a few minutes, but much too cramped to stay inside.  Tonight when the clutter of the days has started to swallow the furniture, and the fighting between them all escalated into something more commonly found in screaming banshees than in human children.  They've been loving each other and happy to be together for most of the break, but we've recently discovered that there really can be too much of a good thing.

But tomorrow... tomorrow I will be more patient with it and give them the individual (and separate) attention that they all need.  I forgot about that today.  And yesterday.  And the day before.  But tomorrow we will love each other.  Ahhhhh, that sounds good.

That's not what this post is about, however.

This post is about how awesome it is when your husband's job pays you to spend a weekend on the beach.  All I had to do was give up my husband for a couple of hours on Saturday morning so he could give a presentation to all the other ophthalmologists vacationing on the island.  Sounds like a pretty uneven trade weighted in my favor... but do you hear me complaining?

And, have you ever seen a storm roll in behind the beach?  Beautiful...  and a little bit scary.

 

Maybe we were a little crazy to stay out near the water while the rain started to fall... but I hadn't seen any lightning, and we didn't die, so I'm glad we did.

Plus, we got to play in some nice warm puddles once the rain passed.

Someday, I will live on the beach.  Yes I will.  I'm sure if I lived on the beach my children would never fight and my house would stay clean always because we'd never be in it.

In fact, I think the next time my energy gets zapped by Summer Togetherness, the kids and I should pile in the car and take the journey to the beach for the day. On second thought, we'd probably have to invent a transporter... because there's nothing like a bit of Summer Togetherness All Packed In A Car For Three Hours Each Way to bring out those screaming banshees again...

Start Spreadin' the News... I'm Leavin' Today...

Do you know what I've fallen in love with?  Flying on an airplane by myself.  No little hands to keep track of, no hungry tummies to keep full, no 30 second attention spans to keep entertained, not even a conversation to keep going.  Just alone.  All alone.  Me, a good book, and my ipod shuffle.  I even gave off Don't Talk To Me vibes; you probably would have been intimidated by them.  But, I tell you, I got through chapter after chapter after chapter of my book without being interrupted.  It was blissful. 

My excitement reverted to 5-year-old status when I realized that my family's plane had landed minutes before and two gates away from my own, and that they would all be waiting just outside my gate.  I had to control the urge to bolt from the airplane through the tunnel.  I may or may not have been bouncing in the isle as I waited for everyone ahead of me to deboard, and all the excitement came rushing right out of my mouth once I saw their happy faces waiting for me.  Sometimes I talk too much... and I think this may have been one of those times.  But how could I help it when I had this beautiful face greet me?

My sister Michelle is the best.  Who else would stare straight into the camera lens when I say, "Ignore me for a second while I check the light here."  Usually people get all awkward and pretend it's natural for them to stand up a little straighter, tuck their chin in, sport an awkward half-smile and look away with slightly wider eyes.  Love her.

The rest of my family is also the best.  You don't have to stare into the camera lens to be the best.  It just helps sometimes.

I won't mention names, but someone who might also be the patriarch of the family thought it would be a great idea to save a few bucks by cramming the six of us into one hotel room for that first night. (Of course, that someone knew he had a guaranteed bed because, aforementioned, he might also have been the patriarch of the family.)  That night, after the lights were out and I was snuggled up in my blankets on the floor, we laughed and laughed and laughed.  When the laughs died down after a particularly hearty sequence my brother sighed from his own cozy(ish) floor spot (or un-cozy... depends on how optimistic you're trying to be) and said through his audible grin,

"Ohhhhhhh.  I like us."

I like us, too.

The next morning I awoke to sore abs from laughing (and sore everything-else from losing the sleep battle with concrete covered in carpet.  Seriously... wasn't I 20 yesterday?).

See the funny dog in shoes up there?  My first 'hip shot' (taking a shot without raising the camera to your eye).  Handy when you're traveling in crowded streets and don't particularly want people (or dogs) to know you're taking pictures of them. Apparently people get really good at it, but for me it's more of a fun surprise each time to see what I got.  This one took a few tries to even get the dog in the frame... pretty sure I lost my inconspicuousness by checking the shot four different times.  I'm just lucky I didn't run into a pole or something while I was completely not paying attention to what was in front of me.

We walked past the temple and I was shocked to see how in-the-middle of the city it is.  Taxis driving by out front, people with suitcases strolling past, a man selling hot dogs on the corner...  a bit different than the Salt Lake Temple.

This picture on the left was my second hip shot.  I love the angle... only too bad the angel Moroni didn't quite make the cut.

We also went to the Twin Tower Memorial site.  Impressive and heart wrenching.

But most of our time was spend down on Times Square.  Standing in line for Broadway plays, seeing Broadway plays, anticipating Broadway plays, and talking about how great the Broadway plays were. 

Newsicle (off-Broadway), Newsies, and Peter and the Star Catcher made our play list and the latter two left us both speechless and unable to stop chattering about them.  Phenomenal.  

Thanks for such an awesome vacation, Dad!

And, bonus! The day after I got home, I jumped in the car with my husband and kids to head to the beach... there's nothing like missing your kids a bit to make you love them more. 

 

I'm Gonna Make You Pop - u - lar

You're eight years old and can't stop bouncing with joy.  You've just learned that Daddy is taking you to a musical.  You get to dress in your Sunday best, sit in red-cushioned seats with gold-plated numbers, and hold your very own ticket in a real performing arts theater.  Wicked is coming to your town, and as your parents briefly explain the story line to you, your eyes and smile get wider until they don't quite fit your face anymore.  Your parents remind you that your favorite song as a two year old came from this play, and then they start playing the music for you.  Over the next two weeks they listen to every song with you and explain the details of the plot (because the build-up is sometimes the greatest part of the experience).



Finally the day arrives.  You have several of the songs memorized by now and the anticipation keeps popping inside you as you sit through your second grade classes and ride the bus home.  The bus seems to take longer than usual, and you greet your mom with a skip in your step and ask, Is it time to get ready now?!

Yes.  Yes it is.  Come in and have a snack while I draw your bath, young lady.

You and your mom work together to scrub your body clean.  Your mom even brings out the nail scrubber and you laugh as the bristles tickle under your toenails.  Manicures and pedicures are next; you choose a solid color somewhere between the girlish pink and the darkest red and even decide not to alternate colors this time.  It seems more grown-up that way. Your hair, now that it's cut short, is dry by the time your nails are and only needs three minutes with a curling iron to turn it fancy because of the beautiful, natural curl you already have.  You don't like the heat and crinkle your face up in worry each time the hot iron spins toward your face.  But you're brave.  And you don't move. There is no question, when Mom gives you access to her earrings, that you will choose the dangliest of them all. You laugh when you feel them touching your neck. You finally find the right dress after changing your mind twice, slip the white fabric over your beautiful face, and can't stop smiling at your reflection after the final touch of lip-gloss puts a sparkle to your lips.

Daddy shows up.  And he has flowers.

Your Daddy is dashing in his suit.

And you are so beautiful.

Mom puts the point and shoot camera into your hands and instructs you to get pictures while you're there and to remember every detail so you can tell her all about it when you get back home.  She'll wait up for you.

You waste no time with the camera.

You draw attention as you walk across the street and into the performing arts center.  You're smaller than most everyone; you skip with excitement; you shine in your white dress; and you showcase the love between you and your tall and handsome date by holding his hand and chattering unceasingly with your face pointed up in his direction. Person after person stops you to comment on how lovely you look.

You come back to the house at around 11:00pm.  Tired eyes full of sparkles.  You laugh over and over again and change into your pajamas as you tell and retell your favorite parts of the musical to your mom.  And then you collapse in a tired heap.

And probably dream in green.

Wordless Wednesday