Date Night

 

You looked so beautiful last night as you skipped out the door behind your dad.

I wondered briefly when you stopped calling him Daddy.

You had smiled at your reflection in the mirror after I gave your eyelashes the slightest dab of mascara and brushed your cheeks with a fluffy brush that clung to a few specks of color.  You found your lip gloss on your own and applied it generously to your pink lips.  "Is this good, Mom?"  

A hesitant smile played on your face.  

I wondered briefly when you stopped calling me Mommy.

"Almost perfect," I said. "The only thing that would make it better is if that little, shy smile turned into a big, confident one."

We were in the middle of braiding your hair when Daddy came home from work.  He gave you just the reaction you were hoping for and you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world.  As he left to get ready himself, I finished your hair with a bit of pomade to help calm the frizz around your face.  You smiled in the mirror.  "And Dad thought I looked pretty before!"

You did look pretty, Kenz.  But it was the smile.  The light in your eyes.  The confidence.  The bounce in your step.  Those were the things that made you beautiful. 

Walking in the Light

Down the sandy beach path.

Through the park.

Along the paved running trail parallel to the ocean.

This is the way to our gorgeous new (to us), coral rock church building. 

Two miles between us and the church that are full of beautiful, beautiful scenery and - on the way home - sunset lighting. I may melt from happiness.

Did I mention it overlooks the bay?

Our ward congregation split last week and formed a (smaller) ward and a brand new branch.  We, along with the other members who live up along the beach, have been put into the new branch and could not be more excited about it. I've never been part of a branch before (a congregation that is too small to qualify as a 'ward') and the quaint feelings of intimacy and the electrifying feelings of missionary work combine together in such a unique way that I am so glad my children (and Brian and I) get to be part of it for a little while.

Two miles is a bit long for little legs, but we've never been this close to a church building before (in the last decade or so) and so the pull of the Sunday walk-to-church was too strong to ignore.  McKenzie, Timothy, and I thoroughly enjoyed it and, well, we'll work on the rest of the family. 

The first Sunday of the year, our sacrament meeting held maybe 30 people in the pews.  I had 6 of them.  The other large family had 7.  And 4 of them were missionaries. 

Last Sunday the number had jumped to around 50. 

A lot of that jump had to do with people coming back into town after the holidays, but the gospel is spreading like wildfire down here, and the missionaries are working so hard (around 80 baptisms in our ward alone last year).  I've been asked to teach the adult Sunday school class and was moved close to tears last Sunday as I watched the hard faces of adults who had been through hell and back soften with the simple truth that we are children of God.  And that he loves us.  

I feel so indebted to the Lord for allowing me to grow up with these truths being whispered into my ear.  I've heard conversion story after conversion story after conversion story and they all have a ring of similarity to it: I am happier now because of this. I know who I am. I know why I'm here. And I feel so much love.

I'm not sure how I got so lucky to be able to learn and teach this beautiful gospel in such a beautiful building. 

But I'll be keeping this harvest close.

Water of the Melon

Let's talk about watermelon.

I had awesome plans of throwing this watermelon in the ocean to teach my kids how to play watermelon polo.  But then I forgot that I had planned that.  We ate it for dinner instead.

I remembered about watermelon polo after we'd eaten the entire thing that night.  But I didn't think that playing with just the rind would be as much fun.

Plus, maybe sharks like watermelon rinds.

Speaking of kitchen tables, we don't actually have a good place inside the house for ours.

But that's okay.  We've figured out how to make it work.

 
And, being able to have this much fun at dinner knowing that the entire apartment looks just as disastrous as the slice you can see?  I love it here.

We'll play watermelon polo another time.

Crocigators

Have you ever watched a youtube video of an alligator or crocodile attacking a large mammal?  It's... chilling.  On a completely unrelated note, we took our four small children on a day trip to the everglades.

Brian was almost drunk with anticipation of finding a wild crocodile.  Or alligator.  He wasn't picky.  Did you know that southern Florida is the only place where alligators and crocodiles live in the same ecosystem?

We were just about ready to hop on an air-boat to go traveling through the mosquito-ridden swamplands in search of one of the reptiles when TK protested his hunger.  Deciding I'd much rather feed him in the comfort of our car vs. on an air-boat traveling through the mosquito-ridden swamplands, we found a small, seemingly deserted dirt road off the beaten path and started driving down it while TK filled his belly. 

Not three minutes into our detoured excursion, we found this guy sitting on the side of the swamps.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!" Brian screamed as he screeched the car to a halt and threw it into park in the middle of the road.  He grabbed the camera and jumped out the driver's door to snap some proof of our find.  This next picture is not zoomed... he got this close...

The children wanted desperately to follow Brian, but I quenched that hope before the full sentence was even expressed and told them that being fifteen feet away inside the car was close enough.  And then I let them roll down their windows as a compromise.  The crocigator (?) seemed quite uninterested in his audience and eventually sauntered away.

"Did you SEE that?!" Brian said as he slid back into his seat.  I love seeing him excited like that...

Within a few minutes, dark clouds started rolling in and added a creepyness to our fun little jaunt through the everglades.  Soon, the rain started pelting down on our car.  And then the rain started sheeting down in buckets.  And then the lightning started flashing right on top of us and made us clench our muscles in nervous excitement.

"You should send a text of that picture we got of the crocodile!" Brian requested. (Though, after some later research, I'm pretty sure it was an alligator because it's snout was more U shaped and less V shaped.)
I pulled out my phone and tried... "No reception."
We drove for a little while longer, eyes wide with excitement and car filled with anxious silence (but for the pounding of the rain on the rental car we were driving (turns out two cars cannot merge into the same lane at the same time (which is a whole nother story that you should ask Brian about sometime))), watching the wipers fail time and time again to create a clear view of the dirt road ahead.
"You know what this feels like?" I asked Brian as I took in the eerie atmosphere, smelled the new car smell, and after I had turned around to see the kids faces pressed up against the windows, searching for man-eating reptiles.  "What?"
"Jurassic Park."

He threw his head back in agreeing laughter.  I love seeing him laugh like that...

For the next couple of hours the rains slowed and poured and slowed and poured, but when they seemed to be gone completely we decided we had had an amazing, perfect day in the everglades and didn't want to finish it off with an air-boat ride that would probably just let us down, with how much fun we had already had. So we finished driving the deserted dirt road, taking in more of the surroundings.

Everglades, we will be back.  Please show us just as good a time next time...

Three Month Face

Life has gotten busier.

I think it has something to do with this adorable face.

I keep thinking that if I was just a little bit more organized, and a little bit more diligent, and if I had a little bit of a nicer of a day planner, that life would magically fall into an easy pace. 

Then I'd be able to exercise, and edit pictures, and blog, and play forty games of Uno, and snuggle TK's warm body, and read a half an hour each night to each kid, and help with homework, and make a delicious breakfast, lunch and dinner for the family, and keep the house meticulously clean for all the home-buyers out there.  And take a nap.

But really, I'm kidding myself.  I think one of the biggest tests in this life is in learning how to balance.  In learning how to choose the necessities and to prioritize the rest.  Blogging is such an important part of my life.  I love to do it... I love to take and edit the pictures... I love to write.  And there are so many things I'd like to write about.  I get frustrated when I can't put as much time into this as I'd like.  I would like to write about everything... record all of my thoughts and feelings about all of my experiences. (Which... while maybe boring for you... would be so fun and fulfilling to me!)

But... then I see this beautiful face and remember that this season of my life is dedicated to him.  Sometimes I can't kiss those cute chubby cheeks and write about it.  So I have to choose.  Turns out I'll take kissing the chubby cuteness every time. 

He's ticklish.  Really.  It's about the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.  I'm pretty sure none of my other babies giggled this young in response to a tickle.  A small grunt of a laugh, maybe.  But not giggling.  It might be my favorite thing about this little guy right now.  Though, picking a favorite is pretty tough.  Boy do we sure love this little guy.

Camera vs. Face

Isn't he beautiful?  Even with a gash across his nose?

I let Miles use the camera.  That was the first mistake.  Truthfully, it wasn't even my camera to let him use, but he asked so excitedly, and his red curls have that magic tendency to pull a yes from me.  I'll deal with the reprecusions from McKenzie later, I thought as I handed her prized purple camera over to the eager hands and watched him run down the hall.  Minutes later I heard a solid thwack and Carson came stumbling out of the bedroom with his hands over his face, crying out in pain.  

Each of my children deal with pain differently.  McKenzie has a tendency to collapse to the floor and roll around moaning if her hangnail pulls in a funny direction.  If she doesn't get attention, the moans quickly escalate to a frantic loud panting, whimpering, and eventually end in deep screams.

Miles largely ignores pain.  The kid has more bumps and bruises than I can count, but I rarely hear about them (unless he remembers that Band-aids exist in this world and then he'll ask for several).  When I do hear about his pain, however, it's big.  Jumping up and down, shaking hands and screaming big.  His face goes pale and gigantic tears course down his cheeks.  (One time he even turned blue and passed out before he took a breath from the initial (hard) impact.  Scariest. Thing. Ever.)

Carson braves his way through it.  He'll try to hide his tears by blinking them away quickly and fool the world with a closed-mouth smile until the shock of the pain wears away enough for him to tell me 'It's okay.  I'm okay.' 

So when Carson stumbled out of the bedroom crying out in pain, I knew something was probably broken and it got the 'run down the hall' out of me.  (Do you really ever run in your house?  Funny that kids seem to run from room to room to room but, even if I'm in a hurry, I only walk briskly.)  I wrapped him in my arms and asked to see his head.

"Mooooooooooommmmmmm!" came the call from McKenzie.  "You let Miles use my camera and he just threw it at Carson's face!"

Whoops.  Sorry, Kenz.  And sorry, Carson.

Carson let me look at his forehead while he rubbed the tears from his eyes (sometimes I think he's thinking that if he just rubs his eyes hard enough, the tears will stop).  It looked fine... I couldn't even see a bump.  Weird, I thought.  "Well, it looks like everything is fine, Buddy," I said as I stroked his hair.  "I don't even see a bump."  He nodded and walked away, still rubbing his eyes but not crying anymore.  

A minute later he came into the bathroom I was cleaning to ask a question.  I looked up at him and immediately felt like Mother of the Year because, obviously, that deep gash that was crossing the bridge of his nose and dripping blood must have been there when I inspected his forehead for any bumps.  Guess I forgot to check for gashes.

Closer inspection revealed that the gash was deep enough to need a bit of attention and, thankfully, I remembered that my husband had brought home some Derma-Bond (think Super Glue for the skin) from the hospital for just such an occasion.  No ER visit for us!  Even so... Carson was feeling nervous.

He worried that the glue would sting the open wound and all I could say was, "I don't think it will, Bud" because I've never actually glued my skin back together.  McKenzie was delighted to take over the camera and capture Doctor Mommy in action.

Thankfully the cut closed perfectly when he scrunched up his nose... so his job was to scrunch his nose and not move.  Mine was to glue him back together.  Miles's was to sit in time-out.  Timothy's was to be happy without being held.  And Kenzie's was to capture the moment.  We all did awesome, if I do say so myself.  Fantastic shot, Kenz!

Genius who invented Derma-Bond?  You are a lifesaver.   Taking four children to the ER or Urgent Care is something I'd like to avoid.  Forever.

Rock Star of the Biome Bonanza Kind

Lest you think Carson is the only science lover in our house, let me introduce you to this ecstatic silver medalist:

Want to know everything there is to know about rocks?  Ever wondered what the differences between sedimentary, igneous and metamorphic rocks are?  This girl knows her stuff!  She'll tell you how rocks are formed and give you examples of each.  Need a rock identified?  You've come to the right place!  She studied for months to be able to participate in this year's Science Olympiad, where mind athletes of all kinds came from several schools to compete with one another.  And, boy, was she excited to be part of this team!

There were several science categories that these kids competed in... and McKenzie chose two for herself: Rock Star (where she learned all about rocks) and Biome Bonanza (where she studied the different biomes of the world).  Nerves set in the night before the competition and she spent the evening feeling sick in her stomach.

The feelings of nervousness were accompanied by excitement when she woke up the next morning.  It was time.  It was time to prove what months of studying and preparation could do.
"I just hope I get a medal," she said longingly as she put her shoes on her feet.
"I do, too, Kenz.  I want you to shoot for the best," I said.  "But, *insert teaching moment* just remember that you already have something that is way more precious than a medal... do you know what that is?"
She looked at me with a confused look and sincerely thought about what that might be.  After a few seconds she slowly shook her head.
"Knowledge," I said.  A smile of excitement broke across her face that warmed me to my toes and I continued, "Even if you don't get a medal today, you have learned so much about different things in this world, and that will stay with you forever and ever.  That's what I'm proud of you for.  And, if you get a medal, that would be awesome, too."

Down on Duke campus, kids dealt with the stress of the day in different ways.  Staring off into space... nervous smiles... picking noses...

...and they competed behind closed doors - but I can just see McKenzie milling around to the different tables of rocks in her Rock Star competition, checking boxes as she identified the hard lumps and answering all other sorts of other rocky questions.  She came away from those rocks knowing she had done well... and what an awesome feeling that is!  Her biome bonanza competition was not as easy for her, but she did her best and felt happy in the things that she did know instead of frustrated at the things she did not (such a skill that I'm still trying to develop).  And after all competitions were completed, the kids ate pizza and played in the beautiful sunshine while the judges graded the papers and tallied the scores.

Soon the results were in and all the kids assembled in the assembly hall.  The excitement was electrifying! 

At one point during the awards ceremony McKenzie turned around, caught my eye, and mouthed the words, "THIS. IS. SO. COOL!"  The awards for Biome Bonanza came relatively early, as they were going in alphabetical order, and she did not receive a medal.  I watched her like a hawk, my emotional sensors on hyper-alert to try and pick up her reaction and was delighted to see her clapping with vigor for her teammates who won the medals (who happened to be the two cute kids sitting right in front of me).  There wasn't any disappointment at all!  I realized in that moment that she was completely enveloped in team spirit... a victory for her school was a victory for her.

Even so, I have to admit that I held my breath and crossed my fingers when the awards for the Rock Star competition started to be announced... and - joy of joys - her name was called for the silver medal. 

Oh, was she excited.  Several times throughout the rest of the day I heard her mutter to herself, I just can't believe I have this medal.  She even wore it to bed that night. 

We are proud of you Kenz... proud of you for winning a medal, sure.  But, mostly proud of you for diligently studying.  For learning and for applying yourself, for going through with something even though you were nervous, for feeling proud of your biome bonanza performance even with the lack of a medal and for displaying such team spirit.

We LOVE you, sister!

Hold Still while I Shine this Flashlight in Your Face

*Carson is awesome.  He does science experiments. 

This boy needs to make a laminated sign that says But, How Does It Work? and carry it around with him everywhere he goes.  That way he could just flash the sign and save the breath.  He's interested in science, mathematics, nature, physics... asking questions like, 'but how does the electricity charge the battery?' and 'how does the poison from the spider make you sick' and 'how can hair actually grow in your belly?' (he was most disturbed when he saw that Timothy had hair - apparently growing the rest of a human body is acceptable, but hair crosses the line.)  So when news came home from school about the science fair, I knew he would love it. I was totally right.

He and Brian spent some fun time together talking about and executing their experiment.  The question:  How do different lights affect pupil size?
The experiment enrolled several willing participants, one rather forced participant (sorry for shining bright lights in your eyes, Timothy!), lots of different lights, and a find-the-pupil-size chart (I'm sure that's the technical name for it).

Miles was ecstatic to be the headlamp guy.

The day of the science fair finally arrived and, because we are all procrastinators at our house, we had yet to make the poster.  Procrastination is never fun, but this one bit us pretty hard because we had a tiny baby in the ICU on this day... but Brian was excited and happy to help Carson put the poster together while I stayed at the hospital, and I'm almost certain that they had more fun without me there suggesting that they cut the lines a little straighter, or position the pictures a little more symmetrically, or wouldn't putting a mat underneath each picture make it look better?  My poor family.  I was super impressed with their poster, but I was even more impressed with Carson's ability to explain it all.  He did awesome!  And he had such a great time doing it.  The kids he taught were so enthralled with his short explanations and (mostly) at the demonstration part when Brian took the flashlight and showed the kids exactly what Carson had been talking about.  Awesome! they said.  Wow!  Cool!  Carson felt like a million bucks.

Love, love, love it when my kids feel fulfilled by things other than receiving candy.