Take off your flip-flops and stay awhile.

One.  Two.  Threefourfivesixseven.  Eight.  Nine.  Teneleven.  Twelve.  Thirteen.  Thirteen sets of visitors in twelve months.  Thousands of dollars in food, hundreds of hours of soul filling conversations, thousands of miles put on the van, hundreds of gallons of gas, one ripped set of guest sheets, over 50 late nights visiting, ten trips through the everglades, hundreds of crocodiles and alligators spotted (two touched - Dave (and, thankfully, zero injuries - Dave)), one trip to Disney World, one drive to Key West, and amazingly, only one popped air mattress.

Guest #1 - Brian's brother, Dave.  

(This man deserves some sort of medal.  You should have seen the work he had to do in order to help us move into our 11th floor apartment.)

One of the great things about blogging is that with all of these memories recorded, we will someday be able to look back and see through this window stories of the way things were.

Guest #2 - Brian's sister, Heidi.

One of the not-so-great things about blogging is that it's nearly impossible to record the stories in their entirety and so, much is left out and much is forgotten.

I didn't write about all the visitors that came to visit throughout the year - not because I wanted them to be among the left out and forgotten, but because, frankly, it was quite overwhelming to keep up.  I had so much else to say and so little time to spend here saying it (it's that whole four-kids-at-home-all-the-time thing) that I knew if I devoted time to blogging about each visitor that that would be all I had time for.  And I knew I didn't want that, either.

 Guests #3 - My parents

But now, as I scan through the pictures of our year on the beach, I find myself lingering longest in the hundreds and hundreds I have of you. They're not the most beautiful, by far, in terms of composition and lighting and other technicalities, but they are the most beautiful, by far, in terms of the warm memories they bring back to the surface.

And it would be terribly sad and rather misleading to not spend some time stamping the memory of 'visitors' into this moment in time. 

Because it was such a big part of our year. 

Guest #4 - My sister, Michelle.

I mean, without Michelle, the above picture would have never happened.  Because I certainly was not brave enough to try gator nuggets without her.  PS - don't try gator nuggets.

I took a look at myself after our very last set of visitors caught their plane back home.  I smiled because the bags underneath my eyes were so puffy that it almost looked like I was wearing a cartoon mask. 

Guest #5 - My brother, Brian

(Sorry, Brian... I didn't mean for your picture to fall right after I said the words 'cartoon mask', because now everyone is thinking the words 'cartoon mask' as they stare at your face.  You don't look like you're wearing a cartoon mask... pinky promise.) 

I deserved those bags under my eyes.  I worked hard for them.  I earned them.  And oh, how I loved them. 

 Guest #6 - Heidi (again) and her boyfriend-at-the-time-turned-husband, Adam

I didn't love the way they made me look, let's be clear.  But I loved the way they made me feel.  

Those bags forced me to recognize my bone reaching tiredness, for sure; but what I found inside was that it was ultimately a happy and satisfying tiredness. 

Guest #7 - Brian's brother, Dave (again (this time he didn't have to move any furniture))

I guess it's the sort of tiredness that comes from living life.  From having fun.  From connecting with others.  From loving and serving and doing.  

Which, when I looked at it that way, made sense of my longing for more.  Please come! I said to those who expressed interest.  I tried not to be pushy, but in my own head I shouted Please come! at them for days afterwards.  

 

Guests #8 - The Birdnos

And while I ended the year exhausted, I started the year hoping we would be able to share our life and our home with our families and friends. Our year was more than we could have dreamed for - and I wanted to share the beauty with everyone I could. 

And they came.

Guests #9 - Brian's brave parents (they did the whole Disney thing with us this year)

You came!  

You came even though you knew we didn't have beds for you.  And we didn't have an extra bathroom for you.  In fact, we didn't have much square footage to offer you at all!  You didn't mind that we couldn't fit a kitchen table.  Anywhere.  And happily ate your meals with us on our couches and floors. 

(confusion buster: the kitchen table in the above pictures is in our rented room at Disney.  Funny that the only pictures of a kitchen table in this entire post come right after I mention the fact that we did not, in fact, have a kitchen table in our house.)

Guests #10 - My wonderful parents (again)

You brought out fun sides in my kids.   

You helped us explore new places.

 Guests #11 - The Larsons

And, best of all, you kept the beauty and the majesty of life alive in all of us. 

That last sentiment is true for not only those that were able to come and be guests within our walls (because I know there were more of you who wanted to come but couldn't), but also for those of you who shared our year through this blog, too.  With each fresh pair of eyes we saw the beauty all over again.  On my tenth visit to the everglades, for example, I saw just as much beauty as I did the first time... because someone was seeing it for the first time.

Guest #12 - My dear friend, Cindy

After staring at the same ocean and the same slice of beach from our windows day after day, we found new beauty and wonder from your comments and through your eyes.  Every time you'd gasp from the beauty, I'd see it again.  Oh yeah, this is incredible.  And since that happened so often, you helped me milk out the most enjoyment and the most fulfillment possible.  

So thanks for coming, guys.

Guests #13 - My sister, Michelle, and her boyfriend, Jake

And thanks, beach, for being a place that people wanted to visit.  You all made the year awesome.  (cue song and dance. Everything is awesome!  Everything is cool when you're part of a team! Everything is aweSOME!... You're welcome for that.)

Now.  How about a visit to Vegas? *wink*

Scrambled Thoughts XIb - Miami Style

18 - Smoky or Smokey? (smokie or smokay)

Google says smoky.  Apparently, 'smokey' used to be right, but it's now outdated.  This concerned me because I didn't really realize the spelling of specific words could become old fashioned (but of course this is true... old English texts are full of funny spellings now that I think about it).  Thankfully the spelling trends seem to last much longer than the fashion trends, though.  Otherwise my words would be just as awful as my closet.

19 - Fly Like an Eagle

This pier is a special place for us.  Many mornings were spent getting here, staying here, and getting home from here. 

Plus, we got to watch boats.  And birds.

20 - He needs gills.

It's cute the way he feels so comfortable in the water.  Really, it is.  One of the very first words he responded to was 'dunk'.
"Dunk, TK!" the kids would yell.  Sometimes there was a slight hesitation as we watched him decode the word and separate it from the other few he knew.  Okay, let's see, we saw him think to himself.  They didn't say 'clap'... or 'wave'... or 'nose'... ah! and he would slap his face down into the water and come up laughing. Dunk!  I remember!

 21 - Not many people rock giant goggles the way Miles rocks giant goggles.

I'm pretty sure it has something to do with that amazing hair.  Most things have something to do with that amazing hair.

22 - Someone should write a whole post about Brian.

Because he really is amazing.  He just finished 10 years of post-graduate work, you know (not that anyone has been counting).  Every time I go to one of these work dinners I'm told by several people that he is 'remarkable', 'great', 'efficient', and 'wonderful'.  Of course, I already know this, but hearing others say it makes me feel proud all over again for the incredible guy that he is.  Years and years ago, I used to sit home and wonder what Brian was like in his clinic.  I wondered what his bedside manner was like with his patients, and how he got along with his co-workers.  Later, I wondered what 'surgeon Brian' was like as he peered through magnifying glasses with his hair in a cap and his face in a mask and his hands in their gloves holding tiny razors. I wanted to get to know this 'work self' because I craved knowing all the intricacies of his personality.  But over the years, as patients have written notes and given small gifts of appreciation to him, and as co-workers have approached me and painted their own picture of Brian in front of my eyes, I've realized that I know exactly who Brian is at work.

He's the same guy who eats at our dinner table every night.
The same one that carries the baby up to his room and tucks the kids between their sheets.
Who shares that carton of ice cream with me, and makes sure my favorite spoon is with me.
He's the same guy that loves me.  And the same guy I love.

He's Brian.  Everywhere he goes, he's Brian.
That's why it's really no surprise to me when everyone loves him.

23 - But no one loves him quite as much as we do.  And Father's Day pressures us into showing that love.

The relationship between Brian and McKenzie is flourishing right now.  In her Father's Day card, Kenzie wrote "I love my dad because he understands me when I'm sad."  This is precious to me because McKenzie has turned into quite the thinker.  She said what she meant and she meant what she said and she is 100% correct.  There have been several times when Brian has helped me understand what she might be feeling, and I love him for that.  So does she. 

They are quite similar, those two.  And since I believe that girls need strong relationships with their fathers for a whole slew of reasons, I am touched to tears by the look on her face above.  She is literally melting into his shoulder - and his tender expression shows he is melting right back.

These are four lucky kids to have a daddy like that.

24 - Two words: World Cup.

Miles enjoyed watching the games with Brian, but he had his own conditions... ear plugging must be allowed.

25 - That's Shocking.

Suuuuuuuuuuuuuper glad I wasn't on that boat.

26 - Someone should write a whole post about Miles.

Because he had his 5th birthday.  He's a special one, this kid.  And his birthday was something of magic for him.  He did a lot of talking on the phone...

...and talking on the phone...

...and talking on the phone...

 

But since it was Sunday, we also got to go to church.  And, lucky him, our little branch held a fun dinner afterwards where everyone sang Happy Birthday.

Then we came home and had cake and candy covered marshmallows (because they're supposed to look like mushrooms, okay?  Mario...?)

The whole day he was moving way too fast for me to get a good picture of him.  Which I guess is wonderful because it means he was having a blast.

Also, I made that cake, so it was a pretty wonderful day for me as well.

In many ways Miles seems much, much older than five years old.  He is smart and opinionated and gracious and passionate.  His feelings are often very expressive and larger than life and I love that about him.  He makes our home a better place than it otherwise would have been...  Motherhood is sweet in that way, don't you think?  In the way of being touched by these remarkable personalities for a time as you house them and watch them as they refine themselves to get ready to venture out into the world beyond your walls.

I can't wait to meet the man Miles becomes.

Scrambled Thoughts XIa - Miami Style

 11 - Boats are not generally confused with airplanes.

But, turns out, it's possible to be tricked into a double-take when one looks like it's flying.

 12 - To the stranger in the park: thanks for teaching my son how to ride a bike. 

 

There was a time in Miles's life, not too long ago (but, then again, I guess nothing in Miles's life was too long ago because, five years old) when he didn't give up easily.  When he was just a few months older than one year, for instance, I watched him step up and down and up and down and up and down a little stair (which was so small it might be better identified as a 'lip') in our cement patio until he could do it without falling.  "That kid is persistent!  He sure doesn't give up easily," I remember my dad saying as he watched the same scene.

But then Miles got on a bike. One without training wheels, mind you.  And the world around him shattered and crumbled into a million pieces when he realized that learning this new skill was going to require some work and effort.

He gave up.  And then he gave up again.  And again and again and again and again.  And again.  Day after day.  (But the flip side to all of this giving up, of course, is that in order for him to have given up that many times, he had to try that many times which, in the end, means maybe he didn't give up after all?) And each time he'd walk away crying I'd tell cryptic stories about people falling off horses and getting back on them again and then I'd decode the morals for him and he would be left wondering why we didn't just get him a horse instead of a dumb bike anyway.

Every day for two weeks we rode to the park with training wheels on his tires and a wrench in my stroller and, once we got to the playground, the wrench would come out and the training wheels would come off until he rediscovered all over again that he could not just innately ride the thing, but would have to work.  There was usually blood and there was always sweat and tears, and at the end of the day (which sometimes lasted 3 minutes and sometimes lasted 3.5), we put the training wheels back on the bike and rode home.

I did mention a stranger in the title... and I'm getting to that point now.  After a particularly grueling 3.5 minute day after a long string of particularly grueling 3 minute days, a kind old man rode up on a bike of his own.

"I see you're trying to learn how to ride a bike, young man," the stranger said.  "What's your name?"  In response to this question, Miles characteristically hid behind my leg and focused his concentration on a crack in the sidewalk so intensely that I wondered if it were possible to get him to focus his concentration that much in any other situation... such as cleaning his room, for instance.

"Hey," I whispered over my shoulder towards Miles's head, "did you hear this nice man ask you what your name is?"

Such concentration!

"This is Miles," I answered to the stranger for him, "and he appears to be feeling rather shy right now."

"Well, that's okay," the stranger said.  "Let me tell you something, Miles, and you don't have to look at me while I tell you.  When I was learning to ride a bike, my father taught me something very important and very helpful, and when I became a father I told my own sons the same thing, and now I'm going to tell you.

"All you have to do is remember to turn your front wheel in the direction that you're falling.  So if you're starting to fall over on your left side, quickly turn your wheel to the left!  And if you're falling to your right side, quickly turn your wheel to the right!  Good luck, young man.  You'll get it."

And with that the old man rode away.  Miles broke his concentration from the crack in the sidewalk to stare in awe as the stranger slipped down the path through the trees.

And wouldn't you know, the very next day Miles was ecstatic and riding like a champ.  And I was rather embarrassed in the discovery of my apparently awful teaching skills when it comes to bike riding.

Anyway, after riding didn't seem like an impossible dream to Miles anymore, his old persistence and determination came shining through and he rode and rode and rode and rode until he could turn wide circles and then tighter circles and eventually start all by himself.

I think I'll call that guy the Old Stranger Angel Man from now on.  Just because it's fun to say.

13 - Pools are relaxing.

There need to be more things in life like pools. Energy drainers for the kids, energy fillers for the adults.


14 - Pools are also very not relaxing.  Like, if this guy is around.

From before he started crawling, he's had one thought circling through his brain - how can I get into that water?  He even perfected his crawling at the pool-side because the water was such a strong motivator.  The only problem: he sinks like a rock.  Which makes pool time quite the opposite of relaxing for the mama. 

15 - Losing friends is sad.

Really, it was a matter of time.  Candy enclosed in glass over a white marble floor?  It was still tragic, though.  Carson took it the hardest.  Timothy was thrilled however, because, gumballs! 

16 - Loaded Nachos.  The menu description reads: "the most common reactions to this item are: "oooh," "ahhh," "wow," and "where am I?"

I laughed at the description, but figured they couldn't be that impressive (I'm a bit of a nacho snob because that's what I ordered every. single. time. I. could as a teenager).  However, the second I saw the waiter coming with this pile of deliciousness I said, "oooh," and as he set it down in front of me I said "ahhh," and as he was walking away I looked at Carson and said, "wow," . . . and then I stopped myself because I realized I was practically quoting everyone else who had ever ordered these nachos and I refused to say "where am I?" because I already knew that the answer to that question was Flanigan's.  

Carson and I happily packed them away.

17 - Every time the kids find a coconut, they ask if it's ripe.  And every time the kids ask if the coconut is ripe I say I don't know.

Google searches seem to be consistently inconsistent (it depends on what you want, they say (okay, so the problem is that we don't actually know what we want)).  But since there were several that washed up in the waves, we had fun trying to open them.  This one required a hammer and a screwdriver used as a chisel.

Everyone was quite unimpressed with the taste, but using the hammer and screwdriver was exciting. For Brian.