Yes, again

After a year of arthritis in my knees keeping me from running.

Then a year of stenosis of L4/L5 plus shingles keeping me from running.

And now a year with a broken foot keeping me from running,

or really any sort of exercise,

it's time to do it again.

Starting tomorrow.

So, if you see me chowing down on my purple cabbage, orange, and turkey or prawns you'll know why.

This time around I'll take multi-vitamins and iron to keep from losing my hair (I checked into preventing it from happening again).

Wish me luck.

I can do this!

Can You Hand Me That?

If you know me very well, you know that I'm not a morning person

at

all.

I really don't like to interact with anyone (unless it's morning snuggles) until I've finished my first cup of coffee.

This morning Elsa wandered into our room a little before 6am.

I still wasn't ready to get up, we'd had a late night the night before.

So I let her do whatever keeps her busy...

She played on my cell phone.

She went potty.

After I came out of the fog a bit she asked me,

"Can you hand me that?"

She was snuggled next to me and referring to a tube of hand lotion I had on the windowsill over my head.

(If you must know, I try to put hand lotion on once I'm in bed each night-my hands are always so dry.)

Since it was an odd requested I asked her why.

Her response, was typical Elsa-matter-of-fact,

"Cause I went potty but couldn't reach the toilet paper,

so I just used my hand."

I replayed the noises I heard this morning as she was rattling around and I was trying to wake up.

Running water was NOT one noise I recalled,

so I asked "Did you wash your hands?"

Her response was in the "duh" tone of voice,

"I didn't want to wake the kids up."

As in, you know better than that mom!

Gross.

I'll admit, I did stare at those baby hands, still round with baby fat on them.

And they were a bit less sweet to me knowing where they'd just been.

Yes, I did tell her to go wash- NOW.

And yes, my sheets are in the wash on EXTRA HOT

and MAXIMUM BLEACH.

"... I just used my hand."

GROSS!!!

She Keeps Me On My Toes

Just when you think that you know a kid...

I was getting used to the crazy pony-tail, boy undies, sweats, and t-shirts.

I was well trained in telling her she looked awesome instead of pretty,

I was rolling with it.

Then we got her hair cut,

trimmed the chlorine damaged ends,

and picked out a nice outfit for class picture day.

I think it may have been a turning of the tide.

She certainly still has a strong sense of what she likes and doesn't like.  But she loved this outfit.  I may have to return to Old Navy for more of those denim Capri's (in other colors...).

Still rocking the cute little ponies and in her other Elsa-style shirt.

Then came Easter and she loved her Anna doll (EVERYWHERE is sold out of Elsa dolls...)

She even tried on the Anna dress that came with the doll.

But we couldn't take her picture in it...

Then came Easter, she wore a matching dress with her sister.

Yes, I said "Bull*$#@" to get them all to smile.  But shhh don't tell...

Shooting some bows and arrows.

Waiting for "Go!" at the Easter egg hunt.

And then yesterday she picked this out at Costco.

I couldn't say no even though I should have.  She even slept in it!

I love that she follows her own agenda.

That she has her own idea of what she likes.

That she's not afraid to be herself.

I love this little one for who she is,

and she's one special little girl.

And don't worry, under the girl clothes she's been wearing (picture day she informed me that was the first time she wore girl clothes to Griffin)

she's still rocking the tightie-whities.

Boy undies don't "scrunch up your bottom" like the girl ones do.

Isn't it so fun to see who your little people turn into?

I'm one lucky mama.

Spring is in the air

Spring.

It's such a lovely season.

Torrential rains bring the most beautiful landscape on earth.

In Olympia we get to see the Olympics jagged and breathtaking covered in white

Mt. Rainier majestic in the distance.

We have the most lovely fluffy cherry blossoms everywhere you look.

And more greens than you could fathom, different shades everywhere you look, glowing in the sunlight, dark in the woods.

Spring also brings sports.

This is the first season that we have 4 kids on 4 different teams.

Mark is coaching one and assisting two baseball teams.

Sarina is in her third season of volleyball.

It's an insanely, wonderfully busy time of year.

Elsa is playing her first season of baseball.  She was so excited for her first game she pulled on that uniform before even coming downstairs, just as soon as she woke up.

Charlie is in his third season of baseball.  He plays with his pre-school buddies and this year is big boy ball- no coaches in the field, 3 outs in the inning, and a pitching machine.  He played catcher in his first game of the season and was on it!  It's going to be fun to watch him out there catching.  Mark said he's a natural.  I need to get a picture of him in his uniform...

Carl has moved up.  They're stealing bases, wearing cups, and all around big kids now.  I just about fell over the other day when he came skidding down the stairs ready to pull on his pants that I had to weave the belt through.  He had his special black baseball socks pulled up- over half-way up his thighs, and his special undies that hold the cup.  It was quite a look...

He's been playing first and third and pitching when he can.  I have to say I'm a tense wreck watching him pitch.  He's so little it's amazing to me that he can hurl a ball that far with pretty awesome accuracy.  And when playing third he fielded a ball perfectly-firing it to first then catching the return to get a second out (which we all think he got but the ump called the kid safe).

Sarina is loving volleyball.  She wanted to play at the YMCA so she had the fundamentals down for her first season on the school team next year.  It's fun to watch her walking around with her volleyball under her arm muttering "bump" "set" "spike!"

Our days are FULL.

But our kids are happy,

engaged,

and healthy.

I don't think we could ask for one single thing more.

Remembering Dad

April 12th would have been my dad's 68th birthday.

I'm often curious what it would be like to have him still with us- healthy and whole.

I know he'd enrich our lives even more than they already are.

He'd be counting the time until each and every sporting event,

marveling over and over at each kid's unique characteristics

the grey in my hair,

the number of grandchildren,

how busy we all are.

Even though he's not with us, he has still taught my children such a valuable lesson.

That there is a heaven.

That he's watching over us.

That he held the babies he didn't get to meet on earth, while they were still with him in heaven.

That we need to be sure to live a good life so that we can join him one day.

To celebrate dad's birthday we went to Priest Point Park where some of his ashes have been spread.

Melissa started the tradition and I'll admit I haven't been good about participating.

She's been ever faithful about it.

I've been sporadic.

As I drove to the park I was flipping through the radio stations and stopped on one that played song after song that I remember him listening to.  Cat Stevens (until he realized that Cat was supporting the PLO) and Elton John.

It was a beautiful, sunny spring day

with blue sky,

the mountains still covered in snow bright on the horizon,

cherry trees in bloom.

Melissa picked up his coffee (quad Americano made adding coffee instead of water)  from the Filling Station.

That was his morning routine.

Every morning they were open he'd drive himself there in this Isuzu Rodeo packed to the gills with his latest (or just buried) treasure, sprinkled with mail and change.

He'd hand over his gigantic white (at least on the outside) Starbucks mug for the girls to fill for him- just the way he liked-

bursting with the maximum caffeine possible.

They don't have drip coffee any longer (I'm sure they would if he were still around-just for him).

We took the kids and went down on the beach to anoint it with his special drink.

It was low tide just as it was the day we spread his ashes (quickly so the other visitors to the beach didn't realize what we were doing...)

Each of us took turns pouring out some for him.

I have no doubt dad laughed hard watching this happen.

Why oh why would that be the way she poured it?!

Then the kids played in the "cave" created by the root system of a fallen madrona tree.  Probably not the safest place to play- it didn't last too long.

Happy belated birthday dad.  I know you know how much we still love you

and think about you.

And I know you were with us that day (as always).