Bringing Baby Home

The Power of Four & Feliz Ano

2012-01-15T13:53:00.000-08:00

The Power of Four

Four Kids

Four Months

Four Grades to Homeschool

Four Countries in Central America

Four Islands off of Cuba

Four Thousand Nautical Miles

Four ty-two Foot Catamaran called Balance

Four State Rooms

Four Weeks Before We Leave

Four the Love of Peanut Butter. Are We Insane?

Four Sure

Four-tunately I'll be blogging the whole "nauti" mess.

Four your viewing enjoyment, here are some pics from our Navidad, which we spent soaking up the sun in Sayulita.

Evie at Lancha and a proud papa.

She got a bee sting for her 9th birthday on Christmas Eve.

The Barefoot House was so cozy on Christmas.

A Christmas Fiesta at our house. The kids celebrated with ginormous Mexican sparklers.

How festive is this latte? Happiness in a mug.

Soli's not too big on surfing, but she's serious about her beach fashion.

A sunset hacky sack circle after surfing at Lancha.

Cole morphed into a merkid while we were there.

Dave owning the "Left" on the paddle board.

Cole & Em "sharing" a sweet ride.

I was so proud of Em for catching this sweet wave on Cole's short board.

My beautiful sun kissed princess.

I was so please to see the hibiscus blooming in our jardin.

Feliz Ano to you and yours!

Stay tuned four all the gory details...

Fall

2011-11-03T10:14:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you a little something about myself. And I'm not proud. I may need medication. Or an intervention.

Every year in August the kids go back to school. Like clockwork. And sometime shortly thereafter I go to "Back to School Night". This year I went to four "Back to School Nights". And I, like clockwork, feeling delightfully rejuvenated and full of myself after a nice sunny summer, was ready to conquer the world.
Halloween Party? Sign me up.
The kindergarten Harvest Festival? Sure, I'll do that. Sounds fun.
Yearbook? Why not? - I already take a million pictures.
Volunteer in the classrooms? Yes.
Help with the Golf Tournament. You bet.
You need an Airband Chair Person? I can do that.
Team mom? Yes.
Brownie leader? Of course.
Anything else? Oh, yeah. This year I thought it would be fun to teach the fifth graders Spanish. (I don't even have a fifth grader.) You know what? Throw in the fourth graders, too. (I don't even have a fourth grader.)
And, then like clockwork right about this time of year, every year, it all starts falling apart and I start sprouting new gray hairs as I realize I can't be in two places at once. Or three. Like the Third Grade Halloween party and the Kindergarten Harvest Festival and taking pictures of the Halloween parade for yearbook.
When will I learn? But now you know what I've been doing instead of Blogging.

But I will tell you this. Our urban farm has reached a new "egg"cellent level of existence.

I'm so pleased. Happy Fall.

And here are a few more pics just because I love you and who knows when I'll be sitting here again...

We went to a beach wedding.

Took the kids to Disneyland. Name that ride.

I'm pretty sure I had those exact sunglasses when I was his age. Loved 'em.

We grew this singular, darling fig on the fig tree we planted last spring on our "farm". (Disclaimer: the fig was already on the tree when we bought it so I don't know if we can really take credit for "growing" it. But we did ripen it. And it was yummy.

Look at my "tough as nails" 8 year old daughter going head to head with a big ol' 7th grade boy!

You wanna know where she gets her toughness? I'll give you one guess...

Ahh. How sweet is he? He gets that from his dad. Thank goodness.

Another one from "Team Mom". Feisty as they make 'em. But such a great kid. (Warning: I'm about to brag. Feel free to avert your eyes.) He got almost straight A's on his first report card in high school including 3 A+'s (P.E., Geometry, & Biology). We won't talk about that B- in English.

Another one from the Happiest Place on Earth. Name that location...

And to round out the family - another one for "Team Dad" so sweet and gentle (usually). How cute is she at the Harvest Festival?

Now I'm really going. Hugs, H

Wistful

2011-08-14T12:15:00.000-07:00

Don't I look wistful in this picture? That's because it was taken at Cole's 8th grade graduation. (By my girlfriend with her mega zoom from across the gym. Thanks, Erin. It's a lovely picture. Poignant with a hint of sparkle.)

Isn't he so adorable? (And, don't you love Dave's fu-man-chu? I knew I married an outlaw...)

I had barely recovered from that momentous event when BOOM just last Wednesday he started H.I.G.H.S.C.H.O.O.L. And he is quite possibly the most adorable freshman I've ever seen. (He looks JUST like Dave in high school in this picture.)

  And, I really thought I was prepared. I read the books. Got the skinny on teachers and programs. Sent emails. Made inquiries. Requested teachers. Went to the principal's coffee. Did my due diligence. And, when other moms were lamenting over the loss of their "babies" I was secretly rejoicing that my "babies" were no longer such babies. Hallelujah. I was excited to walk this next chapter (that I had been so fond of in my own life) with my son who will CLEARLY eat up the entire high school experience. Let me give an example. The Friday before school started, he and I spent the better part of the day at the high school picking up his class schedule, books, student i.d., P.E. clothes, etc. Lots of waiting in lines. When we got to the front of the student i.d. line the adorable, juniorish girl manning that station asked him what year he was. Without skipping a beat he lifted an eyebrow, cocked his head to one side, folded his arms across his chest, peaked at her from above the rims of his super cool aviators, and said in a voice more befitting a man than a 14 year old boy, "JUNIOR.....No. SOPHOMORE........No. FRESHMAN." My chin hit the floor, but she was smitten. She peered up at him, twinkle in her eye, smiling ear to ear and said, "You COULD be a junior. What's your name, Freshman?" As I gathered my chin off the ground and glance up at my man-child I was somewhat stunned to see the cocky confidence that permeated the very air around him. And I dare say I was proud. Because let's be honest. That's exactly what you need to be successful in high school -- a healthy dose of cocky confidence.

But here's where the story turns south. At least for me. He went to the "back to school" dance on Friday night. It was called the "Freshman Mixer". Which, p.s., I didn't really like that name. It sounded too much like a "Singles Mixer" or something. Anyway, the idea was that the "LINK CREW" (primarily junior and senior kids whose job it is to assimilate the freshmen into high school) were tasked to dance with as many of the freshmen as possible. You know, "make them feel comfortable"; "show them the ropes". Seemed like a nice idea. Although, this is what my freshman boy-in-a-man's-body had to say when he got home, and I quote, "Oh my god. I had the best time ever. Senior girls in short shorts and tank tops 'grinding all up on my junk.' " end quote.

I'll just pause here to let that sink in.

Observations:

1) How great that our kid is still willing to share all of the gory details of his life with us.

2) WTH - Were there no CHAPERONES? If there were, is this permissible behavior at the high school level? If so, I may need to consider homeschooling....again.

3) I'm seething mad. I do not want my kid's "junk" involved in any school time activities, Thankyouverymuch. Call me old fashioned.

4) I'm surprised to realize that I've become one of "those" parents. You know the ones like Dr. and Mrs. Houseman (Baby's parents) from Dirty Dancing. Or Reverand Shaw Moore (Ariel's dad) from Footloose. I remember thinking when I saw those movies as a teenager that those parents were so totally out of touch with their teenage kids. I specifically thought to myself, "When I'm a parent of teenagers I will not allow myself to be so out of touch with what's going on and what's 'normal' with the teenage crowd. And yet, here I am. Completely out of touch and totally appalled by this behavior. I'm calling Shaw Moore.

5) Who is looking out for these girls and their self respect? This "grinding" seems largely degrading to girls and women. Again, where are the chaperones? Who is the teacher advisor to this "Link Crew"?

6) Dave says, "It's no big deal. This is all part of growing up. At least he's talking to us about what's going on." Yes, that's true. Am I overreacting?

7) The good news: Cole told us that there was one girl that caught his eye.
   Me: "Was she a senior?" (gulp)
   Cole: "No, she's a freshman, and she's in my G.A.T.E English class." (Thank God.)
   Me: "Did you dance with her?" (gulp, gulp)
   Cole: "No. I didn't want to dance with her like that." (Thank God.)
So at least our moral teachings haven't past him by. Hallelujah. But it's still irritating to feel like the school is working against us as we try to impart on our son the importance of getting through high school without engaging in nonsense. (Read: without having sex -- or doing drugs.)

8) I'd like to send an email to the principal, but I hate to start off my high school career (yes, mine - I'll be in high school for the next 12 years. Sigh.) with a big honkin' issue like this.

9) Please advise, my dear, brilliant colleagues in parenting. What to do? How to handle?

One of "those" parents,
Mrs. S

An Urban Farm Update and Summer Snapshots

2011-08-07T12:48:00.000-07:00

My little Urban Farm is thriving beautifully. The zucchini is delicious, the broccoli was beautiful (until it was overrun with aphids), the tomatoes are ripening, the celery was totally bitter but looked great, the artichokes are small but tasty, the olallieberries were bountiful (everyone will be getting jam again for Christmas. Felicidades.), we have ONE fig on our tiny little fig tree, and the chickies are full grown and have made the transition from dining room to backyard. Thank God. Jett and Zona love their little chickie brood and can often be seen rubbing noses and licking their little feathered friends in greeting. It's rather darling. We found a local chicken coop builder and bought the CUTEST coop made from all reclaimed materials. I would like him to build me a house just like it. And Dave enclosed the bottom section of the kids' play structure (you know where the sand is supposed to go but really it's just dirt) with chicken wire and a gate so we have an enclosed chicken run. Our white silkie turned out to be a rooster and here's the story on that.

One night I was having trouble sleeping; tossing and turning well past midnight. Emerson, who had recently watched a very scary movie thanks to his brother, was back and forth between our bed and his terrifying room of shadows and "scary noises". I'd finally had it up to "here" with the nonsense and sent him to sleep with his sisters. Not long after, still lying awake in my bed, I heard a blood curdling shriek coming from the general vicinity of the girls' room. It was a horrible, horrifying sound of the likes I had never heard. I shook Dave awake and said, "Honey, I just heard a terrible noise." Naturally, he responded, "Well, you better go check it out." Let's take a quick time out here. Dave is an amazing husband and father. He provides for our family perfectly. But, when it comes to any nighttime occurrence, I'm on my own. It all started when we had babies and due to his general lack of boobs he was deemed rather useless when it came to the nighttime activity of nursing babies back to sleep. He quickly learned to tune out all nighttime noises. He makes no apologies for this, and I've come to respect it about him. At least one of us will be well rested in the morning. Besides if there really is something threatening my kids in the middle of the night then I'm the mama bear for the job. An intruder would stand nary a chance against me protecting my kids in the middle of the night. I'm a frightening (and impressive) force if my kids are threatened. So I jumped out of bed feeling badly for berating Emerson for his fears because clearly we did have a demon in our house. Who knew? I ran through the dark house to the girls' room, shouting in a whisper, "EMERSON?" Straight to the bed that he was sharing with Soli only to find two peacefully spooning angels. Evie snored softly in the upper bunk. Again, the shrieking. This time coming from behind me. In the kitchen? I turned on all the lights as I moved cautiously through the kitchen to the dining room. I stood quietly in the doorway, waiting. And then again the terrible noise. It sounded like a child crying out during a night terror. Or a baby goat bleating. Have you heard that sound? Creepy. Think Silence of the Lambs. But then I saw him. In the dog crate that had come to house our brood of chicks. Back lit by the heat lamp in the corner of the dining room. Standing as tall as could on his fluffy feathered feet. Our white silkie.....rooster! And I couldn't help but laugh right out loud as he puffed up his feathery chest and lifted his scrawny little chicken wings and let it rip. The most ridiculous (and terrifying) cock-a-doodle I'd ever heard.

The next day, Dave stumbled across a Craigslist Ad. "Wanted: A Silkie Rooster". We saw it as a sign from the Patron Saint of Urban Farms. So we called the number and after I was thoroughly satisfied that our little Peck-a-Choo wouldn't be used for any Devil Worshipping, Barb-e-quing, or Cock Fighting activities (people must think I'm crazy) we struck a deal. And as sad as we were to part with our little white silkie he is now happily cock-a-doodling on a real life Rural Farm. And the farm mistress promised us a couple of his chicks in the future. The End.

And here are some of my favorite summer snapshots.

We took Emerson and pals paint balling in June for Em's 11th.

I thought this rock in Montana looked like a badger.

Cole the fire master lighting all the kids' sparklers on the 4th of July in Montana.

Cole getting up close and personal (to my dismay) with an elk in Yellowstone.

Dave and I celebrated 15 years of marriage in July.

Rocky Mountain 4th of July.

We took the kids to Montana for two weeks in July. Here we are waiting for the parade down the main street in Ennis.

In front of Gibbon Falls in Yellowstone. Cole was having time out up the trail.

Painted ponies in Montana.

Cole and Soli in front of the Madison river.

Ahhh. Summer.

Evie, fly fishing, and a full moon in front of the Fishing Shack in Montana.

We opted to take a "short cut" on the way home from Montana. 120 miles of dirt roads (and small creeks we had to drive through). We didn't see a single other vehicle for 3 hours. I wasn't sure if we'd make it out alive. Thankfully, we had a full tank of gas and a reliable vehicle. Pesky iphones and their navigation apps.

Houseboating and "wake surfing" with the cousins.

Family reunion 2011. That's me in the purple with my parents and five younger siblings.

I hope you've all had a lovely summer. Ours is almost up. Cole starts his first day of high school on Wednesday. Go Cowboys!

I'm In Love with a Chick

2011-04-30T00:08:00.000-07:00

Here's Cole with his choice - a Speckled Sussex.

We're having way too much fun with our new baby chicks.

Emerson went with a Sussex, too.

Mommy and Soli lovin' on a little Dominique.

Evie chose a white Silkie.

Soli and her black Silkie.

Silkies grow up to be super fluffy with feathers on their feet. And they're a bantam breed which means they'll be smaller.

I let the kids choose from breeds that are known for being good pets and are known for being quiet. This is a Speckled Sussex and she'll grow to be a normal size hen. This breed is also known for being good "layers".

We ended up with 2 Speckled Sussexes, 2 black Silkies (like this one) and 1 white Silkie. Because the Silkies are a Bantam breed they can't be sexed. So we may end up with a rooster (or two or three) which we'll have to find a new home for. Against HOA's. It is an URBAN Farm after all.

Here are the girls making use of their doll slings from Guatemala. I'll give you one guess as to what they're carrying around.

On my Urban Farm all pets are required to get along. Here's Zona meeting the Sussex twins. Do you see the other one nestled under her chest? So stinkin' cute. And she didn't even try to eat them.

Jett, on the other hand, was licking his chops immediately. See his tongue and how Dave is keeping his hand between it and the chickie? He'll be so busted if he eats one of my chickies. Forget that whole "Circle of Life" thing.

Soli and I enjoying our sunny farm. You can't really see them, but my little brood is cozied in behind my back.

We've been taking our babes out to the garden to let them scratch amongst the veggies. They're completely contained in the raised bed and they are so stinkin' cute pecking around for....I don't really know what they're pecking for. We have to keep them in a box with a heat lamp in the kitchen until they are a couple months old. So it's fun to get them out of their box and into the sunshine. Hopefully the dogs will be used to them by the time they are ready for the coop and to be "backyard chickens".

And here's our newest addition to the family. We should have named him Rowdy. Or Naughty.

And it's a good thing he's so cute because he is Trouble with a capital T.

Here he is "herding" Soli. It's hard to tell from the picture, but he's actually moving her with his body. He is a cattle dog after all.

Urban Farm

2011-04-25T13:04:00.000-07:00

Dave thinks I could be going through a mid-life crisis. He said to me the other day as I was unloading the third fruit tree from the back of my car, "Maybe you should think about what void you're trying to fill with all of this." He may be on to something. Or it could have something to do with my oldest starting high school and my youngest starting kindergarten this year. (I'm not sure exactly what about that makes me lay awake at night -- the fact that they're growing up so fast or the fact that I'm raising an adult and a baby in the same household.) Or it could simply be that I want an urban farm in my tiny backyard complete with a cattle dog and chickens and blueberries and beets growing in the garden and maybe a goat. Or maybe it's a combination of all of those things. And because my husband loves me so much and because a farm is a much better choice than a Lamborgini or a new baby (I really don't want a new baby -- just to be clear. A Lamborgini could be fun...) he's given me a tentative yellow light. So naturally I'm pedal to the metal, full steam ahead on my urban farm.

Here's the progress:

*We picked up the cattle dog at the shelter a few months ago. His name's Jett. We don't have cows so he herds the kids...and Zona. Maybe he'll learn to herd chickens...if he doesn't eat them. But, hey, that's farm life, right?

*The girls and I put the vegetable garden in this past week. We planted zucchini, basil, beans, peas, two heirloom tomatoes, a serrano pepper (I had one in Mexico last year), carrots, beets, strawberries, green onions, and something else that I forget.

*I planted a fig tree and the apple tree is ready to be planted (the exact location is still under advisement). The blueberries are fruiting, the olallieberries are blooming, and the avocado tree is burried in beautiful shiny green fruit.

*And we're planning to go today to pick out our baby chicks.

Stay tuned...

Sayulita

2011-04-19T11:10:00.000-07:00

I know it's been about a hundred years since I updated my blog. To my utmost surprise, people are kind of upset about it! I'm receiving hate mail! Just kidding. It's more like stink mail..."When are you gonna update your blog?? It's been like 3 months!" I'm always surprised to hear that anyone reads my blog aside from Dave (And me. I have to admit I love to read my own blog. It can be a problem.) Anyway, here's an update:

Dave and I recently got back from a week in Sayulita...sans kids!! It was a first for us. We've left them over night; even two (maybe 3) nights. But never for a week. It was heaven. I only missed them a little (and really that's being generous). Does that mean I'm out of the running for "Mom of the Year"? Well, maybe it'll improve my standing in "Wife of the Year". Either way, it was lovely.

Since we didn't have our kids with us, I was forced to take pictures of trees...

...and beers...

...and cars...

...and fishermen...

...and flowers...

...and this little plane flying over the Sayulita surf...

...and other people's sun kissed babes...

...and other people's kids gettin' tubular at the Left. You rocked that wave, Rory!!

This is a bad picture of us, but it's the only one I got of the two of us!

Of course, I still got lots of pics of Dave surfing the Left.

We had an awesome time and were amazingly efficient with our week. Dave installed a sweet solar system at the Barefoot House (the meters are turning backwards!) and we were able to get his FM3 renewed in record time - phew! It was a great trip. And thanks to Aunt Hannie and the Miami Grandparents the kids had a great time, too!

'Twas Two Weeks After Christmas...

2011-01-11T14:15:00.000-08:00

'Twas two weeks after Christmas when all through the house,
Not a twinkled light twinkled to the joy of my spouse.
The stockings were nestled all back in their crates
Along with the snow globes and fancy red plates.

The ham, long since finished, the soup from it, too.
The yams were delicious, but those days are through.
The fire'd gone cold, having not one more log.
And the fridge, it was suddenly void of egg nog.

The paper 'twas crinkled and thrown in the trash.
The bows, piled high then jumped on to smash.
A plain silver tack was all that remained
In the spot 'twhere the mistletoe used to be hanged.

The poinsettia was dropping one leaf at a time.
It's depressing to see it as bare as a vine.
So to the back porch that plant had to go,
In hopes that no neighbor would see it like so.

The tree, it was gone, and the ornaments, too.
The needles were brown, not much I could do.
With one kid in tears it was dragged to the curb,
"To cut down a tree for a month is absurd!"

The children were sent back to school on Tuesday,

The toys, long forgotten. The bill, on it's way.

Their rooms are still messy with nowhere to sit

With all those new toys, like that model car kit.

My house now feels empty and quiet and cold.
"You should be happy." To myself, I am told.
But, alas, I'm all misty and just have to say
A year 'til next Christmas seems a long way away.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly of This Year's Resolutions

2011-01-07T11:33:00.000-08:00

I rather dislike New Year's Resolutions.

It's simply another way for me to feel badly about my lack of accomplishment. (Yeah, whatever. I know I have four kids. You know what I mean.)

Having said that, here's my "If-I-never-had-to-sleep-or-tend-to-the-needs-of-my-four-children-or-those-of-my-darling-husband" list of New Year's Resolutions: (note the implied disclaimer)

*update blog more often
*re-do kids' rooms
*lose 15 pounds ("And this time, I'll keep it off!" - name that movie)
*play with kids more
*"play"with husband more - need I elaborate?
*plant beets in my garden this year
*find the courage to get a lumineer on my front tooth, which is dead and discolored and makes me not want to smile : (
*finish my 2009 (no, that's not a typo) scrapbook before 2012
*improve photography skills - maybe even take a c-c-c-c-class. In my spare time, of course.
*learn how to upload more easily said photos onto blog-- is it just me, or did this recently get harder? Anyone?
*put more energy into dinners
*make more friends (are there really ever enough?)
*pay more attention to Emerson - he's so his father's son...
*improve laundry "system" (read - fold it before it becomes Mt. Laundrymore and swallows a small child). P.S. I hate this one. It's on my list every year. Often, it's the ONLY thing on my list of stupid Resolutions. I've said it before - if I wasn't so irreplaceable I would fire myself.
*Lastly, figure out what the heck to do with myself before my youngest starts kindergarten in the fall (note to self: see above list.)

That was fun.

Now I'm going back to bed.

Wake me when it's over.

Oh wait, I just thought of one more thing for my list:

*find happiness in everything I do - even irritating things like stupid lists of New Year's Resolutions.

Good night.

Thankful...

2010-12-09T09:51:00.000-08:00

...for sun kissed skin and knees with band-aids.

And for this girl who adopted us 4 years ago today. Happy Gotcha Day, Princess Peanut Butter Cup!

...for polyester bell bottoms from Good Will.
And kids who are brave enough to wear them on stage for Airband and rock Stayin' Alive.
(Check out the YouTube video HERE. They won first place. We're so proud. )

...for a fall sport other than football and soccer.

And this second son; so much like his dad.

...for wigs.
And the kid with the mullet who's as tall as me.

...for hair scrunchies that match their soccer uniforms.
And this girl; my very best soccer player.

...for this Stewart Marine shirt that used to be Dave's.
And these grandparents who drop everything to come play with us.

...for waterpolo.
And this hotty who, at 41, still rocks the Speedo.

...for neighbors who take great pics of my kids.

And toothless grins.

...for this awesome catch. (Click to make bigger.)

And a football season with no broken bones.

...for roadside Taquerias.
And a lunch date with this Grandpa.

...for a strawberry, an Alice, an Earp, and a bling.

And for these kids; still excited to dress up on Halloween.

...for da Bulls and da Broncos.

Can't we all just get along?

...for six weeks in Mexico.

And coronas with lime.
(We'll be home for Christmas.)

...for kid sized waves at Lancha.
And this surfer girl.

...for the sweet silence of the sea.
And this boy; he makes my heart smile.

...for the splendor of our Earth.

And sharing it with magnificent creatures like this.

...for sting rays whose stings hurt like a mother but don't do any permanent damage.

And this boy who taught us that; the hard way.

...for the Christmas picture; done for another year.

And for another year with this amazing family of mine.

Feliz Navidad,

Dave & Heather

Cole, Emerson, Eve & Soleil

Arizona Vs. The Stupid Smelly Bus*

2010-10-03T12:45:00.000-07:00

First, let me say, I love the fall!! I love it! I love sweaters, and golden leaves, and tree ripened apples, and pumpkins and dressing up! I love to dress up! Maybe more than my kids do.

But this is a post about our doggie Arizona and how she hates that stupid smelly school bus. (*Evie and I just read Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus.)

You may remember that Arizona (we call her Zona for short) came to us two summers ago when we were on vacation in Arizona. She just showed up in the yard of the house we rented. She wouldn't let anyone approach her and she was obviously exhausted (like she'd been wandering for days). She just slept in the shade of the mesquite bushes getting up and moving to another shady patch whenever anyone tried to bring her water (it was like 118 degrees - do you remember that heat wave and that crazy monsoon that blew through Scottsdale in late July 2009, Karen and Steph?). Anyway, long after everyone else had given up on her, Cole finally won over her affections with a combination of undying patience and a package of hot dogs. From then on she has been his shadow. It's quite possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. She does not leave his side. She sleeps next to his bed, she follows him everywhere (including the bathroom) and pretty much only tends to her own needs (ie; eating, pottying, etc.) when he is asleep or at school. And she's extremely protective of him. When he and Dave play "rowdy" she prances about them barking and complaining as she moults under the stress of it all. It's reminds me of Lassie - a boy and his dog. And he eats it up. He loves her undying loyalty and adoration. She's his favorite thing in the world. Of course, that will all change once girlfriends show up on the scene, but until then...

With back to school entirely upon us I am reminded of a story that I thought worthy of sharing. It actually happened late last spring when we first got back from Mexico and the kids went back to school.

Cole rides the bus to the middle school every day. The bus stops almost directly across the street from our house which is very convenient... usually. This one particular day started out normally. The bus putted to a stop across the street, and we all sounded the usual alarm, "BUS!" Cole bounded from the bathroom smelling of Hollister cologne, grabbed his backpack and planted a kiss on my cheek as I opened the front door for him to run out. Being that I was a little rusty on my back to school routine, I was half a second too late in shutting the door, allowing a small window of opportunity for Zona to scamper out the door after him. He was nearly to the bus when she caught up to him. He turned around to bring her back to the house, but the bus driver was waiting so I said, "Go get on the bus. I'll get her." (In hind sight, a critical mistake on my part.) So he turned and ran to get on the bus as I called for Zona to "COME!" in my best "Imeanbusiness" voice. Only she doesn't listen to me because I'm not her boy. She looked at me for a second but then turned to follow Cole. Finding the door to the bus already closed (I swear she would have jumped on that bus after him) she circled around the front trying to find another way in. Panicked that the bus driver didn't see her and would run her over I ran out into the street screaming and hollering to the bus driver not to drive away. I was a sight to behold, let me tell you: still in my pj's, with monster bed head flapping behind me as I ran across the street in my bare feet, waving my right arm over my head while holding my boobs with my left so they didn't bounce right out of my top, and screaming, "Stop! Stop! Don't go!" (note to self: buy pj's with built in boob support). Did I mention this was the bus to the middle school? Filled with middle schoolers? Oh, the horror. Zona took one look at me and decided there must be one heck of an emergency and that it was up to her to take drastic measures to ensure that the stupid smelly bus did not take her beloved boy away. She circled around the front of the bus once more and then tummy crawled right underneath the beast and lay down with a look in her eye that clearly said to me, "Over my dead body!" By now I had reached the bus and, still holding my boobs, I stretched up with my free hand and knocked loudly on the driver's window, screaming "Don't go! Don't go! There's a dog under your bus!!" Ok, let's take a break here to discuss those stop signs that pop out from the side of the bus to stop traffic so kids can cross the street safely. You know the ones? Yeah, well during this entire fiasco the stop sign was out. There was now traffic stopped in both directions bearing witness to, what quite possible amounts to, the most embarrassing moments of my life. Did I mention how cute I looked? I looked even cuter crawling halfway under the bus on my knees and one free hand (remember the other was busy consoling the twins) trying to reach Zona's collar, to no avail. I finally gave up, crawled out, and hollered for Cole to get off the bus and come get his dog. He did just that and as I waddled awkwardly back to the house, boobs in one hand, dog collar in the other, I just hoped that my bedhead would hide the crimson shade of my cheeks.

Recently, I met a gal whose child is in Emerson's class, and as I introduced myself she said, "Oh! We've never met, but I know you! Yeah, I was stuck in traffic one morning on the way to school, and you were crawling under the bus to get your dog!"

Awesome. That was me. Nice to meet you.

Random Back to School News

2010-08-21T00:18:00.000-07:00

*The kids went back to school last week. Bittersweet.

*Dave is going to Sayulita for a guys only surf trip to celebrate his birthday. And missing all the back to school F.U.N. Povrecito.

*Evie got a soft a-line haircut...and bangs. And she recently informed me that she is "totally over" all things pink, including her room.

*We adopted a new cat from the shelter. He's four. His name is Jasper. He's all black. We picked him up on Friday the 13th. We think that means he's extra lucky. Although he pooped under my bed tonight.

Now we think he's an extra lucky "outside" cat.

*Soleil visited our school district's speech therapist today. She doesn't need speech therapy. That's good -- like we need one more activity on the calender. She'll be starting preschool next week.

*Cole got the "star" jersey for most improved at football practice yesterday. And, as I type this, he's "chatting on line with babes all day". (Name that movie).

*I splurged on, not one, but two Yankee candles the other day to try and fill the void created by sending the kids back to school. And you know something? It nearly did the job. And now I'm feeling the urge to paint something. You know, like a wall.

*Emerson is single handedly bringing the "mullet" back into style.* I'm so proud. And his STAR test results were smashing even though we spent most of the school year in Mexico.

*Hope your back to school is as delightful as mine. Salud.

*Emerson's mullet was a temporary fashion statement as you can see from the above pic of the first day of school. Stinkin' funny while it lasted, though. He kept cruisin' around the house saying, "I'm all jacked up on Mountain Dew!" (Bonus points if you can name THAT movie.)

You Owe Me Santa

2010-08-06T09:35:00.000-07:00

Dave and I agreed early in our parenting journey that we would not lie to our kids regarding Santa. Since our kids were small we've approached the topic of Santa in the same manner that we've approached the topic of sex. Honestly. Without spoiling the fun. For example:

Q: Where do babies come from?
A: Well, when Mommies and Daddies make love sometimes they make a baby.

I love this answer. It's completely honest without giving out too many details. And it spans the ages, growing in relevance as the kids grow in age. The four year old is usually completely satisfied, having no idea what making love means but pleased with the "adultness" of the answer. The seven year old is mostly satisfied (although she suspects there is more to the story) knowing that "making love" involves lots of kissing. The ten year old blushes as he has recently learned some of the gory details. And the thirteen year old....well: "Mom, do you have to call it 'making love'"?

But this post is not about talking to kids about sex; it's about Santa. And how my darling, precocious, seven year old daughter finally busted my Santa "clause".

I never had to tell my boys there was no Santa. Eventually, they just understood. And it all happened in a beautiful, natural process that allowed them to enjoy the magic of Santa without feeling like they were lied to about the whole thing. Here is how it went down.

Q: Is Santa real?
A: Santa is real in the magical story of St. Nicholas and the generous giving that people do at Christmas time.

Again, this answer is truthful without spoiling the fun. In our family, as long as the kids don't understand all of those big words they are allowed to live in the blissful ignorance that is required to believe that Santa could be real. The younger kids are usually satisfied with this answer because all they hear is, "Santa is real blah, blah, blah...". As they get older and can more completely understand the meaning of my words, they get the idea. It all happens very naturally and timely based on their own ability (and willingness) to fully understand the answer. Not to say that they sometimes didn't push the topic:

Q: But how does he fit down the chimney?
A: Well, remember, it's a magical story. And just like all magical stories things happen that don't always happen in real life.
Q: Like Aladdin's magic carpet?
A:Yes.
Q: Do you believe in Santa?
A: I believe that the magic of St. Nicholas comes to life every time we give a gift at Christmas time.

Do you see where I'm going with this? I like to think this is an honest answer without being Scroogelike and spoiling the magic. If the kids are young enough or if they still want to "believe" they can. If they are old enough or they are looking for the "truth" they can find it. But I'm not throwin' Santa under the bus. Now, I know my in-laws wish I would quit with the word games and just say it like it is. So they'll be glad to hear that their granddaughter, through stubborn determination and a concerning willingness to see me squirm in my seat, forced me to do just that.

Background:

Evie has been asking me about the validity of Santa for about a year and a half now. Maybe more. At least two Christmases. She's seven. She was born on Christmas Eve. So for the past year and a half I have done my very best to side step her questions, knowing that eventually she would get old enough to answer her own questions or at least read between the lines of mine. Alas, this was not to be, and poor old Santa -- he's under the bus.

The other day in the car:

Eve: Mom, it's just the two of us. You have to tell me the truth about Santa.
Me: Well....
Eve: And don't say that thing you always say about people giving gifts or whatever. I want the truth!
Me: Santa exists in the magical story of St. Ni....
Eve: No, Mom! I want a yes or a no. Is Santa real? Yes or no.
Me: Well, I believe Santa is real whenever we give generously...
Eve: Mom! That's not a yes or a no! I mean it doesn't make sense! There's no way one man could deliver toys to every kid in the whole world in one night. It's impossible!
Me: Well, it sounds like you've got it figured out then. You can answer your own questions.
Eve: And reindeer can't fly!
Me: You're right. They can't.
Eve: So then he's not real.
Me: You tell me.
Eve: No, mom. You tell me. Is Santa real? Yes or no. That's all. Just yes or no.
Me: (Silence) I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you about Santa if you promise to always tell me about what's going on with you. Like about boys or friends or what's going on at school. Okay?
Eve: Okay, fine. I have a crush on Aidan and I already told you about Carver. (She had recently told us that a little boy had kissed her when we were in Mexico). Okay, Mom. I gave you Carver now you owe me Santa. You OWE me! Is Santa real? Yes or no.
Me: No.
Eve: I knew it! Why do adults lie like that? I mean, it's impossible. No one could eat that many cookies.

Indeed.

A Letter for Emerson on his Birthday

2010-07-17T11:50:00.000-07:00

*Warning: The following is Emerson's Birth Story. Although it's not terribly gory, it is detailed. So, if you're a birth junky, like me, read on. If not, read this one instead.

I wrote this for Emerson just before his first birthday...9 years ago.

May 12, 2001

My sweet baby Emerson,

You were due on June 18, 2000 ~ Father’s Day. That day came and went without you…then the next, and the next, and the next three until Saturday, June 24. I woke from a sound sleep at 4:45 AM, and I remember my first thought was, “Huh, why am I suddenly wide awake? It's still dark out.” About 30 seconds later I had my first contraction. I remember thinking, “Oh my goodness. This is it. Here we go.” I had a sudden rush of anxiety as I realized there was no turning back and there was no slowing down. The contractions started strong and were coming about every 4-5 minutes. Within 10-15 minutes I was quite uncomfortable lying down in bed. That’s when I woke up Daddy and got into the bathtub. While in the tub I realized that the most comfortable position for me was on my hands and knees. I suspected that you were posterior as you had been on and off throughout my pregnancy. I was experiencing the painful back labor that is common with a posterior baby. On my hands and knees gravity helped to keep the back of your head from pressing against my lower back. My contractions continued to come pretty close together (about 3-4 minutes), and they were quite strong. At about 5:15 Daddy called Grammy and Leslie, our midwife. I felt a little silly calling them when I’d only been in labor for 30 minutes, but labor was progressing quickly. I was already to the point where I had to moan with contractions. I promptly threw up when I got out of the tub. They say that helps with dilation.

Once I got out of the bathtub, I had a really hard time finding a comfortable position to labor in. My back was aching, but I felt too heavy to hold myself up on my hands and knees with no where to rest my head. With Daddy's prompting, I waddled out into the pre-dawn air and got into the Jacuzzi in our backyard. In the Jacuzzi I was able to kneel on the bench and lean on the edge. This took the pressure off my lower back while giving me a place to rest my arms and head. And the warm water felt heavenly.

It was about 5:30, and it was so lovely and relaxing to be outside. The sun was just starting to lighten the foggy summer sky. Birds were singing their beautiful morning song. It seemed as though they were singing just for me, offering praise and encouragement and blessings for the new baby. (I have since learned that the bird I associate with Emerson's birth day is the red breasted robin singing his summer song. He sings it during the month of June in our area and only at dawn.) The scent of orange blossoms and jasmine floated in the damp morning air, and still the contractions grew stronger.

By 6AM my labor was quite strong, and I remember feeling like I wanted the reinforcements to arrive. I said to Daddy, “Where is everybody?” At that point I actually felt the vague and distant urge to push, “I think I’m going to be pushing soon.” I saw the look of panic on Daddy's face as he said, “Are you serious?” Cole woke up right about then and came out to partake in the festivities. We had talked with him a lot about the birth, and when when we asked him if he knew what was happening he said, “Mommy’s having ‘tractions.” Of course. He wasn't phased at all.

I think it was about 6:30-6:45 when Grammy and the gang arrived. I was glad to see them and I think Daddy was more than a little relieved. Leslie and Iris arrived about 7:00, and we were glad to see them, too. Over the next hour I continued to labor in the warm water with my head resting on my arms. Cole got into the tub with me at least once and drove his cars on the Jacuzzi edge. I threw up in the planter a couple of times. Daddy kept himself busy videotaping and bringing me water with a straw. My mom, sister and the midwives took turns holding my hands and stroking my hair.

At one point someone asked me if I wanted to birth inside or if I wanted to stay in the Jacuzzi. We hadn’t planned a water birth, and I was concerned about the chemicals in the tub. After a short discussion, we decided that a lightly chlorinated hot tub was probably a relatively sterile environment, and it was decided. We would have a water birth. Ahhh, one of the many joys of a home birth: spontaneous decisions on delivery locale. I was especially excited not to have to walk anywhere at 10 centimeters dilated.

By about 8AM the contractions were quite intense, and I remember saying to Daddy, “I forgot how painful this is. Is it too late for drugs?” I was genuinely disappointed when he whispered, Yes. The urge to push was still vague, but I was fully dilated so I spent the next 15-20 minutes trying to find a comfortable position in which to push. I finally settled on the same position that I’d labored in. I had a little break from contractions during transition (they call that the calm before the storm), and I was able to dose in Daddy’s arms for a few minutes. (He’d gotten in the tub with me.)

While I pushed, Auntie held my hands, and Daddy stayed in the tub with me. It was really sweet to have him right there, experiencing everything as closely as he could with me. He rubbed and caressed my back and from time to time felt your head to see how much progress we were making. Leslie stayed at the edge of the tub and let us have our baby together. It was lovely. As you were crowning, Daddy felt your amniotic sac bulging in front of your head. It didn’t break until your head was nearly all the way out. They say that's good luck. At one point I remember saying to my sister, “I gotta get it out!” and that’s when your head was born. Leslie leaned over the edge of the tub to help your shoulders emerge, and then the rest of your body was born into Daddy’s waiting arms. It’s hard to describe the physical sensation of the moment when your baby makes an exit from your body. It’s like a cork popping or a dam bursting. It’s so intense, and for a second you feel as if you’re falling. I remember yelling out, “Oh, God!” as you went shooting out of my body, and the intensity was startling as you catapulted into the world. I was so glad, for both you and Daddy, that his loving hands were the ones to catch you and bring you up out of the water and into the morning air. It was 8:58 when you took your first breath. At some point Cole had taken off his clothes and was in the Jacuzzi with us. There we were ~ a new family of four. It was lovely.

During your birth, it seemed like life in our charming little town had paused in sweet anticipation of your arrival. A few minutes after you were born a big truck pulled into the alley behind our fence, loaded up some stuff, and drove off. In the distance someone started a lawn mower. You were born on June 24, 2000 at 8:58 AM on a foggy Saturday morning on the Central Coast of California and life continued on around us. It was the most beautiful birth day.

My summer birthday boy just turned 10, and is he ever the most delightful 10 year old around. He's playing water polo and trying out a little tweenage attitude. Dave and I keep impressing upon him that it won't serve him...this isn't our first rodeo. But it's all fun.

We love you, Em! Happy Summer Birthday!

Surf's Up Monterey Bay - Who Knew?

2010-06-10T19:49:00.000-07:00

Inspired by our dear friend Justin, who recently wrote this article, we took our kids surfing in the (gulp) Monterey Bay. And, I daresay, it was pretty darn fun. Our friends in Sayulita will be glad to hear,

Dave recently bought this:

and, of course, we wore these:

Soli wore this over her bathing suit:

Evie made one of these:

Emerson and his pal enjoyed this:

Cole borrowed one of these:

The beach looked like this:

Dave pushed me into a few of these:

Behind Dave, the Monterey Bay Aquarium looks like this:

I was pretty excited to see this: (Oh, the glorious tax dollars.)

And we didn't even see any of these:

That's lucky.

I think we'll go again.

Introducing...

2010-06-02T22:52:00.000-07:00

Our nephew:
Ryder Owen
May 26, 2010
8 lbs, 6 oz

Dear Earth Mother,

2010-05-23T14:16:00.000-07:00

Blessed of All Mothers,

Please watch over my baby sister and give her strength and peace as she brings forth new life on this day, her Birth Day.

On Turning Four

2010-05-19T23:09:00.000-07:00

Birthdays are a big deal in our house. And our little Miss Soli Mae turned four on "May Pebbin" (May 7, of course.) When I had asked her what she wanted to do for her birthday she said, "Go Chwismas popping, bus you and me." (Go Christmas shopping, just you and me.) Darling fourth child. Gotta love 'em. And, yes, she probably needs speech therapy. So on her birthday, we dressed up in our fancy best, just the two of us, and hit the high road straight to Thinker Toys in Carmel-By-The-Sea, where she spent her birthday money on a car. She loves cars. She sleeps with them. They're metal. And their little doors and hoods open. Those are her favorite. She has quite the collection. Darling fourth child, indeed.

Here are the pics of our day.

I love my birthday!!!

A new big girl bike! (This bike was "hidden" in the back of my car for a week before Soli's birthday. I caught her looking back there once or twice, but it was pretty well disguised in Toys-R-Us bags. One night at dinner we were doing "high-low" and she said, "My high is dat you bought a bite for my birtday. It in yo car." We all cracked up at the table. She's too smart for me.)

The most beautiful four year old in the whole world.

We even put make-up on.

Just you and me, in our fancy best.
Happy Birthday, Peanut Butter!!
I love you so much! Thanks for taking me Christmas "popping".
Love,
Mommy

Evie's New 'Do

2010-05-03T09:54:00.000-07:00

After months of fun in the sun Evie's hair was...well....it needed a trim. She's been asking to cut it short for about a year and, finally, I acquiesced. How adorable is it? Of course, her "best friends" made fun of her at school and told her she looked like a boy. Now she's traumatized. I didn't miss that nonsense.

But, I did miss this darling sense of style. White pedal pushers under a yellow paisley skirt with a Red Mexican tunic, a size too small. Love. It. Truly. And her haircut is so Junie B. Jones.

Christmas in April

2010-04-27T22:58:00.000-07:00

Home again. Home again. What can I say? It's mostly good to be here. It's raining and freezing as promised. It feels like December. We have socks on and a fire going and we just opened all of our Christmas cards. (Thanks to those of you who kept us on your Christmas list. As for the rest of you...you'll be receiving an email.) The kids wasted no time getting back to school and were over the moon to see their friends and teachers. Soli was so excited to wear her favorite footie pajamas and play with her long lost toys. Dave and I are, well...I think we're a little homesick. We just spent the last hour watching Sayulita videos on youtube. Is that a bad sign? And we both have indigestion. How ironic is that? Six months in Mexico and no problems. One greasy In-N-Out burger on the way home from SFO and we're hatin' it. Anyway, we're glad to be home safe and sound and we're so happy that our "Sayulita Experiment" was such a smashing success. Now back to real life... you know, where you have to wear undergarments.

Zippity - Do - Da

2010-04-26T00:54:00.000-07:00

Well, it's 2:30 in the morning, and I think I've been packing for about...a year. Anyway, it's our last night (day?) in Sayulita. Sigh. So sad. But, we've had a great weekend and here are the pictures to prove it.

Cupcakes to school on the kids' last day. Cole opted out pleading "too cool". Whatever.
*disclaimer - I didn't make the cupcakes. And, I only feel a little guilty about that.

Evie and pals - Jimena, Samuel, and Lupita.

Me and my girls.

Evie with her first grade class and Maestra Tania.

Emerson getting "caked" by pals David, Victor, Yoel and Manuel.

And after school, to celebrate a job well done, I took the kids ziplining. They deserved it.
P.S. Is Cole almost as tall as me? What the @#$%? I was on a hill...

"Look, Mom! No hands!" Indeed.

Emerson in the treetops above the Sayulita jungle.

Cole coming in for a landing.

How cute are we? And, I'll have you notice my burly neck muscles which are directly related to the head stands that I can now do in yoga without falling on my arse. Ahem.

Soli, Em, Evie with Jade and Astrid

We have such delightful friends here in Sayulita (which makes it extra hard to leave). And a few of these delightful friends "strongly encouraged" us to leave our packing for just a brief while and join them on the beach for a farewell and a mai tai. Thanks you guys. You made us feel loved! See you in November.

Donna, Treva, and Me

Justin, Dave and Nick. Dave forgot his fidora...

Uh-oh....roosters just started crowing...good night.

P.S. I'll meet you north of the border.

Meshach

2010-04-19T21:45:00.000-07:00

We recently met a neat family from Hawaii who is spending two years sailing, surfing, homeschooling, and cruisin' the Mexican coast on their trimaran, Meshach. (drool) And, as they were passing by Sayulita, they called us from their Iphone (I love technology...name that movie) and said, "Meet us at Playa de los Muertos. We're dropping anchor." So we did just that. And we spent the day sipping cerveza and swappin' storm stories while children dangled from the rigging above. We had such fun! So much fun, in fact, that they sailed north and we drove north and we all hung out some more in San Blas and Matanchen Bay. I just uncovered the pics from our "little" camera and had to share a few. Fair winds, Meshach. And, thanks for letting our kids trash your boat. Sorry about the paddle...

Tristan showing Cole and Em "the ropes".

Evie's our bravest...

This man...never more comfortable than on a sailboat.

Sienna, Soli, and Evie playing beads in Sienna's "room".

Em and Tristan building lego creations in the aft cabin.

How gorgeous is my sister...and my nephew?

Cole "skurfing" behind the dinghy.

More on that...

2010-04-18T20:03:00.000-07:00

I know my post yesterday was painfully long, but I thought of some other things I wanted to say about that. The kids aren't quite fluent in Spanish, but they have a solid foundation. They can understand about 80% of what is said to them and they can communicate pretty well. It's music to my ears to hear them "habla", but they're shy to speak in front of me so I only get to hear them when I'm eavesdropping (or when I threaten to ground them for all eternity).

To test this theory I just asked Evie what she would say at school if she needed to use someone's pencil and she said (with perfect accent I might add), "Me prestas un lapiz?" Will you lend me a pencil? That is not something I taught her. I love it. Then I asked her how she would say, "I want an horchata." And she said, "Yo quieres un horchata." - I wants an horchata. I'll take it. Then I asked her how to say, "My mom went to the store." She said, "Mi mama vamos...va la tienda." (My mom go...goes the store.) Not bad.

This morning I asked Emerson to ask his teacher if he wanted me to come teach English today. Later when I asked him how he had asked (and threatened to ground him for all eternity when he said he was too embarrassed to tell me) he said,"Usted quiere mi mama venga aqui para clases de ingles?" If you speak Spanish you know that this is a rather complex sentence including the elusive subjunctive tense (venga). And he said it almost perfectly. I could cry.

Dave and I got permission from the principal of Cole's school to take him out of regular classes for the three weeks before Spring Break in March so he could attend intensive Spanish classes at a language school here in town. Believe it or not, of all of his U.S. classes (we've been supplementing after school the whole time down here) I felt like he was falling behind in...Spanish. He was getting nouns and fluency at school, but he was missing the basics. Anyway, since his intensive stint his Spanish has become quite good. He says he understands most of what is said to him now that he understands verb conjugation. Yeehaw.

Mex Ed

2010-04-16T14:23:00.000-07:00

Our clock is running out on our time here in Sayulita (pesky clock - always running). We have just 10 more days. So sad. But, while it's all fresh in my mind I want to document our experience in the Mexican public education system both for posterity's sake and for anyone who care's to know the details. Here are my observations and comparisons. Prepare for a long post...or just skip to the pics.

The kids have been in the public schools in Sayulita, Nayarit for 5 months now. Evie and Emerson are at the Primaria (1st and 4th respectively) and Cole is at the Secondaria (7th). The primaria (primary) goes from 1st - 6th grade and the secondaria (secondary) goes from 7th - 9th grade. Preschool (called kinder and pronounced "keen-dair") is for 3, 4 and 5 year olds although the public preschool here in town doesn't have a 3 year old program. After the secondaria kids here in Mexico have the opportunity (if they're lucky) to attend a preparatoria or prepa which is the equivalent to high school, although I get the impression that it may be more like a tech school. And for a lot of kids this step from secondary to prepa is like our step in the U.S. and Canada from high school to college. Not all of them go on to prepa and many kids enter the work force after completing 9th grade. The nearest prepa to Sayulita is in La Cruz (I think) which is a 20 minute bus ride away.

Our experience has been surprisingly positive. I have been impressed with the education available to students should they choose to take advantage of it. Each student receives about 6 textbooks, 1 for each basic subject. The textbooks here have soft covers and look very similar to thick workbooks. The basic subjects are math, history, Spanish (language arts - a reader and an activity book), science, and geography. The information is quite good. For example, Emerson just finished up a section on African Bees (previously know as Killer Bees, but they prefer to be called African Bees. It's pc, you know). It was actually a language arts activity. So he had to read a 5 paragraph passage in his reader and then in his corresponding l.a. activities book he had 3 or 4 pages of activities. One was to discuss the main topic of each paragraph. Another was to discuss the "job" of each type of bee in the hive. Another was to identify the title and subtitles of the passage and discuss what could be deduced about the succeeding paragraphs. Now he's an expert on African bees and bee hive management (and I am, too). Again, I believe the education available through the Mexican public schools to be quite good should a student and his/her family take advantage of the education available. The same is true in the States. If the students do the homework and study for the exams and the families encourage those efforts then education will happen. I can only speak from our experience here and in public schools in CA, but I think the biggest difference in educational opportunities between "here" and "there" is the involvement of the families and the overall importance put on education. In the States many communities and families (not all) have the luxury of prioritizing education very highly for their kids. Here, many kids have to work in order to help provide for the basic needs of their families and education is secondary to that, rightfully so. I know that's not an original discovery or anything. Again, the education is quite good if families are able to take advantage of the opportunities.

Now, don't get me wrong. Things are, of course, different than what we would expect of an educational setting in the States. For example, at the primaria and secondaria the classrooms are pretty barren. There may be alphabet placards above the dry erase board, but that might be all of the decor adorning the walls (except for scuff marks and scribbles and peeling paint). But all of the classrooms have dry erase boards. As in CA, my understanding is that public schools here receive a small amount of money from the government and the parent groups supplement. There are continuous fundraising efforts for the public schools. For example, the secondary school had a fundraiser selling calenders with pictures that some of their students had taken at a photography camp last summer. But, most (if not all) classroom supplies are provided by the parent co-op of each class (called a salon). There is a parent meeting once every couple of months and the "room mom" collects money for things like drinking water, plastic cups, and any thing else needed in the classroom. Also, during these parent meetings the teacher discusses anything pertinent to the class like behavior issues and homework deficiencies. For example, one time Emerson's teacher mentioned that one of the girls in his class who wears glasses was being picked on by the boys and asked if we could all talk to our kids and remind them to be kind. A typical parent/teacher meeting. Also at these meetings the teachers pass out the trimester exams and progress reports. So it seems that there are finals at the end of each trimester and grades (calificaciones) are based on the results of these exams as well as behavior, attendance, and class participation.

As with every school, teachers have strengths and weakness, schools have areas in which they can improve and the dynamics between the students sets the tone for the work environment of a classroom. For example, Emerson's salon has a large number of high energy boys. You know the ones. And, apparently, they have been that way since first grade when they were originally put together. Even though there are about two classes per grade (1st - 9th, with 25 kids per grade), the kids stay together in the same group as they move from grade to grade. So this class is the "high energy" class. Anyway, they have burned through teachers since their start together, and the teacher they had in November was a sweet, docile gal who had absolutely no control over the class. It was always totally chaotic and ear-piercingly loud. (p.s. Everything is louder in Mexico - music, fireworks, cars, kids, everything). Their new teacher is very strict and keeps very good order in the classroom - a much better learning environment. The same means of discipline are used here as in the States, ie; name on the board, staying in at recess, etc. Although, it seems to be acceptable for teachers to shout at the kids and tell them to "Callense" ("Shut-up") when necessary. Whatever works. Another difference (which is cultural as well) is that the kids throw trash on the ground, inside the classrooms and out in the school yard. Needless to say, by the end of the day the classrooms look like pigsties. Then at the end of the day they are responsible for doing "el aseo" - the cleaning. At least in Emerson's class each day there is a group of kids assigned to sweep out all the trash and put it in the trash bucket and then mop and clean the windows and the dry erase board. Brilliant, I say. No custodial engineer on campus at all (isn't that what they like to be called these days?). Emerson does the aseo on Mondays. In Evie's class, because the kids are so little, the parent group of that salon pitches in and has hired one of the moms to come every day or so to do the cleaning. Also, Evie's teacher doesn't seem to tolerate (as much) the throwing of trash on the floor. Their classroom is usually tidier. But, again, part of that is cultural (throwing of trash on the ground is somewhat acceptable in Mexico) and part of that is how the teacher runs the classroom. Certainly, in CA there are a couple of teachers that come to mind at our elementary school, that by the end of the day their classrooms are pigsties. Right?

At both schools the kids have P.E. (phisica) once or twice a week with a special P.E. teacher. Evie goes once a week and Emerson and Cole go twice a week. They do fun P.E. activities like in the States, ie; dodge ball, around the world basketball, etc. The kids love phisica and on those days they get to wear their blue shorts or skorts. The secondary kids have special P.E. uniforms.

Substitutes are a funny thing down here, because...there are none. If a teacher can't make it to school there's simply no school that day for that class. So I learned quickly, especially for Evie, that it is imperative to get a visual on the teacher during the morning drop off. Otherwise the director will dismiss the class and the kids are expected to walk home. That's fine for the older grades, but not so much for the youngers. I suppose the up side of no subs is that it cuts down on the expense of what often amounts to be a wasted day in education.

The schedule for the primary is 8-12:30. The secondary goes from 7-1:30. All three kids have homework pretty much everyday including Fridays. Cole will usually have a math assignment and then something from language arts, history, or geography. There are significantly more big "projects" assigned for homework than what we are used to in CA. For example, one day for "tarea" Emerson had to build a model of the earth out of clay and a styrofoam ball on a stick. Evie's class is studying animals and they recently had to build a model of a zoo using a foam board and clay, etc. Cole had to do a report on ethnic languages in Mexico and make a map of the locations of the different native peoples on a big poster board. Often times for homework the kids will have to collect (or buy) the items needed for a science or art project for class the next day. If a kid doesn't bring in their supplies they either can't participate (which down here, there is no shame in that) or they will buddy up with someone and share.

There aren't many field trips to speak of (of course we only have field trips in CA because of our parents' group) although the kids did do a beach clean up before the festivities of Semana Santa (free). They were also invited to go and hear the president of Bahia de Banderas give a speech in the plaza (free). And, of course, there are the parades (free). Half of the school marches in the parade for the Dia de la Independencia in November and the other half marches in the parade for the Dia de la Bandera (Flag Day) in February. Each school has a little color guard who wear special uniforms on Mondays when the schools do their formal flag ceremony on the basketball courts. The color guard also has a special place in the parades.

At the secondary I have been very impressed with the amount of, what I would call, extra education opportunities available. They have a huge computer lab with Wi-Fi. The kids have art once a week where they create lovely masterpieces (one of which I have framed in our casita) and everyone gets English. At our middle school in CA we have a tech lab the same size, no art, and Spanish is optional (and every year our language program is on the chopping block). The kids at the secondary here also have a class called Opcional which seems to be a class in life skills and manners. They learn how to set goals and attain them. They teach the kids the importance of being respectful to others. They remind them to use their own good judgement and not follow what their friends do, etc. I like it. I'm not really sure about organized sports at the secondary. I know kids can play soccer and baseball on organized league teams here in town. And a few months ago there was a volleyball tournament at the secondary and teams from other towns came to participate.

As is true when comparing two schools from any two different places (districts, states, countries) I found some aspects of the Sayulita public education to be better than our CA district and some aspects to be not better. But in the end I found them to be quite comparable. And I'm so glad our kids were able to have such an enriching experience.

Cole and Dave

Evie doing P.E. with her class.

Emerson and Evie with cousins Savannah and Sienna. They went to school for a day during their visit check it out.

Parading down Revoluccion.

Cole doing "tarea".

Emerson and his model of the layers of the earth.

A Vacation From Our Vacation

2010-04-11T22:11:00.000-07:00

If you've been following our adventures in Mexico you probably know that, contrary to popular belief, we didn't come down here "on vacation". We came down here to live a different life, learn a different culture, teach ourselves to surf and eat fish tacos. Oh, and torture our kids by sending them to Mexican public schools where they would learn to sink or swim in a total immersion situation. My point is, aside from the fish tacos (note to self: Fish tacos and a Corona, does not constitute a low-cal meal, even if you forgo the tortillas. Nice try.) our time in Sayulita has not been vacation. Don't get me wrong. It's been amazing. AMAZING. But it hasn't been all poolside-pina-coladas, people. It's been school, and homework (in Spanish), and work, and building a house, and more homework (in English), and, well, it's been normal life with four kids, just sweatier. So let me just tell you, with the house finished, my sister in town for a visit, the kids out of school for Semana Santa and pina coladas aside our new pool, we feel like we're on vacation. Ahhhhh. Heavenly.

And, as you may also know, we love a good road trip. And since we have hardly ventured further than Home Depot since arriving in Sayulita last November, we decided it was high time to hit the road and take a vacation from our vacation. So we packed "el burro" with surf boards, sunblock, and Skin-So-Soft, and headed for San Blas and the "world's longest wave" in Matanchen Bay. Here are some pics from our Semana Santa. Salud.

We had a pool party potluck at the Barefoot House (do you see the foot shaped pool?) for Easter.

The Dads - Terry, Dave, Nick, Ed, and John. How cute are they all "dressed up" in their board shorts and collared shirts?

Dave on an everlasting wave in Matanchen Bay. It just kept going...

...and going

...and going....

...and going. He learned to "hang five" on one of these waves. Dude.

Jumping on the "Brincoline" in San Blas with new friends - Soli, Zada, Evie, Tristan, and Sienna.

"Step into my office".

We went on a real life jungle tour in San Blas. It was so fun. We saw tons of wildlife - birds, turtles, huge iguanas, and even crocodiles. They assured us there were no crocs in this swimming area. Hmmm.

I didn't even have to pay for this pose.

This one, I did. These huts were built to make a movie, Cabezas de Vacas. (Heads of Cows?) Supposed to be a comedy.

"El Burro" in front of Matanchen Bay.

"Holiday Ro-o-o-o-o-o-oad"
A Mexican Family Vacation

The End.

Sayulita Days

2010-03-25T22:14:00.000-07:00

In Sayulita, the week surrounding Mexico's Flag Day (February 24) is known as "Sayulita Days". Have I mentioned before how festive Mexico is? How it seems that there is a holiday every other week? Have I mentioned how much I love that about Mexico? One more reason for a day off school and a party, you know? Anyway, Sayulita Days is a time for celebrating - you guessed it - Sayulita! And, boy is there celebrating! There's a carnival at the baseball field, a parade (which my kids were in!), food booths, music, dancing, more food booths, jumpy houses in the plaza, more music and a whole street (or maybe two) is closed for market booths. The atmosphere is very, very festive and we enjoyed ourselves very much, yes we did. I took about...oh...a million pictures, and now I'll begin the painstaking job of sorting and sharing my favorites....

....an hour later.

I didn't realize how slow my connection was. It took forever to upload 10 pictures. But, without further adieu, for your viewing enjoyment, I give you...

Sayulita Days

The candy booth was a big hit with our fam.

That's a burrito. I repeat...a burrito. Grande.

We all agreed that this was our favorite carnival game...throw a rock, break a bottle, win a beer...for your mom. Emerson won two. Yeah for me.

Sweet sisters in front of the ferrous wheel. What's that rule? Never ride a ferrous wheel in Mexico? Whatever. We break all the rules.

Evie in the parade.

Emerson, too.

See that tall gringo kid toward the back? He be mine.

Our Miss Soleil Mia watching the parade from atop the golf cart with her new friend...Soleil Maya. Did you follow that? We met this little girl here in Sayulita and her name is Soleil Maya. Can you believe it?

We heart Sayulita.

Meet Luke

2010-03-15T22:38:00.000-07:00

This is Luke. His boy is Josh. Josh is pals with Cole. Luke lives on the hill across from us. One day he came over to our house with Josh to "hang" (which is what the coolest teenage dogs and boys do nowadays). Luke has seemingly decided that our house is a sweeter hangout than his own, and, almost every day (sometimes twice a day), he comes over to "hang" with Zona.

Luke: "Uhhhh. Hey, Mrs. Stewart. I was like wondering...if Zona...could like...hang."

Zona: "Who is it, Mom? Is it...him? Is it...Luke? You know...that one I've been texting? Oh, hey, Luke. I was just licking my fur."

Luke (thinking to himself): "She's like soooo, tutally, hawwwt."

Zona: "I just can't stop smiling! OMG, Luke. You're like so funny!"

Me (thinking to myself): I'm not sure if I'm ready for this whole "dating" business.
"Maintain a healthy perimeter, Kids."

A Sad Day in Sayulita

2010-03-08T22:26:00.000-08:00

We bought our property here in Sayulita 12 years ago, almost to the day. The woman who sold it to us, Ruperta, lived in a house on the corner across the street from the plaza where they used to sell gas out of jerry jugs. In fact, she still lives there, but the jerry jugs are long gone. On the night we went to her house to finalize the transaction we sat in her living room amongst her family members. I remember her grown daughter was there, a spitting image of Ruperta herself with the exact same hair cut and the same watchful eyes that frightened me just a little (or maybe I was afraid that they would change their minds after recalculating the exchange rate and decide that $3200 dollars just wasn't enough pesos). She watched us as we counted out our money and then took the stack of bills and recounted them herself. Sitting on the opposite end of the couch from me and Dave, was an adult son of Ruperta's who really could not be bothered with the whole business of selling properties and was far more interested in the soap opera quietly playing from the TV in the corner of the living room. There may have been another adult there, too, but I can't recall. I do remember Ruperta's grandson; her daughter's son, who was about 8 or 9 years old at the time. He played quietly on the stairs off the living room, observing the whole affair indifferently and every now and then glancing our way to sneak a peak at Cole (who was 13 months old).

Since we've been back in Sayulita we drive by Ruperta's house on the corner almost every day. I often see Ruperta and her daughter sitting up on the front stoop watching town bustle by on the cobblestone. And ocassionally I would see a young man with them. Once he was watering the orchids. Another time he sat on the steps and chatted with friends. At some point I realized that this young man was the boy I remembered from 12 twelve years ago. This young man, this boy from 12 years ago, died last night in a terrible car accident. Two other boys from Sayulita also died in the crash. It is a sad, sad day here in Sayulita. Our town is mourning. The street in front of Ruperta's house was closed to set up chairs for people to sit and grieve. Stores were closed. Kids were let out of school early to attend the service. Mass was held. The church bells rang. People cried. Oh, people cried. And for the first time since we've been down here. I felt like an intruder; an outsider. I felt like a guest overstaying my welcome in the midst of a family tragedy. These wonderful people share their town with us. Open their hearts and their homes to us. They let us take advantage of their beautiful weather, their fabulous surf and their generous hospitality. Then in the wake of a tragedy like this, they have to put up with clueless gringos on vacation; laughing and taking pictures of dogs in the plaza. It was a poignant distinction as the funeral procession marched down Revoluccion followed by most of the locals while vacationers lined the sidewalks taking pictures.

And although our family didn't march in the procession or go to the special mass service, neither are we here on vacation. Over the past four months we have become a part of this community, albeit on the periphery. We aren't family, but we feel the pain of the people who have become a part of our lives down here. Our heart aches for Ruperta and her family, their history having been woven with our own. And for Namo, our favorite electrician, when he tells us with teary eyes that two of the boys were his cousins. We feel it when Violeta recounts the details of the crash having seen it first hand when walking home with her husband. We fear for our own kids when we hear the crash site was on the highway right near where Cole walks to school. Our heart aches for Mario, who works on our crew, because those were his best buds. And for Cole's friend, Jonathan and his family, who own Carmelita's Restaurant (our favorite), because two of the boys were their family, too.

If you are so inclined please keep these people on your hearts that they may have the strength to endure this sad time. And give your kids an extra hug.

Moving In and Dave's Broken Nose

2010-03-07T15:42:00.001-08:00

We are officially moved in to (read: "all our crap is now within the walls of") the Barefoot House. Here are some pics of our first hours:

Piles, piles, everywhere...

But, at least we have the letter magnets on the fridge. Evie's doing her part.

The kids' room "undone".

Voila! I can deal with piles of c.r.a.p. as long as beds are made, right? See the ladder going up to the boys' sleeping loft? I don't have a good pic of it yet, but if you make this bigger you can see the edge with the rail.

Check out the concrete bed frame. It's all about the concrete here in Mexico. I, myself, was a nonbeliever. But, now, I've seen the light.

Ahhh. Just in time for bed. Still need to find a king duvet cover. Not so easy to find down here. You must click on this pic to make it bigger and check out the painting above our bed. It's just the coolest. We scored it for $1100 pesos or about $88 U.S. I just love it.

Before...

After.

We named our casa "Barefoot House" because the pool looks just like a foot (and because Casa Huella - is just too hard to say). Then we chanced upon Barefoot wine, which excited us very much, yes it did. We bought a bottle at the Mega, and last night we opened it to celebrate our first night in our little casita. Check out the acid stained concrete countertop with pebble aggregate in the kitchen. We're pretty excited about that, too.

And, lastly, Dave broke his nose surfing. He took a spill and his board popped up and kadoogied him right in the nose. The good news? It was "the best wave of my life". Dude.
P.S. I think that shade of purple does wonders for his turquoise eyes. Don't you?

Emerson

2010-03-03T21:42:00.000-08:00

It has been on my heart to blog about my darling second born son. He is, quite simply, the most delightful 9 year old boy I know. And as our "middle" child he is often lost in the wash (we do a lot of wash). So I wanted to share some of my very favorite things about Emerson (aside from his fabulous name):

He's insightful. He can sense people's emotions and their motivations. He can tell when something is bothering me, and he's not afraid to ask what it is. Then he'll say something like, "I'm sorry you're sad, Mom" or "I'm sorry that happened." He gets stuff. You know? He gets the big picture. He gets the importance of family and of spending time with grandparents while they're here. He sees the connection we have to our Earth and the importance of protecting it. He gets on his brother if he tries to throw away a recyclable. He understands the value of quiet and thoughtfulness. He is comfortable with simply being as opposed to doing. He laughs at my jokes when no one else gets them. And he's funny. He busts out movie lines at the most perfect moments and cracks us all up. He loves classic rock and fancies himself somewhat of an expert. He plays the guitar. He is quietly protective and watchful of his sisters and even his older brother. He is his father's son. Quiet and watchful. Sensitive and sincere. Honest and good. He has a genuine heart. He deeply empathizes with people and feels their woes. He wants to give what he has to his friends here in Mexico who have so little. He wants to give them his football and his DSi game. He makes friends easily and quietly. He doesn't have to try. And he's super smart. At 9, I'm starting to see that he's an intellectual. And he's good. He's just a good person. He doesn't kill bugs. And I love him so, so much.

Em, I'm sorry I let you fly under the radar too often. I know I let the sibs demand a lot of my time and attention and that you often get the short end of that stick. You, by nature, are not demanding, which is one of your most delightful qualities. And I, by nature, am drawn to those who are most demanding. I tend to put out the biggest fires first. Your fire (compared to those of your siblings, which are often raging out of control) is always so nicely tended that I often overlook it, burning so tidily. I will endeavor to stop and sit down by your fire more often, my sweet boy, especially because you don't demand it. You keep your fire so nicely tended. We'll roast marshmallows and chat. Thank you for being who you are. You are a gift; a true joy. I love you. ~Mom

He Does Love Me...Usually

2010-02-12T14:04:00.000-08:00

One December Dave came to me with regret in his eyes and said, "I haven't bought you anything for Christmas. I really don't know what to get you. Is there something you want this year?" I thought about it and there was something I wanted - a love note. From him. He'd never really written me a love note. Thankfully he's not really the love-note-writing type, otherwise I probably wouldn't have fallen for him. Too much ooey, gooey, mushy love makes me queasy. Anyway, over our 14+ years he's given me lots and lots of cards with very sweet, handwritten sentiments that usually make me misty. And you know they're all safely tucked away in my fire proof safe with my other "valuables". But I wanted a love note. Or better yet a love letter. A long juicy love letter. Laying it all out there. Why did he love me? What exactly did he find loveable about me? I wanted to know. So that year I asked him for a love letter. And on Christmas morning, poking out from the top of my stocking was the following note: (I felt inspired to share it here for two reasons: 1) It's Valentine's weekend - did you hear? and 2) Dave is a little irritated with me today and sometimes when that happens I like to read this letter to remind myself that he does, in fact, adore me - usually. I only omitted a couple of items that I didn't want my father-in-law to read. Sorry, Bill.)

What I love about Heather…

I love who you bring out in me.

I love how we met.

I love that you let me put my cold hands on your skin.

I love how good you are at giving birth.

I love knowing someone who knows me so well.

I love how you are such a good listener.

I love that you surrender to me.

I love your upside down smile.

I love how you make up words.

I love your hair in a pony tail.

I love road trips with you and long talks.

I love that you are honest.

I love that you support me sailing even when it makes you sick.

I love growing old with you.

I love that you don’t wear make-up.

I love how tall you are.

I love when you sing.

I love the photo albums you keep.

I love the way we got married.

I love your nose.

I love what you see in me.

I love that you bring me water when I am thirsty.

I love that you worry about things so I don’t have to.

I love that you are a stay home Mom.

I love that you are ticklish on your bikini line.

I love putting my hand under your hip at night.

I love how picky you are about your pillows.

I love how you dream.

I love watching you mature and get more beautiful every year.

I love how you touch me.

I love how soft your skin is.

I love how you trust me.

I love how well you pack for trips and unpack weeks later.

I love when you take time for yourself.

I love how you parent.

I love how you buy plants and let them die.

I love how you are always late.

I love your companionship.

I love when you wake up and find me in the shower or making breakfast.

I love how you run the heater till it is 74 degrees.

I love your cooking.

I love staying healthy because I know it means I will have more time with you later.

I love when you help me with my problems.

I love your imagination.

I love how you look in a snug shirt with nothing underneath.

I love the way you order at restaurants.

I love that you are such a good driver.

I love how you can only do one thing at a time.

I love how you crack your knuckles when you are nervous.

I love how you can talk me to sleep.

I love how you let me be right.

I love your input on business decisions.

I love that you like Jimmy Buffet.

I love when I startle you and you do that karate chop.

I love the way you sneeze.

I love that you remember my childhood better than me.

I love when you laugh really hard.

I love that you love me even though I am not romantic.

I love that small mole in the groove of your hip.

I love the shape of your body.

I love how you take forever to cut my hair and then follow me around with scissors.

I love how you scrub my back in the shower.

I love how you rescue baby birds.

I love your pregnant belly.

I love the way you ask for my advice and don’t take it.

I love how proud you are when you mow the lawn.

I love that I am married to such a good person.

I love the expressions on your face and the lines by your eyes.

I love how you skip when we’re holding hands.

I love how you say “it will actually save me money”

I love your passion for life.

I love you because when I am down you always help me up.

Happy Valentine's Day

May we all be surrounded by love this weekend and always.

El Niño

2010-02-09T21:00:00.000-08:00

Apperently, I missed the memo that this is an "el niño" year. And here's what I've learned about "el niño", thus far:

1) It explains why there were less hurricanes in Miami this past hurricane season - according to my in-laws.
2) The surf in Sayulita is bigger than usual, according to Rogelio at the surf shop here in town.
3) Sayulita gets rain and lots of it (and Puerto Vallarta may get an occasional tornado) during the "dry" season, which is right now.

So last week the in-laws flew in to check out our Sayulita scene and to help celebrate my birthday (it was Wednesday - yeah, thanks for calling). That night it started raining and continued raining, on and off, for three days. So much rain, in fact, that the Secretaria de Educacion Publica closed the schools in our region for the whole week! We were so excited! And the kids got to hang with the grandparents for the whole week without even playing hooky. Happy Birthday to me!

And since it's been a while since I posted any pics on my blog here are some for your viewing enjoyment:

With the Abuelos, Grandpa Bill and Gramma Connie

Cole and $1000 pesos on his birthday (Don't freak out. It's about $80 U.S.)

Cruisin' the plaza in our 9 seater EZ-GO - the suburban of golf carts.

An impromptu pool party at the Casita. The pool is now completely finished (notice it's not quite full in this pic), and the casita is on schedule to be finished in a couple of weeks (mas o menos, of course).

My soggy birthday party with our dear friends from Alaska.

The best birthday cake ever. Made with love by Gramma and the girls. (My secret's out...)

We love to go for an afternoon nieve (ice cream in these parts). I always get an horchata.

Dave and a really big wave.

I've been teaching English once a week in Evie and Emerson's classes. I love it, especially when I see the kids around town and they run up to me and say, "Hello. Goodbye. How arr ju?" So stinkin' cute.

Loading up "El Burro" for a surf expedition to our favorite beach "La Lancha".

Trekkin' out the 10 minute trail.

Another awesome day at Lancha.

Grandpa and Emerson discussing the rise and fall of George W.

Pack it in, pack it out. Cole and Soleil.

P.S. Three years ago today we brought Soli home from Guatemala. Here's the link to that story. Tonight we celebrated with friends and got ice cream, per her request. We love you so much, Miss Soli Mae. Thanks for joining our family.

13 Years Ago Today...

2010-01-15T15:32:00.000-08:00

...I awoke at 2AM to what I would quickly realize was a contraction. My first child had been due 3 days before, on January 12. I remember January 12 had been a Sunday that year (1997). Dave and I, after realizing that we weren't likely to have a baby that day, had gone garage sailing to pass the time. At one sale, the woman had glanced at my ginormous belly and asked when I was due. She recoiled from me slightly when I exclaimed eagerly, "Today!" I was 20 (soon to be 21, but who's counting?) and Dave was 27 (and a half - as long as we're counting). We lived in a sunny little house full of windows on a darling little hill covered in oak trees in Prunedale, California (yes, they used to grow prunes there - I mean plums). Our street was called Via del Sol (By Way of the Sun) - I loved that address.

It must have been about 2:30AM or so when we called the midwife (AKA "Mom" and soon-to-be-known-as "Gramma" and eventually-known-as "Mimi"). Yes, my mom was our midwife when Cole was born. And, yes, it was kinda weird - sorry, Mom. Anyway, Cole's Birth Day went something like this (I have the exact details written down in a journal and locked away in a fire-proof safe among my other most valuable posessions ie; love letters - I mean letter - from my husband, baby books, and a stack of 8 mm video tapes - remember those? - from before we went digital. No I don't have any heirloom jewelry in there. I keep those in plain sight on my dresser, of course.) But, back to the story for today...Cole's Birth Day:

*2AM - awoke with contractions
*2:30 - called Mom
*3AM - got in the tub
*3:30 - started singing that creepy caterpillar song from Alice in Wonderland (p.s. I just watched that movie with my girls, and I'm pretty sure that caterpillar is stoned. Pretty sure.)
*4AM - barfed in the trash can in the bathroom. Dave got in on video. That video tape is in the fire proof safe, of course.
*5AM - laid back down. Dozed for a while. Cuddled with Dave. Listened to the rain on the roof.
*6AM - mom arrived with Aletha (the other midwife)
*7AM - barfed again. Dilated a centimeter - 6 centimeters now.
*8AM - got back in the tub. Sang some more.
*9AM - imagined floating down a river during contractions - I remember the very vague sensation that I was headed toward a waterfall. Interesting.
*10AM - paced in the living room with Dave
*11AM - barfed again. Dilated to 8 cm.
*12PM - did some squats in the living room. I remember hearing my mom laugh on the phone and I thought to myself, "What the &*%$ is so funny!?" Nearing transition no doubt.
*1PM - felt a switch flip and had the sudden and overwhelming urge to push.
*2:10PM - baby's heart rate slows. Mom says, "Time to push him out." Felt the collective power of all women who had given birth before me and felt my unmistakable connection to them. Felt the "bigness" of what was happening. My connection to the "whole" - way beyond physical.
*2:20PM - Our baby boy is born - a little purple. Tactile stim. A good strong cry.
*2:25 PM - We think about nursing, but my little guy has other plans. He stretches his little turtle neck up, tilts his head back and, with big blue eyes, looks up at me - directly into my eyes. Into my soul. Dave got a picture.
*2:30 PM - You're kidding. I have to push again? Felt a little sorry for myself but pushed anyway. Back into my physical person. The placenta was born.
*2:45 - Dave holds his son. I take a shower. Someone makes lunch.
*4PM - Aletha heads home. We let Morgen in to meet the baby. She'd been wining outside during the birth, worried about me. We have it on video.
*5PM - Mom and the gang head home. (My siblings and my dad were at Cole's birth, too.)
*6PM - Dave makes dinner. Cole and I rock by the fire and nurse. My nipples are on fire, too.
*7PM - Dave tucks us in and then does the dishes. Mom calls.
*8PM - We all fall asleep. Nursing. A new family of three.

Happy Birthday, my darling 13 year old boy. Still a baby. Always my baby.

Happy New Year!

2010-01-02T21:51:00.000-08:00

Surf's Up Sayulita.

Emerson's got the "hang" of it.

"Look, Mom! I caught a hermit crab! Can I keep him?"

Up...

and Away!

Baby Leatherbacks heading to sea.

The palm tree Dave and the kids planted at the Casita, affectionately referred to as "Barefoot House" (available to rent May 2010)

Welcome 2010!

(A friend took this awesome pic - Thanks Donna.)

Feliz Navidad

2009-12-26T21:25:00.000-08:00

Christmas Day 2009
Eve - 7, Cole ~ 13, Soleil - 3 1/2, Emerson - 9 1/2

My Christmas Birthday Girl

2009-12-25T00:48:00.000-08:00

Did you know Evie was born on Christmas Eve? Seven years ago, today? Indeed she was, and that's how she got her pretty name

So this year, to celebrate her day, we had a beach side birthday party complete with pinata and pina coladas. That was on the 23rd and today (I guess technically it was yesterday since it's currently way past midnight- merry christmas) she opened presents under her birthday tree, we went out to breakfast at "Rollie's" and then, per her request, she and I went horseback riding on the beach - just the two of us. She is such a delight and I am so thankful to be her mama. I love you, Sissy. Here are some highlights:

"A bunny? A begging poodle? A...Idunno. What? Oh, duh. A reindeer."

Those two could almost be twins.

My best Christmas present ever.

With Edgar.

I love this one.

Sissy - you get more beautiful inside and out every year. I am so lucky to be your mama. I love you so much. Happy Birthday.

P.S. I just checked NORAD - Santa's in Greenland. I'm off to bed before he gets to my house. Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas to Me

2009-12-21T16:46:00.001-08:00

Internet's back! And I take back everything bad I ever said about the Telmex guy. He did show up "manana" as promised and was able to track the problema. He's my new BFF. (You don't think it's weird that I saved his number in my cell phone, do you?)

Anyway, just wanted to say "hi" because I can. And here's a fun pick for your viewing enjoyment.

"gonna take it right into the danger zone...right intoooooo the Danger Zone"

All he needs are his aviators.

Manana

2009-12-19T07:56:00.000-08:00

Internet's down at our casa. And, in true Mexico form, the Telmex guy is coming to fix it "manana". We've been waiting for...a while.

Here's an uber fast update while we wait for the check at breakfast:

*Dave & Em are fully recovered from Dengue. Yeah. (And I am becoming quite skilled at mosquito hunting.)

*The kids are doing great in school...learning all the bad words Senora Hernandez never taught me in high school. Who knew.

*Dave is surfing his heart out whenever possible and his abs are delicious proof of his new favorite sport.

*Our casita (did I tell you we were building a little casita on our lot?) is coming along nicely. Lots of decisions to be made. Lots of trips to the Home Depot in Puerto Vallarta. (Apparently, there's no escaping the H.D. no matter where you live.)

*Me -- I'm trying to find my groove. Sometimes I feel like my entire existence is devoted to making sure everyone else is taken care of. And, currently, everyone is fairing rather well, and I'm feeling rather...well...like I lost my compass. Ya know? (And I'm embarrassed to admit that having no internet makes me cranky.) I think I need some Mama time. Maybe I'll try yogalates (but I'm scared). Retail therapy is always helpful...and more coffee (yeah, yeah yogalates is a far healthier choice...whatever.)

Anyway, thanks for checking in and Feliz Navidad!!

I'll leave you with this image that we used for our Christmas card this year. Click to make bigger -- check out Soli's face.

And, since some of you have already seen that one and I still have a good signal, here's a few more...

Cocos helados by the river.

The river that's also a road...

The view of Monkey Mountain at sunset from the master of the casita.

Tribulations of the Tropics continued...

2009-11-30T16:31:00.000-08:00

Dave and Emerson have Dengue Fever. The good news is that at this point it does not appear to be life threatening. That's a bonus. In fact, it seems that in these parts (and many other tropical areas) it runs rather rampant. Apparently, it is caused by a virus (actually one of four viruses) which is transmitted by mosquitoes. Lovely. Whose idea was this? Anyway, they've been sick for about five days and their symptoms are bad headaches, eye pain, and Emerson has had a fever, althouth they both seem better today. I became suspicious when no one else in the fam came down with the "flu". Then when I told another mom at school this morning what their symptoms were she said, "Dengue". Ohhh. It almost sounded like a swear word.

So we went to the clinic here in town, and the doctor said that it did appear to be Dengue. Luckily, neither of them are currently showing any signs of Dengue Hemorrhagic Fever which affects a smaller number of people and can cause serious internal bleeding and all kinds of other bad problems (that we don't need to get into, right?). So, I think that as long as it doesn't evolve into Hemorrhagic Fever then it's just a matter of time (10-14 days) while treating the symptoms, resting and drinking lots of fluids. So Emerson's out of school for the rest of the week and Dave has to try to take it easy, too. The doctor gave us two boxes of paracetamol (which I believe is a form of acetaminophen) to treat the symptoms as needed. (Did you know that public health care in Mexico is free? I wanted to kiss the floor - but I refrained.) Send healing thoughts our way if you're so inclined.

On the school front, I will tell you that the Honeymoon appears to be over. In other words, the novelty of a new school has worn off. Dave coined the following stages of adjusting to a new school: fear, excitement, resistance, acceptance. Towards the end of last week we started to see some of the "resistance stage". We heard the classic, "I don't have to go if I don't want to" and my favorite, "I'll homeschool myself." Cole had an especially hard time on Friday morning (they don't celebrate Thanksgiving in Mexico, of course, so the kids had school all week) so Dave sat in on a few of his classes which I think made Cole feel understood. I think it was helpful for him to see Dave communicating succesfully with limited Spanish. I think he had been disengaging in class because he was timid to try and communicate. He gained some confidence by watching Dave and seeing that even though he didn't speak perfectly he was able to communicate and no one made fun of him. And Dave was able to gain some insight into Cole's struggles and gave some suggestions on how he could be more successful in his classes. Yeah for dads. Already today we're starting to see signs of acceptance: "I don't really want to go to school today, but I'm going to." That's the attitude. And he had a successful day.

Emerson had a tough go at the beginning of the week because a "ginormous fifth grader" stole his collection of pogs right out of his hand while he was playing with some friends (the big kid also stole the friends' pogs). So he was pretty distraught (and I was peeved), but it gave us the opportunity to talk with him (Emerson's a rather docile fellow) about standing up for himself and not allowing himself to be bullied, using his BIG voice, etc. The other good to come of it was when Cole heard what happened he wanted to go to bat for his brother. He asked me if he could take Em to school the next day so he could "get it sorted". Nothing like a bully to unite brothers. As it turned out, the principal had made a new rule that pogs were no longer allowed at school and this boy had appointed himself pog sherriff and had "confiscated" the boys' pogs to turn them in to the principal. Brown noser.

Evie is adjusting very well. She has several little "best friends" in her class and she loves to take some pesos to school to buy little snacks and popsicles and aguas. On one of her first days she tried to buy an "agua" - one of the few words she knew - or thought she did. The lady gave her a juice because in Mexico an "agua" is a fruit flavored water - or a juice. She came home from school and said, "Mom, I asked for a water and she gave me a juice." We had a good laugh and now she knows. I went to school with her on Wednesday morning for an hour to see how she was getting by. Of course she loved having me in her class, and I was impressed to see how well she's getting along. She just does what the other kids do and copies into her notebook anything the teacher writes on the whiteboard.

And little Miss Soleil is totally flying under the radar. Being that she doesn't have school and she doesn't have Dengue the poor girl is just not gettin' any airtime. I might look into a little preschool after the Navidad, but the truth is, right this minute, I feel tapped out. I'm not prepared to handle the needs of another child adjusting to a new program. You know? Right now she is very happy hangin' with Mama and Daddy and we are just as happy to have her company. The other day I said to the gang as we were heading out the door, "Come on, Kiddies" and Soli said, "Yeah, come on Doggies." She cracks us up.

Thanks for checking in. H

A Great Day (except for that scorpion in the kitchen)

2009-11-20T17:34:00.000-08:00

So yesterday was Cole's first day at the middle school. Here in Mexico, elementary school (primaria) goes through sixth grade and middle school (secondaria) is 7th grade - 9th grade. Cole was bummed to find out that he would be in the youngest grade (again). We had picked up his uniform the day before, and it looks very much like his boy scout uniform - khaki pants and button up shirt with pink tassle on the shoulders to indicate his grade. The boys have to wear their shirts tucked in, but, apparently, leaving the shirt unbuttoned to display a stylin' t-shirt underneath is all the rage. We had learned this on our visit so Cole had prepared by cutting off the arms of his coolest T and laying it out the night before. Honestly.

Anyway, the middle school goes from 7AM-1:30PM. So yesterday morning I checked him in with the principal and then a nice looking boy, also with pink tassles, took him to the "Primer A" classroom. They distinguish between grades by calling 7th grade "first", 8th grade "second", and 9th grade "third". So the principal put Cole into the "First A" class (there are two 7th grade classes) which has another gringo. Yeah. The kids stay in the same classroom, and the teachers move from class to class. There really are no educational supplies or decor in any of the classrooms so any subject can be taught in any room. Very good. Anyway, when I dropped him off I told him I would meet him in front of the school at 1:30. So you can imagine my shock when he walked through the door of our house at 12:30. My first thought was he had hated it so much that he had jumped the fence and made a run for it. But when I asked him what happened he said that his last two period teachers were absent and since they don't have substitutes the kids had all walked home early. Oh my. It was like a 45 minute walk (up hill, in the snow...) and he was dripping in sweat. But, at least he looked cool with his cut-off, sleeveless t-shirt! So then I asked how his day went, fearing the worst, and he said, "It was soooo much fun." Oh yeah!! That was music to my ears, let me tell you. I have spent many a sleepless night over the last few months fretting about the potential negative impact of putting our kids in a total immersion situation. And the kids have been worried (of course) about going to a school where they understand nothing. Needless to say, I was delighted that he had had a good day. Phew!

And Evie and Emerson had a great second day and were both smiling ear to ear when we picked them up. Hallelujah! Emerson had discovered pogs (called tossles here). Do you remember pogs?? Anyway, they are all the rage down here with the primaria boys. So Emerson had traded a couple of his little finger flipper skateboards for a sweet little collection. Some of them are so well loved that the pictures on both sides are rubbed clean off. When we picked him up he said, "I love school in Mexico!" Oh yeah. Do you hear the symphony? And Evie can say her alphabet in Spanish. Yippee!

Today was Mexican Independence Day, and the kids had the day off of school (Emerson was so bummed). There was a big parade this morning and then dancing and food booths in the square. The kids were dressed in traditional Mexican folk clothing, and the middle school kids did a reinactment of the war against Spain complete with fire crackers and fake blood. Then they all sang the national anthem and saluted the Mexican flag. Very cool. Viva Mexico!!

So last night I was sweeping the kitchen and I swept a scorpion right out from under the sink. Yikes!! Great. I'm already sharing my house with geckos, now I have to cohabitate with scorpians? Unacceptable. BTW, it's amazing how having children can turn the gentlest of women into ruthless bug killers. I used to spare all varieties of creepy crawlies by getting a paper, coaxing said creepy onto the paper with encouraging words and then nicely setting it free outside. But no more. Setting them free outside does me no good because I have a half inch gap under all of my doors. They come back in! So I have been squishing spiders and centipedes and scorpions for the last four days with ruthless ferocity, for fear that they will crawl into bed with my kiddies. No spankyou! Not on my watch. Give this mommy a shoe! And that is exactly the fate that befell the scorpion in my kitchen. Ruthless, I tell you. And then we gave the kiddos a quick lesson in scorpion safety (always check your shoes before putting them on, don't walk around barefoot in the dark house, you know...the basics). Like we know anything about scorpions! Yikes. But according to our caretaker as long as you get to the clinic within a few hours of a scorpion sting for a shot of...something (what it is? epinephrine? I don't know.) then you should be OK. But, that only made me feel a little better. Maybe one of my Arizona friends can shed some light on the whole scorpion thing. Ladies??

Anyway, aside from the creepy crawlies we're doing great. Glad for the weekend. Thanks for checking in. ~Heather

All Things Considered

2009-11-18T19:10:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm happy to report that Evie and Emerson's first day of school was a relative success, all things considered. They looked darling in their uniforms this morning and they were happy enough to be dropped off at their classes. Their classmates were very excited to have new students which I have to say is a testament to the friendly and warm disposition of the people of Mexico. I helped Evie find a seat next to a friendly looking little girl named Jimena who towed her around all day and even bought her a popsicle at lunch (which, btw, happens at 10:30, as they get out at 12:30). Emerson's teacher sat him next to a boy who spoke some English which was very comforting to him. After we dropped the kids at school we were off to Costco (just like any other day in the states, right?) and to pick up Cole's uniform. I had to laugh as I thought about how easily we fall into our old patterns no matter what country we live in.

When we went back to school at 12:30 several of the kids that past us on our way to the classrooms asked if we were looking for Eva and Emerson (pronounced Emehrsone). I was so surprised to see how many kids of all ages seemed to know them. It was pretty cute. They both had a pretty good day. Evie cried a little at recess when she realized that Emerson didn't have recess at the same time. Ahhh. She'd been looking forward to seeing him. And Emerson got a little flustered right at the end of the day as he was feverishly trying to copy down the homework assignment. After school he said, "That was the worst four hours of my life! It was so boring. I didn't understand anything." Oh dear. But after a mini meltdown, we got the homework done, and I was impressed (he even surprised himself) with how much Spanish he had already picked up -- in just four hours.

Cole starts tomorrow and I have a feeling that he'll be in hog heaven - what with all the attention and the pseudo celebrity status. Here's to hoping...

Tribulations of Living in the Tropics??

2009-11-17T20:18:00.000-08:00

I picked up Dave's water glass this morning and brought it to my face to steal a sip. As soon as it was close to my nose, my olfactory senses sent up a red warning flag: "Abort mission! Abort mission!"

Me: "Oooh, Honey. Your water smells funky. Where did you get it?"

Dave: "The water cooler."

Me: "Hmmm. Maybe it's the cup."

He proceeded to slurp down the rest of his water and refill his cup at the water cooler.

Again I attempted to steal a sip. Again my olfactory senses would not allow the maneuver.

Me: "Pew! Babe, something is definitely wrong with that water. It smells like toilet water! I would not drink any more. Kids, don't drink the water from the water cooler."

He saw the serious look on my face and decided best to do some investigating. That's when he disassembled the water cooler and found a dead gecko in the base. Honestly. I almost ralphed, and I didn't even drink any infusion of gecko! Uhhhh! So absolutely disgusting. We're trying to flush the water tank after letting it soak in bleach all day. But the chunks of gecko guts that are coming through the tap are almost more than we can handle. Every water I drink tastes like dead gecko, and Dave still thinks he's having gecko burps. We may not recover.

Then...after our gecko incident we picked up some of our favorite to-go platters from "The Chicken Lady" with the awesome Chipotle sauce for lunch. I was absolutely famished (after having lost my appetite at breakfast time), and as I ravenously shoveled rice into my mouth I happened to glance down at my plate and low and behold.....a maggot!!!!! Uhhhhhh!!!! At least it was dead. And Emerson reminded me that they're good protein.

On a less disgusting note -- We visited the kids' schools today and they seem quite lovely. We got to meet Evie and Emerson's teachers (darling twenty-something gals with sweet dispositions) and the kids at the middle school seemed excited to have a gringo join their ranks. Cole even got some "knuckles" from a boy on the school yard and it warmed my heart to see that the "wuz up" hand shake appears to be universal. Evie and Emerson start tomorrow and Cole will start on Thursday. Wish us luck!!

We're Here!!

2009-11-16T16:16:00.000-08:00

We left Cabo yesterday morning and after a lot of barfing (at one point both the girl and the dog were barfing at the same exact minute) and an overnight ferry to the mainland, we've arrived safe and sound in Sayulita. Yahoo-oo0!! Our house (that we rented until April sight unseen) is delightful -- a little bachelorfied after the last tenant, but give me a few days and I'll have it sparkling. I've already got a load of laundry going (what with all the barfing on the way), Cole is waxing the surf boards, the girls found a big pile of dirt to keep them entertained, Emerson told me he can't wait to start school, and Dave already got the Wi-Fi hooked up. All's well. Thank goodness. Maybe now my stress headache will go away.

Thanks for checking in! And stay tuned as the adventure continues...

Hugs,

Heather

On Our Way

2009-11-11T08:42:00.000-08:00

After months and months of prep and packing we are officially on our way to Sayulita! We'll live there for six months, put the kids in local schools, teach ourselves to surf and build a little casita on our property. Why not, right? With Cole in 7th grade we know that all too soon our kids will want nothing to do with us and school and sports (and girls) will be more important to them than hangin' with their parents (as groovy as we are). So we are taking advantage of the fact that they still want to be with us more than anywhere else on earth (how sad to think that will ever end) and we're taking them on, what will hopefully be, the adventure of a lifetime.

We're in Cabo right now for our annual week of fun in the sun with the cousins. And I'm glad to say that after a four day drive south of the border, we are just about fully recovered. (Amazing the healing quality a mojito - or two or three- can have on Mommy's grated nerves.) And you would simply not believe the jalopy we're driving. There's really no describing it so I'll just post a picture. It's the quintessential Bajamobile and it has come to have a very special place in our hearts. It carried us, and six months worth of junk, across the Baja desert with nary a hiccup or hesitation. Hallelujah! I had nightmares of being stranded amongst the saguaro with four crying kids and a barfing dog (she gets carsick - honestly.). One of the biggest challenges of the drive (aside from all the barfing - Evie gets carsick, too) was the public restrooms at the Pemex stations along the way. Imagine no toilet paper, no toilet seat, puddles of whoknowswhat on the floor and really no way of gracefully positioning a six year old so she's not touching ANYTHING and the urine stream stands a chance of making it into the toilet bowl. Not pretty. So after one of our first pitstops I declared a new rule: all future potty stops would be road side -- far cleaner. Needless to say we spent a fair amount of time pulled off on side roads for varying lengths of time while everyone found their preferred patch of dirt. And as I was teaching Evie the art of the road side squat, I thought to myself, "This is so much more important than anything else she'll learn in first grade". And therein lies our motto for the next six months. We hope that the life lessons our kids will learn in Mexico will outweigh the lessons they will miss in their classes in the States. Ojala (hopefully).

The kids getting ready to go trick-or-treating in Mulege. In Mexico, (at least in Mulege) the kids say, "Tricky, tricky Halloween" as they go trick-or-treating mostly at little stores and shops.

"I think I see Cabo, honey!" Dave and the B.U.S. (big ugly suburban) on one of our many road-side pit stops along the Baja.

Emerson, Arizona, and Cole in the back row of the BUS. "Are we there yet?"

What to do with all that artwork that comes home from school.

2009-10-19T18:17:00.000-07:00

In our house, every piece of artwork that comes home from school is a masterpiece. But, really how long can you display it on the fridge? And then what do you do with it?? If you're my sister, you throw it away. But if you're me you may try recycling a master piece or two only to be seen, three days later, sprinting to the sidewalk in your bathrobe at 6AM, to rescue that glorious assortment of finger paint from the bowels of the recycling bin just as it's about to be hurled into the back of a dump truck. (Our trash man has no patience for me). Here's a much better idea:

As you know, most of the artwork that comes home is themed for a specific season or holiday. Save the best of the best and store it along with your holiday decorations for that season. Then when you go to decorate you will have some darling, homemade touches that are oh, so sentimental. The kids love it because you're displaying their handiwork, and you don't have to keep them up all year. Everyone's happy. See the jack-o-lantern? Cole made that in kindergarten. Be sure to put names and dates on the back. Happy Fall!!

*This idea brought to you by Mom, who every Christmas hangs the cutest handprint Christmas tree from when my sister was in preschool...20 years ago.

Sayulita or Bust

2009-10-13T19:56:00.000-07:00

Did I tell you we're taking the kids out of school, renting out our house, and moving to Mexico for six months? Well, we are. Leaving in 2 weeks. We're putting the kids in the Sayulita public schools and hoping they learn some Spanish. Total immersion. Are we crazy, you ask? I think so. Anyway, I'm swamped with all the prep, but I wanted to fill you in on our crazy plans.

Stay tuned...

Sayulita - February 09

Bathroom Chatter

2009-10-01T15:34:00.000-07:00

Have you ever noticed that the acoustics in public restrooms make every comment "whispered" by your 3 year old bounce off the walls like she shouted it through a megaphone? Well...

We recently took the kiddies to Disneyland. And, since we had a 3 year old in tow you know that we visited every restroom in every land at least once and some more than once. (My fave is the one right under Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, just as you leave the back side of Fantasy Land...almost never a line.) Anyway, during one such visit to one such crowded restroom, my darling 3 year old daughter, sensing the perfect lull in flushing toilets and running water (in other words, it was perfectly silent), decided that it was high time to ask the granddaddy of all questions...

"Mommy! Why you no have penis?"

The tiled walls reverberated her little voice back to me as I stared at her wide-eyed and scrambled for the right answer. You would think that after four kids I would be prepared with a quick response for that million dollar question.

But, no. I wasn't prepared and I must have stalled half a second too long making it quite clear to my darling 3 year old that I hadn't heard her the first time.

"MOMMY! WHY YOU NO HAVE PENIS LIKE DADDY?!

Please, for the love of Pete, someone flush a toilet!

"Well, Sweetie...you see...um....because....um....Mommy... is a mommy. And....um....Daddy... well...he's a daddy."

Gotta love 'em...3 year olds.

On My Mind Today...

2009-09-11T14:18:00.000-07:00

...my nephew, Gaige. (I'm so possessive. I guess, technically he's Dave's, too...and Rob's, and Kelly's, and Shane's, and Erica's.)

Dave is the middle son of three boys. The youngest brother, Steve, lives in Northern California with his wife and 3 kids. Steve's oldest child, Gaige, our nephew, has been having a pain on his right side just under his rib cage for the last seven weeks. They've taken him to see specialists, had all kinds of testing done, tried different treatments and nothing is helping and the pain seems to be getting worse. We've all been wracking our brains (and surfing the net late into the night,) and we're coming up empty handed. Needless to say, we're feeling very worried and frustrated and somewhat helpless at this point. Your prayers and healing thoughts would be so much appreciated.

Cole, Gaige, and Emerson - Cabo '08

*Also on my mind today...Teacher Robin and those who lost loved ones on 9/11. May peace be with them. May peace be with us all.

*And one more thing...Cole's off at the first dance of the school year. Guess what he wore...one of Dave's shirts...and it fit him. Now that blows my mind.

Quinoa Summer Salad

2009-09-02T16:41:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but whole grains intimidate me. I don't mean like whole grain bread or whole grain pasta which I think I have a handle on, I'm talking WHOLE grains. As in, freshly plucked from the grain or wherever they come from. Here's my typical MO: I see the whole grains in the bulk food bins at Whole Foods. I think to myself, "I'm gonna buy me some of that there grain and make me somethin' real nice (pronounce 'nass')." Apparently, I must think that in order to cook whole grains I need to live on the bayou. So I buy a big bag of said grains feeling quite proud of myself as I write the bin number on the twisty tie. Then the poor bag of grains will sit, completely ignored, on the pantry shelf for, say...three years, before I toss it out after convincing myself that surely it must be crawling with pantry mites or something equally disgusting. (Is there really such a thing as a pantry mite?)

You may remember that recently I visited Peru. And in Peru they grow a grain called quinoa, (pronounce "KEEN-wah").

quinoa growing in the Peruvian Andes

Have I mentioned that the food in Peru is amazing?? I mean AMAZINGLY delicious and quinoa is a staple in many a national dish. Upon returning home from Peru guess what I found in my pantry! A bag of quinoa that I had just purchased before my trip. I didn't even know what I'd bought. But now I had just enough confidence to try and make something edible with it. I knew it could be done. I had sampled the goodness just the week before. So I cooked me up a pot (there's that whole bayou thang)...and served it to my children for dinner. And they ate it! And asked for seconds!! I had broken the barrier of the whole grain (at least one of them).

Since then I've been experimenting and I have a recipe (with pictures!) to share.

To 2 1/2 cups cooked quinoa, add 1/2 cups chopped carrots.

Add 3-4 chopped chives and 1/2 cup chopped sweet peppers.

Toss in 1 cup of cherry tomatoes, 2 T chopped basil & 1 T chopped mint.

Oh my heavens, I wish you could smell this picture.

Add juice from 1/2 a lemon (squeeze through the seasoned fingers of a 6 year old for optimal flavor).

Add 1 T olive oil if you're feeling extra skinny. Or skip this step if your jeans are feeling snug. (You really won't miss it.)
Season to taste with Trocomare or Herbamare (all natural seasoned salt -no weird stuff- I get it at Whole Foods). *I love this pic with Evie stealing a taste of mint from the bowl. Yummy!

Serve with baked chicken and steamed broccoli.

Salud!

*disclaimer: Although the kids enjoy quinoa plain (or with milk and honey) they weren't ginormous fans of the quinoa summer salad. Dave and I, however, thought it was heaven on a fork.

**According to wikipedia: Quinoa contains a full complement of the amino acids which the human body can't produce itself, making it an unusually complete foodstuff.

Quote of the Day

2009-08-30T21:25:00.000-07:00

As usual, accredited to Evie...

The other day Evie and Soli went to visit our neighbor Gayle. Evie began to tell Gayle a story, and Soli, being the little parrot that she is, promptly began copying Evie's story and hand gestures, repeating the story just a few words behind the original still being told by her sister. Gayle looked down at Soli and said to her,

"Well, you are such a character."

And Evie corrected her with all seriousness,

"No, she's a Mexican."

Most definitely a character.
Our Soleil Mia 3 1/4
Zion National Park August 09

My Darling Husband on his 40th

2009-08-30T16:15:00.000-07:00

When Dave and I were first married and Cole was just a baby we lived and worked in Montana. My mother in law owned a cabin camp and we ran it for the summer and fall months. And I was depressed. Only now, 12 years later, can I really say that with clarity. I was depressed. And I felt so guilty for being depressed (even though at the time I really didn't call it that). And of course feeling guilty, in turn, made me more depressed. I hated that I couldn't snap out of it. That I wasn't strong enough to will away the sadness and emptiness. "What is your problem?" I would ask myself. "You have the perfect life; everything you've ever asked for. An adoring husband, a darling baby, a lifestyle that allows you to spend everyday with them. You don't have a thing in the world to be sad about. And shame on you for not feeling happy every single day." These are the tongue lashings I would give myself, which typically didn't help me to feel any happier. I adored my husband and my baby. I loved being in Montana. But still, I was miserable. It certainly wasn't a suicidal sort of depression, but it was definitely the kind that made me want to stay in bed...all day. And my poor, darling husband. Trying to do his job and mine with a baby on his hip, while his wife drifted further and further away from him.

Then one day he must have grown tired of feeling helpless. I remember him coming into our bedroom (it was probably noon) and gently lifting me from under the covers. He carried me to the shower and said simply,

"It's time to get up and start your day."

"I don't want to," I replied.

"I know. But, it's time," he whispered helping me out of my p.j.'s and into the shower. "You'll feel better soon."

I could hardly imagine that he could love me anyway. Even though I was so pathetic. Even though I didn't love myself. But, he did. He loved me more than ever. And he didn't give up on me. That day he washed my hair, brushed my teeth, got me dressed and then called his friend Jay, recently graduated from med school. Jay recommended that I get out everyday for fresh air and exercise. Get the endorphins flowing. So everyday that summer Dave would load my bike with the baby seat onto the back of his '64 Scout, and Cole and I would ride up and back down the West Fork and pick wild raspberries. The depression subsided and has stayed at bay ever since.

Every now and then I think about that day in Montana when Dave plucked me from my despair and helped me right myself. Thank you, my sweet. Thank you for being an amazing and brave husband and loving me unconditionally and walking this journey beside me.

I love you.

And happy birthday.

~H

Summer Catsup

2009-08-03T14:26:00.000-07:00

I've recently been made aware that it has been far too long since I've blogged. So here we go...a summer catsup.

We love our Daddy!! Father's Day 2009

Emerson's 9th birthday at the Santa Cruz Beach & Boardwalk was so much fun. Dave and I loaded up 13 kids (including our own) into two cars and took them to the Boardwalk for $10 admission night. We stopped at Costco for pizza and cupcakes on the way (I thought they might kick me out of the food court for lighting candles, but they didn't. In fact, everyone was thoroughly amused. When was the last time you saw a birthday party at Costco?). Then it was off to the Boardwalk where, on a Wednesday night, we all but owned the place. The kids walked on to almost all of the rides, only waiting in lines once or twice. It was a blast and only slightly more expensive than the cost of renting a jumpy house.
P.S. I love 9 year olds...almost too cool for picture taking, but not quite.

Who said you can't have a birthday party at the Costco food court??

My absolute favorite 9 year old on this planet. How darling is he?
Happy birthday, Em! We love you.

Stay cool, Dude.

We have the cutest little hometown 4th of July celebration. Our volunteer fire company puts on a 10K run, craft fair, and old fashion fireman's muster. My favorite parts of the day are the lemonade stand that my kids always do and the darling little hometown parade that goes right by the front of our house.

Cole was selected to play for one of our allstar baseball teams this summer. We were so proud of him and had so much fun watching him bloom. Our "A" allstar team made it to the Little League World Series! Go Toro!!

Camping on the Russian River in Guerneville, CA. I love it that our "house" always attracts all of the "neighbor" kids.

Me and Grandpa Fanch

Have I mentioned how much I adore my husband? And how cute is he? July 6th - 13 years and counting...

We rented a house and met my side of the family for a week long family reunion in Scottsdale, AZ. We had the best time ever. So, so fun.

Soli and Mimi poolside in Scottsdale. I love this pic of the two of them. How gorgeous is my mom?

My brother, Landon proposed to his long time girlfriend, Julianna. Congrats, you two! And welcome to the fam, Jules! We love you!!

What do you get when you add 2 grandparents+6 siblings+3 spouses+7 grandkids+afewtoomanymojitos? You get a whole lotta family fun (and a lotta karaoke/dance parties). Next year, Gang...same time, same place (or maybe a new place??)

After leaving Arizona, we headed north to Montana stopping for a looksee at the Grand Canyon on the way. Oh, and check out our new doggie. She adopted us while we were in Scottsdale. Guess what her name is...Zona; short for Arizona.

And since we normally do not go through southern Utah on our way to Montana we thought we would drive through Zion National Park. It just happened to be the park's 100th birthday on the day we were passing through. No admission fee for us!! We love that. Happy birthday, Zion!

I hope you all are having a lovely summer. Don't remind me that school is just around the corner...
Hugs, Heather

Corona, please.

2009-06-20T18:21:00.000-07:00

Have I mentioned that I love summer??

simply summer

2009-06-16T21:27:00.000-07:00

oh, how I love summer. late nights and lazy mornings. lemonade stands. little purple fingers stained from backyard olallieberries. barefeet. summertime songbirds at sun-up through an open window and then rolling over to snuggle with a special someone. ahhh, summer.

what's your favorite part of summer?

Discrimination Upheld

2009-05-27T20:47:00.000-07:00

Simply unacceptable. What else is there to say? Sorely disappointed in our sunny state. And that's twice.

Liberty and Justice for All.

Amen.

Something Sunnier

2009-05-18T09:03:00.000-07:00

Like my sunshine, Soleil Mia.

Would you believe it if I told you our baby princess turned three on May 7? Well it's true!! I'm pretty sure that makes her officially a "kid". No more babies for us?! Well, she's still sleeping in her converted crib and sitting in her high chair now and again, so I'll hold on to the baby status a little longer. (Although, between you and me I'm pretty excited to be done with the diapers, and bottles, and sleepless nights, fun as they were.)

We had a delightful after school party for her at the park across the street from our house. I sent out Evites on Tuesday for a Thursday party. Is that legal? My poor fourth child (and my poor friends - sorry for the last minute notice, girls). But, the weather was perfect and we had almost 20 kids (it helps that most of our family friends have 4+ kids). We had a jumpy house and a pinata, neither of which excited Soli much, but they kept the rest of the group entertained. Soli was happy sticking close to Mommy and eating as much watermelon as her little belly could hold.

Here are some pics of her day.

It's my birthday!

Mommy, Daddy and Soli

Come get some watermelon!! I love after school parties for many reasons. First, they don't interrupt a weekend. Yeah. Secondly, there's no meal involved. Set out some healthy snacks, throw around some cupcakes and you're done. Love it.

Emerson and Jarret

Soli and her little pal, "Boshing" (Boston). When I asked Soli what she wanted to do for her birthday she said, "Me hab potty at da pock wit my pends an' Boshing." translation: Me have party at the park with my friends and Boston. So that's what we did. Luckily, Boston was able to make it, otherwise we would have had to change the date.

Cole and Justin

Butterfly cupcakes.

Make a wish, Baby. (And try not to spit on the cupcakes!)

I love my Sissy.

Happy Birthday, Sunshine! We love you so much!
~Mommy
XOXO

Our Little Miss Piggy

2009-05-09T14:49:00.000-07:00

Dave, Morgen and me before Rob and Kelly's wedding August 1995

After Dave and I met in Guatemala (HERE'S the link to that story), we sailed Morgenstern (well, Dave sailed the boat, and I just tried to keep from puking - my job was harder than his, I assure you) back to Miami via Mexico and Cuba. We had to ask the Cuban immigration officials not to stamp our passports, as in, "If anyone asks, we were never here." I felt like a renegade. It was awesome. But that's another post all together. Anyway, in Miami, we were greeted by an oh-so-happy-to-see-us Bill and Connie (Dave's dad and his long time girlfriend). Dave had been sailing for 9 months in Central America and I had been traveling for 4 months. It was so delightful to be back in the good ol' U.S. of A. and to have our very own welcome party waiting for us right there on the dock. (Thanks for being there, guys. We love you!). After spending a week or so putting the boat back together Dave and I decided that we weren't ready for the party to end. So we decided to buy an old beater of a vehicle and drive back to California. Upon hearing our plan, Bill generously gifted us his Buick Sedan as he had recently upgraded to something fancier. We were stoked! (And I'm pretty sure I haven't used the word "stoked" since the 90's.) So we loaded our vehicle with all of our salty, worldly belongings which included 3 pairs of cut off jeans, our groovy, matching, tire-tread Huarache sandals imported from Isla Mujeres, Mexico, and maybe four Caballero condoms imported from Fronteras, Guatemala - btw, don't use those, they can't be trusted. (No, that's not how Cole was conceived, thankyouverymuch.) We slapped a bumper sticker on our jalopy that read "Places to Go, People to Annoy" (courtesy of the oneandonly Mark Weiss, great friend and owner of Morgenstern) and we were on our way.

We spent the next four weeks cruisin' in our land yacht, popping in and inconveniencing friends all across the states. Just kidding, I'm sure they were glad to see us and our salty cut-offs. It was a magical time in our lives. We drove and talked and drove and talked some more. For four weeks straight we took in the sights of our beautiful country and told each other things about ourselves that we never thought we'd share with anyone. We slept curled up in the back seat of our hooptie, parked at Rest Areas and deserted country roads along the way. Stinkin' romantic, that's what it was. And we fell in love. By the time we got to Montana, it was a done deal. We were hooked on each other. And we decided to get a dog, a puppy. Now, technically, Dave decided to get a dog as I was scheduled to reinstate my acceptance to Sonoma State University in the fall (which I had deferred for a year).

So we left Montana on a mission to adopt ourselves a puppy. It was a Sunday and although we past an animal shelter in every town between Cameron, Montana and Salt Lake City, Utah they were all closed on Sundays. I think it may have been in Pocatello, Idaho where we chanced upon a flier, just under the CLOSED sign at the Humane Society. It said there would be an Adoption Day this Sunday (indeed, it was said Sunday) at the local Petsmart. So we rushed our little highnies on over to the Petsmart only to be turned away by a mean spirited lady who wrinkled her nose at us (and our cut-offs) and told us we were unfit dog parents because we didn't have a home with a yard. Indeed, we didn't have a home at all, unless you count our land yacht (which, of course, we did). Besides, what we lacked in yard we made up for in heart. Couldn't she tell by all the love oozing from our pores that we were the perfect doggie parents? Our best efforts to change her mind failed miserably. So we tucked our tails between our legs and left that Petsmart feeling rather dejected and suddenly, rather homeless.

We pressed on towards Salt Lake, thinking that maybe a bigger town would have an animal shelter open on Sundays. Once in Salt Lake we pulled off the highway into a commercial area in search of a pay phone with Yellow Pages (remember those - attached with a metal cord?). We found one at a 7-11. As Dave thumbed through the Yellow Pages, my eyes were drawn to a piece of newspaper littering the sidewalk beneath the payphone. I picked it up and noticed it was a torn section of the Want Ads. As I scanned the paper, I saw an ad that read something like this:

Six week old puppies. German Shorthair/Black Lab mix. First shots received. $10.

My heart smiled as I handed the shredded paper to Dave. Less than two minutes later we had called the number and were on our way to meet our new puppy.

It was so hard to choose just one, but we finally settled on a squirmy, rowdy little female with soft, puffy fur and a chubby, buddha belly. She was so cute. When you would reach down to pat her fluffy coat she would instantly fall onto her back to get a belly scratch, kicking her feet in the air and wiggling from side to side. We immediately started referring to her as Little Miss Piggy because she was so fat and sassy. As Dave reached into his wallet for $10, the lady told us there was actually no charge; something about having to put a dollar value in her ad in order for it to be placed in the Classifieds. That seemed like good luck. I asked her when the litter was born. (I had every intention of throwing birthday parties, you know. Plus, I wanted to know her sign. Just kidding.) She couldn't remember exactly but said that it was right around May 18th, the day Dave and I had met. Cheesy, I know, but it seemed special to us at the time.

Me and Morgen - Salt Lake City, June 1995

Piggy cuddling with Dave in our Buick on the way to California.

Isn't it time for a walk? Maybe some tug-o-war?

With our new puppy safely tucked between us on the front bench seat of our trusty Buick, we left Salt Lake City, continuing on the road towards what would become our new life together. We would name our puppy Morgen which means morning in German (shorthair) and also paid tribute to Morgenstern which we felt indebted to for having housed us during our first weeks together. But she would never outgrow her nickname of Piggy, short for Little Miss Piggy, of course. I would bail on Sonoma State, we would get married, have a family, buy a house and start a life. And Morgen was with us every step of the way. Until today.

She died yesterday, here at the house with Dave and me cradling her face in our hands and telling her how much we loved her. We sent her on her way, whispering memories of Montana in her ear, consoling her as she made her transition. We like to imagine her with a healthy body loping through the high mountain grass flushing out birds and then pointing at them as they take to the air. Or swimming after sticks as they float down the Madison on their way to the ocean. Or barking impatiently, waiting for 2-year-old Cole to throw another rock into the West Fork so she can dive in and retrieve it. Or greeting another newborn, or playing fetch at the park, or wrestling with Pete (our lost cat), or napping in the sun-filled garden, or peeing on the floor because she is so excited to see us, home from a long trip.

Piggy loved a road trip. The longer the better.

Click to appreciate the stylin' cut-offs. You know you had a pair...or wished you did.

Piggy checking on me and Cole - 2 days old.

The story of Morgen is the story of us and we feel the void of her loss so painfully in our home and our hearts and our story. It's the end of a chapter. A wonderful chapter.

We love you, Piggy. Get the stick, Piggy. Good Piggy.

Morgen in Montana - summer 1996

Pictures of Peru

2009-05-01T08:40:00.000-07:00

An early morning in San Francisco. Peru or bust. Ready or not, here I go.

View of the Andes from the airplane on the way from Lima to Cusco.
P.S. The in country flights on LAN airlines were perfectly comfortable and not at all the single prop aircraft I had envisioned in my nightmares. I would guess 737 airbuses? I was delighted.

Here we are, Ellen and me, on our first day checking out Cusco. What a beautiful Spanish colonial city with lots of Catholic churches built atop Incan temples. The Spanish were shameless that way. You can see behind us the Catholic monastery in the background and the gray ruins of the Incan Sun Temple in front of it.

This is coca tea. Coca tea is drinken (drunk?) all over Peru to stave off altitude sickness. Cusco is at an elevation of almost 12,000 feet above sea level. Coca leaves are from the Coca plant which is used to make cocaine, Lidocaine, Novocaine, and is an ingredient in, believe it or not, Coca-cola. But it sure did the trick against altitude sickness. We had our cup of coca tea every day (with a generous spoonful of sugar) and we were symptom free the whole week.

Here we are on our way to the market in Pisac. Ellen and I met 14 years ago in Costa Rica whilst studying Spanish. We then traveled all over Costa Rica and Guatemala where I subsequently met my darling husband. I hadn't seen her in 13 years and had only been halfway diligent about keeping in touch until we were reacquainted thanks to Facebook.

A woman selling yarn dyes in the Pisac market outside of Cusco. Market pictures are my favorite.

We loved our afternoon cappuccino and cafe con leche. Jack's in Cusco served up an especially beautiful display.

This dog and his pet monkey were quite a darling sight in Ollantaytambo. Apparently, they are inseparable and the monkey even holds on for dear life while his master is....shall we say....indisposed.

Ellen and I thought this mountain at the Incan ruins in Ollantaytambo looked just like the profile of an Incan warrior.

Our day at Machu Picchu was mystical even though it was rainy and foggy making the mountain views significantly less dramatic then they can be. We felt a little sorry for ourselves (but only a little) until we found out that the next day the park was closed because the professional guides were on strike.

Orchids growing wild at Machu Picchu.

We hiked up Hauyna Picchu which is a small mountain within Machu Picchu with even more ruins and stunning views of the ancient city below. It was very foggy almost the whole climb up but right when we got to the top, the fog cleared for just a moment affording a fabulous view of Machu Picchu. In the picture above you can see the river far, far below the steps that I am standing on. It was hairy. And amazing to think that these hardworking people had carried each and every stone up that mountain to build their city in the sky.

Another wild orchid at Machu Picchu.

See that mountain rising from the mist in the background? That's Huayna Picchu. We climbed to the top of that peak. We were pretty proud of ourselves.

The food in Peru, particularly in Cusco was so surprisingly and unbelievably good. This is a shrimp salad with grilled mushrooms, grated coconut, seasoned tomatoes, and an amazing mango vinaigrette. With the unbeatable prices for gourmet dining, Ellen and I fancied ourselves food critiques for the week. We tried all of the country's specialties including Alpaca steak, fresh ceviche, lomo saltado (like a beef stir fry), sopa de quinoa (did you know quinoa originated in Peru and is a staple grain here?), sopa criolla, and the Peruvian favorite, cuy (guinea pig). We had a hard time stomaching the cuy although it was plenty tasty (like the dark meat of a chicken) so we had our plate wrapped up and gave it to a woman begging on the street. We found that far more enjoyable than the meal itself.

If you click to make this picture bigger you can see the heard of rare Vicunas at a watering hole behind me. Not long after Ellen took this picture, the alpha male of the herd came and ordered his brood away from our offensive looking tour bus. Then he jumped up on a boulder between us and his herd and gave us "stink eye" until we left. The snow capped mountain in the background is, El Misti, an active volcano outside of Arequipa.

This mountain top "facility", at almost 15,ooo feet above sea level, is little more than a hole in the ground with crisscrossing boards for "balancing". Oh, and, BTW, it's strictly BYOTP.

We took a two day/one night guided tour to the Colca Canyon from Arequipa. The Colca Canyon is twice as deep as the Grand Canyon and is the home to some 50 giant condors. We were lucky with the weather and were able to observe at least 15 of the graceful (if not somewhat ugly) birds riding the thermal currents in the canyon.

Click to fully appreciate the condor "cuteness". This condor had a 10-12 foot wing span. Did you know condors live to be 100 years old? And then when they can no longer feed themselves (condors are scavengers) they crash themselves into the canyon wall ending their life before they starve to death. Whoa.

And just like that our week in Peru was over. The best part for me (aside from the amazing food) was having a week to get reacquainted with myself. Not me as a mom or me as a wife, but just me. And it was delightful to meet that person again after all these years.

P.S. Dave - You're an amazing husband to let me go have this adventure. I love you so much. Next time, let's go the two of us. ~H

Arrived safely!

2009-04-19T21:35:00.001-07:00

Thanks for all of your wishes for safe travel. Ellen and I are at our hotel enjoying a Pisco Sour - the national drink of Peru. Thanks for checking in!

You May Remember...

2009-04-17T20:36:00.001-07:00

...my dear friend Ellen from this post about the day that Dave and I met. Ellen and I traveled to Guatemala together after meeting at language school and traveling all over Costa Rica. Well, Ellen sent me an email in February asking if I wanted to go to Peru with her to check out Machu Picchu and travel through Latin America like old times. I wrote back and said, "Yes, I do and thanks for asking. What are the dates?" As it turns out the dates were perfect and I chanced upon a screamin' deal from San Francisco to Lima for $425. Dave gave me the green light and just like that, I'm going to Peru...leaving the day after tomorrow (Sunday).

You really just can't pass up that kind of awesome opportunity...right??

This is what I've been trying to convince myself of for the last 3 weeks as I stare at the ceiling, not able to sleep, thinking to myself, "You have four kids! You can't go traipsing haphazardly around South America like you're 19 again! What are you thinking?!" Oh dear.

We'll be flying on three small planes during the week and the thought of small aircraft in the Andean updrafts of South America has me a little sweaty (to say the least). I actually came to the cheerful realization that if something happens to me at least Dave will be able to raise the kids. Honestly! Isn't that morbid? But, I was actually able to sleep after that. Uggh. The things we put ourselves through.

Anyway, please send thoughts of safe travels my way over the next week or so. And maybe you can throw in a couple for Dave as he juggles lunches and laundry and baseball, oh my!

Check back for pics next week.

Did I tell you...

2009-04-10T16:43:00.000-07:00

...that we were taking the kids to see the Grandparents in Miami and cruising across the Gulf Stream to hang in the Bahamas for Spring Break? Well, we're here in Bimini having swam with the rays at Honeymoon Harbor yesterday. Hopefully, we'll get a chance to partake in the Junkanoo festivities before heading back on Sunday. Now before you go getting all envious on me just keep in mind that it's not all sunbathing and pina coladas. Imagine kids barfing across the Gulf Stream, generator on the fritz, flip flops overboard, a dead dinghy motor, oh, and eight people stuffed onto 42'. Don't get me wrong, we cherish every single opportunity we get to hang with the grandparents and to go boating with our kiddos, but just be reasonable before you think that the ocean is always bluer on the other side of the Gulf Stream (although, it really is). See for yourself...

I could watch this man tie dock lines all day long. Nothing sexier than a man in his element. Am I right?

Soli "snorkeling".

"Even though I'm 12, I still love my dad."

"Someday I'm gonna tie dock lines just like my dad." And his wife will adore him for it... (Ugh. That was hard to type. I actually wrote it, deleted it, and then wrote it again. Someday he'll be married?! Alright, that's enough. Next pic...)

My little mermaid.

I'm pretty proud of this shot because, you see, I had to use the manual focus. Whoa! Big step for me! Watch out Flickr (they must have some great pics on that site because they can't spell for crap...).

We couldn't resist playing "Titanic" on this shipwreck off of Bimini's south shore.

Favorite After School Snack

2009-03-13T21:05:00.000-07:00

Popcorn is one of our favorite after school snacks lately. And I'm totally into popping my own (you know I'm always striving for that elusive "Mom of the Year" Award - I may not be able to make my own Waldorf toys, but I can at least pop my own popcorn, right??). Besides, haven't you ever wondered what exactly is in those bags of microwaveable popcorn? You know, that greasy part that makes it so yummy? What is that?? I don't know...but, I tell ya, the more I learn to read labels the more of a food snob I'm becoming.

Anyway, popping your own popcorn is way fun and here's how you do it:

*in a skillet heat up 1-2 T of olive oil over med-med/high heat
*add 1/2 C popcorn kernels to hot skillet
*stir kernels coating them with oil and spreading them evenly in pan
*cover the pan with lid (important!) and agitate the pan with back and forth motion
*continue until all popcorn is popped
*season with any of the following: melted butter, sea salt, rosemary, trocomare or herbamare (excellent all natural seasonings with no weird stuff), parmesan, brewer's yeast (that's what my mom used to put on our popcorn when we were kids). Sometimes I use coconut oil instead of olive oil and season with a sugar/cinnamon mixture for a yummy, kettle corn flavor. Anything goes!

P.S. How fun is my new blog background?!

The Best Little Fishing Shack in Montana

2009-03-09T23:19:00.000-07:00

For starters, let me just say that I was successful in getting a handle on my laundry. Key word: WAS. Because, the thing about laundry is: IT'S NEVER ENDING! So I had a handle on it, for like, 7...no...8 hours, and now it's totally out of hand again. But, this time it's really not that funny and the kids dumping out the basket to find...who knows what...not that cute. Honestly! If I wasn't so irreplaceable, I'd fire myself.

But enough about that.

Let's talk about our cabin on the Madison River in Montana. It's affectionately known as The Fishing Shack, and it's for rent, you know. Available now. Almost booked up for the busy summer months. Yippee! And for those of you who were with me during the building phase I wanted to post some pictures now that it's totally done. You know you wanna rent it...

A River Runs Through It. Imagine Brad Pitt out there with a fly rod in hand...

Almost all of the furniture (and decor) at the Fishing Shack came from a Craigslist ad out of Bozeman. A family was selling their second home and all of the furnishings that were in it. My darling husband, being the savvy businessman that he is, negotiated a smokin' price for EVERYTHING in the home. And I mean everything. Dining room furniture, bedroom furniture, living room furniture, linens, dishes, pots and pans, toilet paper, bikes, window treatments, washer and dryer, hangers, cleaning supplies, everything. He rented a Uhaul and packed it all up. They were out of state and couldn't have been happier to have the place emptied. Love Craigslist!

Cozy Kitchen

Master bedroom - I did buy all new bedding and towels, just for fun.

One of the two upstairs bedrooms. Dave made the log bunkbeds.

Looking down on the Living Room from the stairs. Check out the barnwood floors from the ceiling of an old Montana brothel - the Choteau House. If ceilings could talk...

Christmas 2008

*My Blog readers get a little discount: rent 6 nights get the 7th night free. Here is the link to the VRBO site:
The Fishing Shack

Laundry Folding Party...Tonight...My House...Be There!

2009-02-25T15:50:00.000-08:00

I should be folding laundry, but I thought just to take a picture of said laundry and write about it on my blog. An entirely more proficient use of time, I think so.

So, the repercussions of having been out of town for 3 weeks are mountainous quantities of laundry upon arrival home. Now, I realize that I have been home for a solid week, and, really, I should be entirely caught up. But...you see...well...um...

I guess I really have no excuse, especially since it was almost all clean when we packed it up in Mexico...

Now, you may notice from the picture that our laundry facilities share a room with our two small daughters. You'll perhaps recall that this was not listed as one of the top ten things I love about my small house. And, I daresay, if ever I start to feel sorry for myself about this arrangement (which is almost never, as I scarcely have time for feeling sorry for myself over such frivolity as laundry rooms) I simply send up a "thank you" to the Laundry Gods who make it possible for me to "do" laundry in the comfort of my own home as opposed to the nearest river and scrubbing rock.

I had to chuckle when I saw the state of all our clean laundry looking as if it had been rooted through by a herd of little piggies, looking for clean panties in the barnyard. Ahem.

I hope this picture makes you chuckle and makes you thankful for your washer and dryer (and laundry room), should you be so lucky to have such heavenly pieces of machinery. Amen.

I'm off to fold laundry.

Scratch that.

I'm off to have cocktails with my girlfriends. Laundry can wait, I say.

Continue rooting, my little piggies.

*Addendum: My dear friend Angie asked, quite nicely, if I might explain exactly how the laundry facility came to find itself in the girls' room. So here you are:

When we first bought our house (remember - it's a hundred years old) there was a laundry room attached to the kitchen. This "laundry room" was originally a back porch that had been enclosed at some point (probably in the fifties) to accommodate the washer and dryer. This enclosure made the kitchen very dark as one of the exterior windows and the window in the original back door no longer brought in any light (does that make sense?). So we opted to tear down the wall between kitchen and laundry room making a big, beautiful, bright, sunny kitchen (now there are big windows on both ends of the kitchen). But, this left the question of what to do with the laundry machines. Well, at the time we had only one, very small boy named Coleman who was just two years old. And being that we practically had a mansion, what with three entire bedrooms and all, we thought to put the laundry in the "extra" bedroom with the guest bed and the office, like a utility room. This arrangement worked very nicely until we had our third child of the baby girl variety. So the guest bed and our desk got the boot and the "utility" room became the "pink" room. We have no garage (they didn't have cars a hundred years ago, you know) so we really have no where else for our laundry machines to go until we do a major house remodel. And the truth is, it just doesn't bother us...until Mt. Laundrymore gets out of hand, that is!

Don't you hate it when...

2009-02-25T09:23:00.000-08:00

....you accidentally link your blog to a fellow blogger's site before reading the rules of the "contest". Upon reading said rules, you realize that you were supposed to write a clever "don't you hate it when" post on your own blog before posting the link on fellow blogger's blog. Sadly, you're on your way out the door and can't think of a single clever thing to write in 2.5 minutes, and suddenly you find yourself all flushed and sweaty. Oops. That's embarassing...

Home Again, Home Again

2009-02-21T17:25:00.000-08:00

Well, I daresay, we miss Sayulita somethin' fierce.

Dave's ready to sell everything and move there full time. I'm ready to rent out our house and spend 6 months there next school year. Either way, we're both feeling the need to shake things up.

It's good to be home, too. Don't get me wrong. What, with all the laundry and the baseball and the dreary, rainy weather. What's not to love? (I really do love it all, even though I feel a bit like I'm drowning in baseball at the moment - whose idea was it to let all three of the older kids play this year?? Honestly.)

The kids went back to school on Friday (I couldn't bear to send them on Thursday even though we got home late Wednesday night - I just wasn't ready).

The good news is that being gone for that length of time makes it clear to me the things that need to be changed in our house. For example, our filing system needs to be completely cleared out and rebooted, if you know what I mean. Do I really need piles of receipts from 10 years ago? I think not... The living room needs a little splash of color, the dvd's need a more permanent home, and I think some flowering branches would be lovely in my Gramma's vase on the buffet in the dining room. Oh, and that magazine rack with all those old magazines that I think someday I'd like to read...the whole thing's gotta go...including the rack. Want it?

On the agenda for tomorrow? Purge, Baby, purge. Wish me luck - it's not easy for me to get rid of STUFF...even if it is all C*R*A*P.

P.S. Check out my refreshed bloglist in the margin. I added some of my new favorite blogs. These women are AMAZING, I tell you. Truly inspiring. As in, "grind-my-own-peanut-butter-and-make-all-my-kids'-toys-Waldorf-style-while-homeschooling-and-running-a-ranch-oh-and-taking-perfect-pictures-of-my-amazingly-beautiful-children-while-grilling-the-perfect-steak-and-keeping-up-my-blog" inspiring. Ya know?? I just wanna get rid of some magazines...

Packing Up

2009-02-16T22:45:00.000-08:00

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Ahhh....

We head into Puerto Vallarta tomorrow for a night on the town and then we fly home Wednesday afternoon.

Our time in Sayulita has been simply wonderful. A few of the favorites:

*Breakfast at Rollie's

*Surfing with our kiddos

*Oatmeal

*Sunning at the pool

*Hide and Seek in the Plaza

*Peanut butter crackers "A la Evie"

*The candy man

*Seeing a baby leatherback turtle

*Fresh made doughnuts on the beach - yummy.

*Standing on our property at sunset

*Burritos at the Burrito Revolucion and seeing a picture of Obama painted on the wall above the word "CAMBIO" - CHANGE

*Coronitas con limon y sal

*Letting the kids stay by themselves at the Arcade in the Plaza

*Meeting so many delightful people and running into friends, Claire and Sandy, at Rollie's

*Robert's Bakery (his brownies...oh my.)

*Body Surfing (that was Dave's favorite)

*Pollos Yolanda (you just can't beat a full plate of chicken, rice, and coleslaw for 25 pesos - $1.80)

*The fabulously favorable exchange rate (14.5 pesos / $1.00 U.S.)

*Sketching ideas of the casita that we'd like to build some day on our land

*Visiting the ultra groovy Costa Verde International School (they do yoga every morning, drool...)

*Hearing the kids try out their Spanish on tentative tongues

*Making plans to come back next year...for longer.

Thanks for checking in.
~Heather

Feliz Dia del Amor y Amistad!

2009-02-14T20:07:00.000-08:00

In Mexico (and Guatemala and many other Latin American countries) February 14 is called El Dia del Amor y Amistad. This translates to Day of Love and Friendship. When I was 19, I spent Valentine's day in Puerto Vallarta where I was going to an intensive language school. I was entirely single, and I appreciated that I was still included in the holiday. A friend bought me roses and a group of us went out to dinner and dancing to celebrate. I'm all about inclusivity.

Here are some pics of our Dia del Amor y Amistad:

Valentine goodie bags with I-tunes gift cards.

Happy Day.

Pile o' hand made cards from the kiddos. There's pretty much nothin' sweeter.

Emerson's journal

2009-02-11T07:45:00.000-08:00

* A guest post from Emerson who was tired of writing in his own journal...

2/11/09

Yesterday I went to a new beach. I had to cross a cemetery to get to the beach. It was cold at the
beach. We got to open a coconut. My mom got us a donut.

a family's mosileum

overlooking the surf break and Sayulita beyond

* A note from Mom: We took a walk to Playa de Los Muertos (Beach of the Dead). The beach gets its name because you have to walk through the cemetery to get there.

Jesus is Dead in Mexico

2009-02-10T20:57:00.000-08:00

We have the darlingest little plaza here in Sayulita and it has the darlingest little church you ever did see. I walk by it every day on the way to my morning cup of happiness. Pathetic, I know, but my morning coffee simply makes me smile. But, back to Jesus...

Often, the girls will accompany me on my jaunt around the block, and when we pass the church they will invariably ask, "Mama, can we pleeease go in and see Jesus?" And, as I am usually on a mission for a "cafe Americano con leche, por favor", I will dissuade them by saying, "Maybe on the way back."

So, on the way back, they will again plea for a peak at Jesus. And, if the coast is clear, we'll go in and sit in the stillness for a few minutes on the first pew. The other day as we sat in the church, gazing at the statuette of Jesus on the Cross, I was reminded of a time when Cole had just turned four...

Dave and I had taken the boys (Emerson was 18 months) on a camping trip down Baja. We had stopped in the charming little town of San Ignacio. There is a very beautiful, old mission there, and we had stopped to check it out. When Cole saw Jesus on the Cross above the pulpit he asked:

"Mom, is Jesus dead?"

"Yes, sweetheart. Jesus died a long, long time ago; almost two thousand years ago."

"Oh no. Mom, can I borrow your cell phone? I have to call Kieran* and tell him Jesus is dead in Mexico!"

Poor kid. He was honestly beside himself, and it took quite a while for him to grasp the concept of 2000 years ago. But Dave and I had a good chuckle, and I smiled to myself on the first pew as the memory played out in my mind's eye.

Kids say the darndest things...

What's the funniest thing your kids have said??

*Kieran is our neighbor friend and was the center of Cole's universe when he was four.

Two Years Ago Today...

2009-02-09T15:52:00.000-08:00

We touched down in San Francisco and our new baby girl was a U.S. citizen. The kids and I had spent the previous two months in Antigua while we waited for her adoption to be finalized. We had an awesome time in Guatemala; a time that we will always remember with fondness. But, boy, was it great to be home...

Surf's Up, Sayulita

2009-02-05T20:09:00.001-08:00

Check us out....

We have access to this sweet, old long board and we've been taking it out every day after "school" to see what all the fuss is about...

Cole, instantly a natural.

We were so excited that Emerson caught a wave. He was so cute on that big, ole board. Click on this pic and check out the dog swimming in the surf.

I got to surf with my kids on my birthday. And I caught my first wave. Sweeeeet.

I don't mean to brag, but this man gets hotter every year...

Happy Birthday to Me

2009-02-03T20:32:00.000-08:00

Thanks for borning me, Mom. I love you. ~H

February 1976
(How cute is my mom?? She was 21 when I was born -- at home, by the river, in Carmel Valley, California. Totally groovy.)

2009-02-02T20:40:00.000-08:00

Evie boogie boarding with Daddy. Look at the smile on that little face.

Brothers...there's just nothing better. Click to make bigger to fully appreciate the brotherly cuteness.

Dave and Cole returning from a rescue mission - two teenage girls caught in a riptide. He was a life guard in his high school/college years - smokin' hot, if I dare say.

Catchin' a wave - like old times.

Home schooling - at its finest.

Flowers in my hair, curtesy of Evie. One of the many reason I love having daughters.

What can I say?

My beautiful beach comber.

Ahh. I love this picture of Soli. Simply gorgeous.

Oh-oh that smell! Can't you smell that smell?

2009-01-29T13:47:00.000-08:00

Well, I should really be finishing the unpacking what with the baby sleeping, homeschooling done for the day, and kiddos playing happily with Daddy in the pool....but, alas, such a perfect atmosphere for blogging. Unpacking can wait, I say!

So many fun things to write about!

First, Cole has made a full recovery. Thanks for all your well wishes on his behalf.

Secondly, have you been to Mexico?? Do you know that smell? That delicious smell that to me says, "Ahhh. Mexico." I've been trying to pay attention and pinpoint exactly what is involved in this fabulous combination of olfactory delights. It's not a floral smell, like Hawaii. It's a much richer, earthier, muskier fragrance that almost has a texture to it. Let me try to describe:

It's a blend of ocean and burning organic material, with a touch of exhaust and leather furniture, carne asada on an open grill, a splash of mildew, and a healthy undercurrent of warm dirt.

"Ahhh. Mexico."

Do you know this smell I speak of?

view of town and ocean from our balcony

Mexico Lindo

2009-01-27T19:46:00.000-08:00

We're here! We arrived safely this afternoon and are now cozied into our little apartment on the hill. And is Sayulita ever delightful! The balcony doors are open with waves crashing, babes sleeping, geccos chirping, Daddy snoring softly, Reggae drifting up from the plaza, and the breeze humming along sweetly. Life is good.

On a less delightful note, Cole has the flu with a temperature of 103.2 (pre-advil). He started feeling badly today, about half way to Puerto Vallarta. Evie and Emerson had it over the weekend and missed school yesterday. The good news is that we had a small window of opportunity (about 24 hours), between sick kids, to travel. Evie and Em had made a full recovery by yesterday afternoon, and we got here this afternoon just in time for Cole to crash out. It's one thing to be sick at home (any home), but being sick in the airport and on the airplane...well, that's simply no fun at all. So, I'm feeling rather thankful that he didn't have to deal with that (much).

I'm off the recheck that temp...poor kid.

Thanks for checking in,
Heather