What I really meant to say was...

This morning, both my boys got up with their alarm clocks.

And by alarm clocks, I mean me tramping down the hall and telling them to get up.

They proceeded to cheerfully shower and get ready for school.

And by cheerfully, I mean fight about who had to take a shower first.

After much negotiation, they finally both had showers, and headed downstairs to quietly make themselves some breakfast.

And by quietly, I mean wake-the-dead-loud.

McKay is in a smoothie phase right now, and there's nothing I love more than hearing the blender crunch up ice at six in the morning.

And by love, I mean hate.

I hugged them both, handed out lunches, and waved as they went out the door. Then I promptly began to exercise.

And by exercise, I mean crawl back into bed and fall asleep.

An hour later, it was time to rouse the little Hannah. She woke up in her usual cheerful way.

And by cheerful, I mean hate-the-world-grumpy.

She quietly ate her breakfast while I made her lunch. She then calmly styled her hair and got dressed.

And by calmly, I mean with many tears. Her hair was "too fuzzy" (her words) to do anything with today. There might have been some silent cursing on her part.

And by silent, I mean slamming of doors and loud sighing.

I dried her tears, fixed her hair, and dropped her off at school with a bit of melancholy in my heart for the loss of her company.

And by melancholy, I mean joy.

I then plotted out my day and began my work ahead.

And by work, I do mean climbing back into bed yet again and ignoring it all.

Realizing fully how annoying this post will be to everyone but me

I am desperately trying to get caught up around here. Step one in that process has been uploading the nine million photos I took on our little trip to the west coast. Step two (which seems to take hours) is editing, narrowing down, and posting them here for your my viewing pleasure.

The Husband works for a consulting firm which has a family retreat every year. Though I joke with him that it is ofttimes like The Firm, it truly is a great place to work. The family conferences are held in a different city each year, and the amenities are always ridiculously lavish. This year, the San Diego conference was no different.

Internet, feel very sorry for me.

We stayed in a two-bedroom, two-bath suite that quite literally was on the beach. I fell asleep every night to the sound of the waves lapping up on the sand. I sat on a beach chair every day and watched my babies exhaust themselves with sunshine, laughter, and togetherness.

It was heaven.

And for the sake of grandparents and posterity, I leave you with a few photos of our time there. Keep in mind, that I could have taken these same photos every single day, as our life was on a recurring loop of wake up, play at the beach, fall asleep, repeat.

With maybe a few meals and a sea kayak expedition thrown in between for good measure.

It pained my heart more than a little bit to board the plane and return home to my beach-less existence here in Missouri.

It seems totally unfair to get a taste of paradise, only to have to leave it again.

Probably almost as unfair as, say, posting obnoxiously about your beach vacation to the internet?

(Touche, Stie. Touche.)

Blessed

Mother's Day for me was one of the best. With church at nine a.m., I woke early to breakfast in bed and four smiling faces. The presents they gave me were much more than I deserved and proved definitively that diamonds really are a girl's best friend.

Leaving for church, I glanced behind me with a smile at the spotless kitchen that I had nothing to do with cleaning.

Lunch and dinner were made while I sat on the couch in my bare feet with the iPad. Diet cokes were topped off and treat samples brought to me for tasting.

I tried not to laugh too hard at the sight of the Husband decorating the coconut cupcakes. Somehow a pastry bag does not look very much at home in his big hands. But they were as delicious as they were beautiful.

I was pampered and loved, and felt utterly appreciated.

These four fantastic people in my life are a miracle. I love them with the whole of my heart.

The greatest idea ever invented. Ever.

Last week, I shared with you the Husband's brilliant idea for spring break. Remember how I told you we handed our kids a pile of cash and told them they were in charge of what we did over spring break, and any remaining money at the end of the week was theirs to split three ways? That idea. [For better details, click over to the link.]

Anyway, I am here to report our success. And what a success it was.

The kids set a goal to only spend half the money, leaving the last day of spring break as a shopping day where we would hit the mall and they could buy whatever their little hearts desired with the rest.

Which, thanks to budgeting and prioritizing on their part, they were able to achieve.

For once, I was not the entertainment committee. And I was not stuck home, listening to whiny kids beg for something to do. In fact, they didn't whine or fight once. NOT ONCE. We ate out several times. We saw a movie. We had friends over. We snuggled up together in my big bed and had movie nights. We went bike riding. We (or I should say they) went fishing. And, at the end of it all, they got to shop for something new.

Though, the interesting thing to note was how much less willing they were to buy things when the money was their own. When it's me shopping at the mall with the Husband's my money? They want everything in sight. When the cash has to part out of their own grubby little hands? Not so much.

Here are some highlights of the week --

At the zoo with their BFFs where, clearly, they did not have any fun:

The photographer's son taking approximately 900 pictures in three hours, and all of them animals:

Don't you want to come over and look at slides from his vacations?

We had three days of near 80 degree weather, so we took advantage of that and went on several bike rides (as my very sore heinie can attest to. Yikes. How do people ride bikes? Tour de France? I am thinking Tour de Pain in Your Pants):

Even the Husband got in on the fun with a little basketball at the park:

It was seriously such a great week. So great, in fact, that we are planning on implementing this new idea over summer vacation and on any future trips we take.

I highly recommend it. It just might change your life the way it has changed mine. My children's travel agency is officially closed. Yay!

Snow day

The call comes in early this morning, the one we were waiting for. I listen to the recording with a smile on my face, and hear two sets of feet immediately climb out of their beds and pad softly down the hall to my door.

Even in the darkness, I can see their anxious looks. A nod of my head, cheers from their lips, and a stern shhhh, lest they wake up their sister. I pull the warm blankets up and feel the pull of sleep. I give into it with a grin on my face.

A couple of hours later, I stretch and yawn, relishing in my laziness. I ignore the scale, for surely today it shouldn't count, and slide my feet into the worn, fuzzy slippers. I shuffle downstairs, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and pull my hair into a ponytail.

I bypass the sugar cereal with a sigh, and reach instead for the heart-healthy fiber one. I sit and read a few blogs, relishing the unhurried feel of the day. Downstairs, the sounds of Bear Grylls float up from the tv, and I smile, thinking that they likely will reenact later whatever insanity shown them. I laugh thinking that maybe even they'll film it.

Next on the schedule is a very clumsy, short-winded run on the treadmill. I think of this newly returned pleasure in my life with a deep sense of gratitude, for the healing that has taken place in my body. I have desperately missed the one thing in my day that makes me feel like me. I am not whole unless I can sweat and strain, working this gloriously imperfect body, pushing it to the limits.

What also tells me that I am, and forever will be, me is the mental note I make WHILE on the treadmill to whip up a batch of chocolate chip cookies.

I finish the run, and look in on my babies. They are snuggled up under a warm blanket, laughing together over a Calvin and Hobbs. The phone rings, and it is the Husband, calling to be a part of it all. I regale him with the exciting stories from our short morning. He chuckles and sighs, wishing he were in town to share it with us.

I take a deep breath, as the tears threaten to spill over, and I thank God for the blessing of this beautiful, imperfect, amazing life he saw fit to trust me with.

I have everything I ever wanted.

And I never want to take it for granted again.

Thanksgiving 2010 (Also known as: Gluttony is Awesome)

Guess what? So it turns out that there is this crazy thing called "The Internet." And on "The Internet" there are these wacky things called "Blogs" where people keep a record of their everyday lives, showcase their family activities, and post for all the world to see on a daily basis.

Did you know that?

Isn't that amazing?

(One would think I'd never heard of it, the way I've been posting around here. Or NOT been posting.)

Well, I am back. I had a most excellent Thanksgiving, and will now proceed to bore you (The Aforementioned Internet) with photos and updates of my goings on. Feel free to click off and hunt for free p@rn unless you are:

a) a relative (and even then I might understand)
b) one of the 16 people featured in the pictures
c) a stalker who can't get enough of me, no matter how boring my posts become

We had quite a crowd here for the holidays, and it made my heart sing with joy. There is nothing more fantastic than sharing the sacred gluttony that is Thanksgiving with people I love. We had two of the Husband's brothers, their families, and the in-laws come to stay (for a total of 16, ranging in age from 64 to 14 months).

There was much eating. A lot of card playing. A couple movie viewings. A little sleeping. And definitely some more eating.

(There was also a computer virus, a flood in the car, and a minor vehicular accident. But who's counting the bad things, anyway?)

The best thing I did all Thanksgiving day (besides eat my weight in coconut cake) was hand my camera off to a brother-in-law. I tend to find myself preoccupied on days like this with the cooking, and do not always remember to do the picture taking. I am so grateful.

What would my crazy stalkers have to look at otherwise?

It was the best weekend, and my house seems far too quiet without all of them here. Anyone ready to come back?

Best. Thanksgiving. Ever.

Because there's nothing worse than reliving other people's vacations, right?

Though we've been home from our trip to Boston for almost a month, I am finally getting around to editing the pictures I took there.

Why so long, you say?

Well, for one thing, I had eight corporate head shot sessions and a private family session that I did while we were there. Not to mention the 2-3 sessions per week I've had since we got home. Staying up until midnight every night editing does not necessarily entice one to want to work on pictures that no one is paying for.

But as I looked through them, it really brought the trip back and made me so happy that we went. Like this picture, for instance, taken on the top floor of Faneuil Hall.

You know, the top floor where there is a museum.

Which I never knew existed during the six years we lived there.

Frankly, because there was no way I was hauling a stroller up three flights of stairs to have one of my children break something historic again. So in all that time, I never once ventured to the top. Which is quite sad. Because honestly, they don't make light this gorgeous just anywhere.

I also discovered this photo hidden in the mix:

Which tragically (or luckily, depending on your point of view) is one of three pictures taken of me this whole year. We were walking the Freedom Trail and paused to rest in the courtyard outside of the Old North Church. I set my camera down on the bench beside me, relieved to be free from the 900 pound weight that it is, and McKay picked it up and started snapping. Granted, there are a lot of very blurry pictures of his feet and Chase's face, but this one really stood out and made me happy.

And we have several token touristy photos in the bunch, as well. Which really are photos only a mother (or grandmother) could love.

But I will end with this one, which might be one of my favorites taken on the trip. We had been walking for several hours in the heat and she appeared at my feet, begging to be carried. Not realizing, of course, that my days of carrying her ended as soon as she decided to sprout legs as long as the state of California.

But I like her heat-flushed cheeks, windblown hair, her baby freckles, and the tired sparkle in her green eyes. The imploring expression that is just seconds away from saying, "Mom..." followed by a plea of some sort. It's a face I've seen a thousand times.



And a face I'm sure to see a thousand more.

How to have a spontaneous vacation (and survive it)

The poor gator we brought back home with us. Yes, it's totally real.

As you have no doubt been reading ad nauseam, we took a little trip down to Naples, Florida last week. It was completely a spur-of-the-moment thing, turned out to be fantastic --and was absolutely worth it.

I learn a lot every time we take a trip anywhere, and this one was no exception. Thought I'd share a few things I learned with you, in case you find yourself in a similar situation.

1. Don't be afraid to say yes. When your husband says, "I am going to be in Florida for an extended business trip, want to come?" Say yes, even if you are afraid you will not get cheap flights at the last minute. Say yes, even if it is the last week of school and you will have to pull your kids out, forcing them miss most of the fun parties, field days, and concerts. Say yes, even if it seems like an insane thing to do.

For when you sit under that beach umbrella with your husband, watching your babies play in the surf, you will both turn to look at each other at the exact same moment and say, "IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT."

Besides, airfare will be surprisingly cheap. And kids won't necessarily care about the parties at the end of the year. Family memories and time together will last a lifetime. They are only this age once.

2. Do not be afraid to check the rates of very fancy hotels that you think you cannot afford. We stayed at the Ritz Carlton for $119 a night, people! That's cheaper than most of the crappy hotels NOT on the beach. It was five-star service at a two-star price. I would have been content to stay anywhere, but the Husband's tolerance level runs a wee bit higher. We hit the city of Naples off-season, and had the beach and hotel wait staff to ourselves. It was heaven.

[I'm also slightly afraid that my children are ruined for life. You can't stay at the Ritz and then ever stay anywhere else without being terribly disappointed.]

3. Do not be phased by emergencies that come up. During our five-day stay, we had one emergency room visit, one urgent situation requiring help from a physician back home, one child pass out due to heat stroke on a hotel boardwalk, and a supposedly waterproof mitt failed - leaving one child's cast soaking wet and full of sand.

For most people, these events would absolutely ruin the trip. For us, it was pretty much normal fare for a vacation.

Sadly.

But a few doses of antibiotics quickly took care of the ear infection that sent us to the ER. Some ice, water, and juice took care of the heat stroke. A late night conversation with our physician back home solved an otherwise nightmare situation. The soggy, smelly cast was removed when we got home and replaced with a removable brace. We took it all in stride, and figured it wasn't worth getting upset about.

Slightly annoyed maybe. But not upset. We were back on the beach and in good form - hardly the worse for wear.

4. Give yourself permission to put down the camera and watch your babies play with your own two eyes. Pictures are treasures that can help preserve the memory, but it is also important to be a part of making the memory yourself. So many times I miss things because I am busy photographing them instead of doing them. This trip, I did not make that mistake, and I have no regrets for the small number of pictures I took.

Instead, I made sandcastles with Hannah and hunted for seashells. I dove through waves with McKay and Chase. I raced the Husband (and lost) on a kayak in the middle of the ocean, laughing as the salty water shot up around us.

And not once did I feel anything lacking.

The trip was heaven and I'd do it again. And again. And again.

How's tomorrow, in fact?

One for the sibs

One added bonus at the baptism this past weekend was the presence of both sets of parents (and one lovely cousin who braved a solo road trip with four kids to be here). We felt showered by lovely rose petals from our family tree.

Using Mother's Day as the ruse, I begged the parents and in-laws to sit for a mini photo session - and true to their good natures - they humored me and obliged.

I thought they were all so cute and it warmed my heart to see familiar faces through my lens for a change.

I share these here so that siblings near and far can sneak a peek and share in the fun, too.

The in-laws:

And the parents:

These I love

I love it when they sometimes crawl into bed with me first thing in the morning, the smell of sleep still in their hair. They curl their warm, lazy bodies next to mine and together we talk and dream of what the day will hold.

I love it when they turn up the music loud and entice me away from the computer or the dishes to dance and sing with them at the top of my lungs. More often than not, it is music from my era, and part of my soul rejoices in knowing I have brainwashed them into loving the 80s.

I love it when they give me hugs. For no reason at all.

I love it when they surround me for a family movie night. Feet and legs tangled beneath blankets, we watch and laugh together. Popcorn or cookies are shared. It's times like this that I can even pretend I don't mind the crumbs.

I love it when I see that their pants are too short or notice wrists and forearms sticking awkwardly out of shirt sleeves because that means they have grown. And it makes me so happy when they do what they're supposed to.

I love it when they dance and laugh in the rain because daddy said yes after I said no.

I love it when they look me in the eye and ask my opinion on something because they think I'm an expert. Even when it's math that totally goes over my head.

I love it that they love me.

I love them with every particle of my being.

And every night when my head hits the pillow, I thank God for trusting me with these three perfect souls.

Happy mother's day, indeed.

Contentment

I was watching my kids play in the snow last week. I watched their red cheeks, stretched tight with cold and laughter. The snow balls flew through the air, and their bodies pressed angel-shaped into the snow-covered grass. Confetti clouds of white were tossed against the bright, blue sky. Shrieks of bubbly laughter surrounded them like a thick blanket.

And then the question creeped into my mind, ever so softly.

When exactly did I grow up?

I don't remember it happening. I just know that it has.

No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to pinpoint the moment that dipping my face into the snow sounded less like an adventure and more like torture. When did I decide that a snowball in the face is not the least bit funny? When did it grow so cold out that I chose to watch instead of play?

I think it happened so gradually that I hardly noticed it.

There was a time that I was the one with frostbitten fingers, tossing snowballs at my brothers' knitted caps. I was the one who donned moon boots and a striped coat, and stayed outside for hours -- returning to the house only for lunch or a quick cup of cocoa. I was once the one who made snow angels and tossed confetti clouds of white against the sky.

My days now are filled with schedules, carpools, laundry, and dishes. I have bills that I pay. I have a car that I maintain, and a house that I own. I have worries, stored up in a tired mind, that always seem to unleash themselves the minute my head hits the pillow.

I am the one who locks up the house at night, and climbs into bed in the dark. Nobody checks my closet for monsters or tucks me in with a kiss.

I am now the grown up.

Every once in a while, I miss the little girl who liked to have that kind of fun. But mostly, I sit content with myself now. Watching over my little snow babies from the warmth and security of a soft chair by the window. Looking up from my book now and then to laugh with them. Hurrying to ready a warm cup of cocoa when I hear their boots stomping in the garage.

Because the little girl I once was? She never knew what it felt like to warm the hands of her babies, listen to their laughter, and find that she loves them so much it hurts.

If she had, I'm afraid she might have been in a much bigger hurry to grow up.

Fare thee well, 2009

I am breaking radio silence here at Casa de Stie. (I know. Try to contain yourselves.)

We have had a lovely holiday break, and plan on making the most of the few days we have left. It has been just a fantastic week - lots of movies, books, games, naps, and food. The Husband has been TOTALLY off the grid. We have only ventured out of the house for movies, absolutely necessary grocery store runs, and church. It's been positively heaven. I could stand this life all year long.

Of course, my house would be a wreck.

But it'd be nice to live like this a little more often.

Today I have been pouring over my photo archives -- reminiscing and laughing, cringing and critiquing. And what I decided was this: 2009 was very kind to us. So much so that I find myself on my knees in gratitude and sheer wonder at our good fortune. We've had our challenges, as every family does, but we successfully wound our way through another year -- learning, laughing, crying, and loving.

Here, to ring in the new year, are the highlights from our family. In photo form.

Happy new year, indeed.