This is the Last One...I Promise

I think this is the forty-sixth blog about our vacation and I promise it will be the last.  After all, we've got college football, first days of school, colorful leaves, soup recipes, and an exciting selection of books to explore in the days to come!

I have a few pictures left to display which will serve to bring my telling, telling, and re-telling of our days in the sun to a close.  Ahhh...

Without further adieu, here are the pictures. I'm confident that a theme will develop...

 

Monday evening.

 

Tuesday morning.

Wednesday afternoon.

 

Thursday evening - after 2 full plates of food.

 

Friday morning.

 

Friday afternoon.

Also Friday afternoon

(thought you might be getting tired of baby pictures).

Saturday morning.

 

Sunday afternoon.

 

Tuesday afternoon.

 

Tuesday evening.

 

That's it.  That's all.  I'm finished with vacation tales and pictures. . .

except for the one of...

 

Molly, sleeping on the 12ish hour trip home.

What? She's not asleep in the picture?

That would be because she really didn't sleep on the way home.

No kidding.

Feed Your Faith...Not Your Fear

It has been a long standing issue between my Man and me.  He claims that when we travel, I read and he chases.  I read three books a few years ago while on a weeklong vacation and from that time forward, my reputation for being a responsible on-vacation-parenting partner has been shaky at best.

This year as we traveled, my intentions were to clean up my act and do the chasing while my Man did the reading.  However, an unforeseen opportunity knocked on my door while I was packing our vacation bags--Max Lucado appeared on my doorstep.  Not Max himself, in the flesh, but in the form of his latest book Fearless. 

With the noblest of plans I tucked this book into my bag o'books and tried to forget about it.  The picture on the cover was so inviting with that young child jumping, carefree off of a boat dock and into the unknown waters below, flippers flying freely.

I wanted to read a book that boasted such freedom.  I was intrigued by the subtitle: "Imagine Your Life Without Fear".  I have a fear or two...and yes, I'd like to imagine my life without them so...I pulled the book from the bag and dove in, much like the child on the front cover!  By the time we had "wheels on road," I was six chapters in.

And really, you would've been too with Lucado's language just coming at you, straight off the page, into your brain and wrapping 'round your heart.  When I hear that a book has cut straight to the heart, I imagine it to have cutting points and counterpoints and be delivered with dogmatic fervor.  While Fearless does get effectively to the heart, there is an absence of fierceness and of dogma.  Instead, the author gently, but firmly takes the reader by the hand and leads him or her to confidently encounter fears of the everyday ilk and fears of gargantuan proportions.  

Tackling the fears of disappointing God, of running out, of not protecting my kids, of violence, of death, of doubt, as well as many others with gentle humor and heartwarming stories, Lucado successfully helped me deal with my one or two or thirteen fears.  Always leading me to Scripture with a gentle prod and showing me that Jesus can handle what I'm afraid of, Max taught me, "Feed your fears, and your faith will starve.  Feed your faith and your fears will." So true. 

One of my favorite chapters had Max in a fighter jet, while another dealt with Monopoly money.  The chapter dealing with the "do-me-a-favor Jesus", the "Jesus-of-my-politics", and the "make-me-a-buck Jesus" spoke volumes to me as well. 

I not only enjoyed this book, I benefited substantially from its content. It's been sometime since I've read a book by Max Lucado, but it won't be a long time until I read another! 

The Beach by the Numbers

Some numbers to deter you you need to know should you ever desire to head to the beach with four children and two adults.  (You may find it helpful to begin humming The Twelve Days of Christmas at this point.)

1 very large beach bag filled with . . .

• 25 or so sand buckets, shovels, sand molds (in the shape of Sesame Street characters and sandcastles), a set of floating spongy toys, 3 pairs of goggles, and 1 set of water wings.

2 beach chairs with attached foot rests (why the footrests were important I cannot say as my feet only rested on them one time).

1 small backpack containing:

• 2 cell phones ( I don't know if we thought we'd get a call on the beach or if I felt it necessary to be prepared to call in reinforcements if the need arose!
• Really, I wanted to call my sisters and gloat, "Oh, I'm sitting in my beach chair with my feet up, reading my books while the children are participating in a sand sculpture contest and My Man has just arrived with Ben & Jerry's to enjoy on the beach...What are you doing?"  None of which really happened, especially the reading of the books and the ice cream...but wouldn't it have been tooo wonderful...)
• 3 books (Max Lucado's Fearless; Julie Powell's Julie & Julia, also a recent movie; and Something Missing by Matthew Dicks)
• 4 regular diapers, 2 swimming diapers, 1 mini bottle of baby powder (for sand removal--works great!), a pack of baby wipes, and two pacifiers.
• 1 camera
• 1 bottle of sunscreen for re-application
• 1 wallet

1 umberella stroller

6 huge beach towels

1 bag filled with numerous baggies of pretzels, cookies, crackers

2 boogie boards

1 blow up baby "boat"

4 "cover ups" to cover swim suits en route

1 lime green cooler filled with:

• 8 sandwhiches
• 1 lunchable
• 7 cans of soda/pop
• 2 juice cups
• 1 banana

6 pre-sunscreened bodies ready for a day at the beach

1 blue and white beach umbrella and its anchor

1 beach blanket (for napping children--ha!)

120 minutes spent on the beach (and a partridge in a pear tree).

Glamour Girls (part two)

When last we left our young girls they were about to experience their first “make-over” or “gingerbreading” or “icing”…

After choosing matching tee-shirts with a simple pink crown and the word “Princess" on the front, the girls were ushered into a dressing room to change. Their faces shone with anticipation as they walked with purpose toward the “make-over area”, which was a sight to behold with its low table, miniature stools, and star shaped mirrors that leaned toward the girls’ faces much like the petals of a flower bending over a vase.

Kate and Meg chose their stools of glory and the purveyors of glitter and glamour began their work. Meg’s treatment began with an application of fingernail polish topped with a healthy dose of glitter.

It was hair first for Kate who had chosen an intricate style that I was fairly certain could not be successfully accomplished by the sixteenish year old young lady who had signed on for the task. I know well how difficult it is to arrange Kate’s hair in a simple, every day style. One has to be a contortionist to keep up with her bobbing and weaving during the event.




Wrong again!

Meg’s hair do was also a styling success. When each girls’ hair was finished, another dusting of glitter powder was applied to their heads for effect (I am not kidding-more glitter).

I was amazed, impressed, perplexed…

Bear in mind--these styles took less than 20 minutes to accomplish! Also note, each girl’s hair was still holding a solid “do” after having been slept on and taken swimming the next day. Must’ve been the glitter.

Meanwhile, in the back of the store, Cole and Darrin were keeping a very wiggly Molly busy. Actually, a very wiggly Molly was keeping Cole and Darrin busy.




Poor girl, she had no hair to style…but eventually, she came across something that would suffice.




Cole spent what time he wasn’t herding Molly trying not to brush up against any glitter—no small task in Sparkles.



Molly was covered with glitter—glitter by association. That glitter powder was the only frilly thing on Molly that night as I had dressed her in blue and white.

This (and her unfortunate lack of hair) caused many folks that evening to call her “little guy”, “buddy”, and “fella”, much to the consternation of her father.

Leaving the land of glitter and all that is pink and lovely, we entered a store in which one could assemble a toy car. (I would love to show you a picture of this but after Sparkles, my camera was flashing the message “camera battery exhausted”—really, is it any wonder?).

As we strolled into this ultra masculine realm, one of its ultra masculine workers looked closely at our gang of four. Glancing toward Cole and the glammed up gals, his gaze rested on Molly, ever sparkly, in her stroller and said, in a Rocky Balboa-like tone, “Poor little dude, his sisters got ‘im all shined up.”

It was more than we could take.

I think Cole laughed the hardest.

A fun evening, enjoyed immensely by all.

The girls felt glamorous, Cole had successfully escaped being glittered, and Molly had made a new friend.

I even invited the “glitter artists” from Sparkles to visit us at that very special place we find ourselves each and every Sunday morning…

...our bathroom—to help me get the girls ready for church!

Glamour Girls (part one)

The sign above the door said "Sparkles." Each girl who enters is asked to make a wish and is then dusted with a glittery powder which is sprinkled liberally with a very fluffy powder puff. Once the glitter clears, a world of pink and purple and crowns and jewelery and flip-flops and mirrors and hats and boas beckons. It was a young girl's dream. We were doing the classic "just looking" on our first trip into Sparkles when a "glitter duster" handed us a pamphlet touting the various make-overs available to the girls. After giving the piece of paper a quick glance, I dismissed it and caught up with Kate to make sure she hadn't gone into sparkle shock.

Apparently, just as I was dismissing the list of make-over options offered by Sparkles, Megan was digesting it in its entirety. After another full day of swimming, we loaded up the van and set out for another adventure. Not yet ready to let go of the last night's adventure, Meg began to pepper her conversation with tidbits gleaned from the Sparkles pamphlet. What might the merits of the Princess make-over be versus that of the Rock Star. How long did we think a make-over would last? Wonder, she did, if her hair, freshly trimmed for vacation, would be long enough for the Movie Star up do?

In her wallet was money earned from summer reading -hard earned- and she didn't want to spend it frivolously. It seemed that all of the accessories included in the package made it worth the price, she reasoned and wondered aloud if we agreed.

As her Dad steered the family van back to the scene of the previous evening's powderfest, we agreed to go in and let Meg ask her questions to those with the answers (and the powder puffs) and then let her make an informed decision, albeit in a glitter powdered haze. After a few questions and more than a few minutes of consideration, Meg decided to go for it and selected the Princess Deluxe. This particular package included having your hair done just like the picture of the little girl in the pamphlet, your nails polished, and eyeshadow and lip gloss applied. In addition to all of that royal treatment, you got to keep the make-up (thank you very much) and choose a tee shirt and five accessories which were added to your pink string back pack. Also, you scored a "gift" of your choice to commemorate your evening.

While I agreed that one did seem to get a lot of bling for her buck, I just couldn't help thinking (quietly and very much to myself), that this whole event, aimed unabashedly at young pre-teens, or "tweens," should not be called a "make-over." A make-over implies that the original wasn't good enough and so must be "re-attempted". Since tween girls (mine anyway), are still in their "original packaging" free from the bonds of make up and beauty regimens, it follows that nothing really needs to be made-over. Perhaps, in this case, it should be called a "gingerbread-ing" just as we refer to the extras on an already attractive home that cause it to stand out. I'd even go for "icing" as in the adding of some extra sweetness atop an already delicious cupcake. How about "a bag of chips" as in "all that and a bag of chips" which implies that the object is all ready super and yet it comes with even more.

Whatever I chose to call it, Meg was about to experience it and so was Kate.

(To be continued...)

The Almost Nearly Perfect Marriage

Recently, I finished reading a book that would normally not have been “up my alley”. The book, Rick & Bubba’s Guide to the Almost Nearly Perfect Marriage, caught my attention in the bookstore I think because of the contrast between the cartoon angels on the frilly cover and the title which sported the words “Rick & Bubba”! It turns out that Rick and Bubba are New York Times Best-Selling authors of at least five other books including Rick & Bubba’s Expert Guide to God, Country & Family, and Rick & Bubba for President: The Two Sexiest Fat Men Alive Take on Washington. Who knew?

This amusing book contains very, very short chapters that will make you grin, as you find yourself identifying with these two MOWs (Men of Weight) about the all important subject of marriage. Working my way through each chapter I was drawn into the “world” of these two morning radio personalities as they delivered their entertaining ancedotes and punch lines. I soon discovered that each time Rick & Bubba caused me to grin, they followed with a more serious, and important, biblically-anchored precept concerning various joys and struggles faced by married couples. What an effective way to get one’s point across, soften with humor, then sneak in the lesson.

Every bit as entertaining as the stories Rick and Bubba relate, are their lists! The book is worth the read if only for the nearly two dozen lists which include: “Rules of Engagement for Women/Men”, “Rick & Bubba’s Top Ten Love Songs”, and “Top Ten Baby Names When the Mom Chooses/When the Dad Chooses”.

If you need a book to handle the deeper, more troubling issues of marriage, this is not the book for you. However, if you are looking for a fun book that will cause you to take a fresh look at marriage, your own in particular, I highly recommend Rick & Bubba’s take on the matter!

She's One!

Happy Birthday, Baby!
We just couldn't have been "us" without you!

Oh My, Oh My, Oh My. . .

She was simply...

overwhelmed.