Happy Birthday, Happiness

Dear Darling Daughter,

Well this got awkward.

You found my blog and have been reading your birthday letters.  So instead of being something I wrote that went out into the ether, this is now something you're going to read. In real time.

First off, happy birthday.  You start thinking about your next birthday the night of your current birthday (so tonight you will start planning for your 16th).  You truly enjoy birthdays and I hope you never lose that joy of having a day to celebrate you and all that you are.

But you should celebrate you every day (not with gifts, don't get greedy).  You personify resiliency.  You have shown great strength and perseverance since a young age and I continue to marvel at.

You started at a new school last fall.  You wanted to attend a co-ed school after three years at an all-girls school in part so you would have peers to look in the eye.  At 6'2" you were tired of being the tallest human being on campus and now have tall guys in the mix in your classes.

You also wanted to try rowing and this new school has a low-key team.  You walked into the boathouse the school uses and found other super tall people from other schools and programs.  You found a sport that celebrates your height that doesn't involve running (basketball) or jumping (volleyball) both which aggravates your knees.  Last month you tried out for a competitive club program and now row six days a week.  It's a level of intensity I didn't think you were ready for and once again you are showing strength and perseverance as you deal with really nasty blisters, throwing up after intense 2Ks on the erg, and sore muscles.

I shouldn't doubt you because you personify resiliency.

I hope you never doubt yourself.

Happy Birthday.

I love you,
Mom

Dedham Rocks - Apple Picking

So I'm back writing because there is this terrific blog in my town (or, as we say "wicked aswesome" blog) that gets me to write the things I love about my kids' school and the town were I live. Who knew this is what would get me back on the blog saddle?

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Oakdale Elementary School recently had the annual first grade field trip to an apple orchard. All four classes - nearly 75 students - pile into two school buses to travel an hour to go pick apples, eat a brown bag lunch and enjoy cider donuts.



This is not only a part of fall but a school rite of passage. For at least a decade Oakdale first graders go on this field trip, to Honey Pot Orchard, on similar yellow buses and fill their clear bag of apples. Plus pick an extra apple to eat while walking along the trees.



This was my first time being an "official" chaperone - meaning I had the honor of riding the big yellow bus with the kids and the teachers. But it was my second time going to the orchard with a class of first graders from Oakdale (another tradition is Oakdale parents will follow the buses in a caravan of cars/vans to join the fun). The first time I went one of my twin sons lost his first tooth in the orchard. While biting an apple. We found the tooth sticking out of the apple. It is still being talked about to this day....



There were farm animals, simple machines (a perfect recap of this week's science lessons - I got a full explanation of how levers work from one of my daughter's classmates), and the incredibly popular cider donuts.



Mrs. Ward said, as we bounced on the bus, how important this trip is. How it brings the students together, students who will become middle schoolers and high schoolers and creates shared memories. And as I looked at the turning leaves through the clean bus window there were shrieking voices. Little children singing, yelling as they bounced in seats, and seeing horses, stone walls and fall leaves from their own windows.

They were making memories.

Wish list

Shot on Sunday. A new theme by Mo'Jenn.

Accompany

Performing, with help from a 2-year-old cousin.

Instant ancestors

As the classic American holiday that celebrates family descends upon us I'm reminded of this photo I took with Ambassador when we went to Charleston, SC.

Instant ancestors. Who would you like to claim?

Hanging green

Shot on Sunday. A new theme by Mo'Jenn.

Shot on Sunday

Shot on Sunday. A new theme by Mo'Jenn.

Pirouette with that kick

The last game for the season was played by a team of kindergarten girls this past weekend. Coached by three high school students (with some backup by a player's dad) they were a force to be reckoned with.



Well most of them. One particular 5-year-old, the one related to me, would often end a kick of the ball with a perfectly pointed toe which would have made her ballet teacher proud. She never seemed terribly focused on the ball, often twirling or looking out to the sidelines for a wave. During the last game she ran off the field for a hug. She ran off the field while the ball was in play.



When given the choice of playing in a soccer game to going to ballet class, there was never any doubt she would be in a leotard and tights instead of shin guards and cleats.



But the morning of her last game, my daughter announced she "loves soccer!!" and plans on playing it forever.



I think she was just psyched to get a movable arms trophy.

One down for the count

Like everyone else with school age children, I have been worrying about flu shots. The boys got seasonal flu vaccines during their annual physical last month but not the H1N1. Little lady hasn't gotten either.

But it may not matter. Yesterday evening, one little man developed a wicked cough and fever. At 4:00 this morning he graciously added vomitting to his list of ailments.

Last night, he wrote out the following schedule for his sick day.

1. have breckfist
2. get mom's cofe (coffee) and my skoan (scone)
3. eat the skoan
4. charg DS
5. play DS
6. tack a nap
7.

We'll see what #7 is.

What is your post-Halloween candy policy?

The day after Halloween, the big city newspaper ran a piece about different families' post-Halloween candy policies. What to eat the night of. What to keep afterwards. What to throw away.



After about an hour of walking around the neighborhood collecting candy on Halloween this past weekend, one of my boys held up his bag and announced he had enough. We headed home, checked all the wrappings and let them eat four pieces of candy. After that it is two pieces after dinner. None goes to school in the lunch boxes. In previous years, the candy lingers for weeks until they forget about it and I take the leftovers to my office. Usually a little after Thanksgiving.



What do you do? How do you manage the candy? Do you think that leaving it around leads to hoarding and/or stealing? Or do you think it teaches restraint?




Curious minds want to know.

The Newest Member of our Family

Hello world,

Cannot tell you how long it took to finally get my paws on the keyboard.




The humans think I was born in January of this year, somewhere in Virginia. They also think I'm part black lab and some type of hound. Maybe a coonhound. Like the one banned from Nantucket last week.



I was found wondering around and brought to a shelter. One that would kill me if I wasn't adopted in so many days. I'm afraid of any floors that are white. The humans I live with think that is because I was scared in the Virginia shelter.

In the Virginia shelter different humans found me and drove me for a long time to a different type of shelter. One that would let me live until the right humans found me.

And the right ones came to the shelter when it was warmer outside (I'm told it was July). The little ones crawled into the crate I was in while I hid in the corner. The bigger human (he's really big) liked a different dog. One that jumped and crawled all over the little ones. But those little ones just kept saying they wanted me.

They wanted me.

So here I am. With my family.



from,
Zeke

Fourth Annual Fluff Fest

This weekend, which was partly spent on soccer fields and ballet studios, was also spent in the neighborhood that created Fluff - that distinctly New England foodstuff. Australia has Vegemite, New England has Fluff.

This year's Fluff Festival (aka "What the Fluff?") was more crowded, more chaotic. They even ran out of white bread at the Fluffernutter tent (Fluff and Peanut Butter - get it? Fluff-n-Nutter?) before the festival was over. The line to buy a t-shirt, kid you not a t-shirt, was 30 people long. My friend who lives one block away from the festival, and volunteered at said t-shirt booth, commented that this year there were more folks who were not "from the neighborhood". I would like to note my family attended the very first Fluff Festival in 2006. That should give us some street cred.

Or Fluff cred.



But we got to celebrate in something that is very silly. A sandwich spread made of marshmallows. And what better way to spend a Saturday evening?

And now I bring you a Fluff commercial.

And maybe... maybe? Linky Love is back. Just in time for the wonderful set of you who play along.

When you take boys to a triathlon

When you take boys to watch their uncle in a triathlon
They will want to be in a triathlon too.



When they are in a triathlon
They will have permanent marker on their body for days.



When they have permanent marker on their body
They will need to go into very very very cold water.



When they go into that very very very cold water
They will have to swim 100 yards.



After they swim in very cold water they will have to run up a beach
Dip their feet in water to rinse off the sand
Dry their feet on a towel
Put on sneakers
And a bike helmet
And a belt with their racing number
And walk their bike out of the "transition" area
With no adult help
And start riding a bike for 1 and 1/2 miles.



After riding 1 and 1/2 miles they will have to get off their bikes
And run half of a mile.



After running half of a mile they will get a medal
which they will promptly take off their necks and place on their little cousin



After getting the medal back from their nearly 2-year-old cousin
They will collapse on a sea wall to drink lots of water



While drinking lots of water
They will talk between gasping for air about how they plan on doing another triathlon.


With apologies to Laura Joffe Numeroff, author of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

Now we have an Ironman in the family

Over the weekend we drove to a smaller city in a neighboring state to watch a bunch of crazies attempt to travel 70.3 miles. On water and land. Without aid of a plane or train or automobile.

Or boat.

These crazies got up really early to swim 1.2 miles. As one athlete described it "the swim really sucked (white cap waves)". He ended up asking another triathlete, someone he surmised had done this before, how to manage the white caps. The experienced one said to just go with the flow and not fight it.



Then there was 56 miles on a bicycle. This athlete explained that the the cycling "kinda sucked". He went on to say that "everyone had Tri(atholon) bikes except me, which was kind of like running in flipflops while everyone else had sneakers".



Much yelling and screaming greeted the athlete as he finished his final mile on his non-Tri bike. Much running and jumping and down accompanied watching him get off his bike, switch to running shoes and take off for the next part.



And after he started off, little men decided to have their own running races.



They were pretty tired after a few hundred yards.



And the last part was a run. A mere 13.1 mile run (called half marathon in competitive craziness).



The athlete noted that "the run sucked, too (too humid and too hilly)".



And to say that my father (above), nephew (in his arms), sister-in-law, kids, husband, and mother were not insanely proud of my "little" brother (he is after all four years younger than me so I remember the day he came home from the hospital) for finishing an Ironman race - with a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bicycle race and THEN a 13.1 mile half marathon is an understatement. And that he finished this Ironman in 6 hours, 17 minutes and 23 seconds is just jaw dropping.

Because I remember him when he was first learning to walk. And it wasn't pretty.



According to the athlete, my brother, "overall, it was pretty fun!"

King Street - Charleston, SC

During our visit to Charleston, South Carolina, Ambassador and I stayed at the King's Courtyard Inn on King Street.



Quite simply, Ambassador could not have found a more charming and wonderfully located place to lay our heads at night. The staff were helpful, the room spacious and the wine and cheese at the end of the afternoon the perfect way to recharge after a hot day of photography and shopping.



And was there shopping. Window shopping in antique store windows.



The little boutique, Jayne, one of many along King Street, caught our attention because the sign in the window said "Yes, You CAN AFFORD to shop here!" And guess what? I could. I found the cutest summer jacket with ribbon and zipper detailing for a price that was insanely affordable.


I fell in love with this pharmacy sign. When we went in for various sundries, it became apparent we were in a Republican Party haven, complete with personal photos of various 2008 presidential candidates and the Republican Party chairman. The little old lady at the cash register even regaled us with anti-Clinton and Obama slogans. I still love the sign.

But the shop I loved was Lily. Not only for the wonderful items they sold (I literally shopped there three times while in Charleston) or the fact the shop was located in the first floor of our Inn. Or that it can be described as "swanky". I loved it for Kevin who co-owned the shop with his wife, Lin. He gave us tips including where to get drinks, suggested sites for photography and made us feel very special.



Because Charleston is a special place to be.