Another day at Avila

It's so fun to take the crab net out on the pier because you just never know what's going to come up in it. Usually we are able to catch a couple of little crabs and some starfish. Micah and Dale usually man the net.

Usually I man the kids while they're manning the net, but this time I sat in the car for most of the time they were out standing guard over a desperately sleepy baby girl. (Side Note: notice Leila's bracelet- those are so cool, Mom!)

This

is the salmon head that they used to bait the net.

Sadly, crabs and starfish prefer squid to salmon, and the net came up empty every time.

But we still had fun because how could we not? Mawmaw and Pawpaw were with us!

Spring Break 2009

For St. Patrick's Day, I insisted that we go to Solvang, even though Dale had been looking forward to having dinner at the famous Klondike pizza buffet in San Louis Obisipo for weeks, because I thought a little tourists trap would have lots of fun activities and maybe even a parade to commemorate the great Saint Patrick who brought Christianity to Ireland so many years ago... Apparently the Dutch don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day. Not in Solvang, anyway. But this nice old man insisted on taking this family picture for us. Good enough!
The braids Kennedy is wearing were actually Dana's, but she took wore the headband over the back of her head so she wouldn't mess up her hair; I didn't get a picture of that before she took them off because Deisha kept trying to eat the braids.

Deisha has a darling little pink and green outfit on, but it was still chilly in when we arrived, so you don't get to see it this time, but she also wore that tiny little barrette in her hair, just to be safe from overzealous pinchers. Note to mothers of baby girls- you can purchase those tiny clips at Target for a couple of dollars. They're so worth it!

Leila couldn't bear to part with this outfit, once chosen (you can't see the pink cowboy boots), even with the knowledge of St. Patrick's Day. So I drew a little shamrock tattoo on her right arm. It's still there three days later. It may be there this time next year, as a matter of fact, because I drew it with permanent marker. Oh bla de, oh bla da, life goes on, Oh, la la la la, life goes on.
Dana mentioned wanting to take some video footage home, but we don't have any DVDs here and the way things are going, I may forget to get them completely. (I can't believe this is already the last day with them!) I don't know how time can drag on so slowly sometimes, then zip by when you want to savor it the most! Anyway, my apologies for the fuzziness of the picture, but here's a little teaser, just in case this is all we manage to compile for you viewers in Richmond. I wish you could all have come!!! And not just the Richmondites, but all of you, my friends and family. I miss you more than you can possibly realize.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

She thinks she looks "so cute in dis picture!"
...green underwear...

A year late, but the sentiment is the same. Don't they sound rehearsed? They are naturally in unison... harharhar.

Rocker

Have you met my son Tre? Oh, well then, let me introduce you!

Did I mention he's a rock star?

He is.

Valentines Extravaganza

This is the new clubhouse. Well, it was new on Valentine's Day and then shortly after Valentine's Day it was disassembled by some neighborhood vandals and the club dispersed after a game of war gone wrong.

This is the view from inside the club. The members of the club collected various items on from people's yards on trash pickup day to adorn their new hangout. That woman standing there, the one that's as tall as that tree, is Kennedy. You might not have recognized her because she was a little kid yesterday and woke up today fully grown. The other little darling in the photo is Jasmine. She was a little kid yesterday and when she woke up this morning, much to her dismay, she was still a little kid.

This is the other angle from the inside. Each little piece has some significance. The trees create the walls all around the perimeter of the club. There's a perfect little clearing created by nature alone and destined to be filled with children.

This is the picnic table donated by the club's neighbor "Mr. Nicey-nice". We like him very much because without his contribution, the first annual club Valentine's picnic. Let me introduce you to the club members. Starting on the left in the green hoodie, that's Alfonso. Next to him with the mohawk is Trek. Micah is next in the green shirt. I am directly behind Micah wearing a green shirt; apparently he didn't hear me say, "Say cheese!". You can see my shirt behind him. I'm also holding Deisha who loves the sun more than anything else in this life. Kennedy is at the head of the table; she is the club secretary and quite a party planner if you ask me. There in the sunglasses and glam sunglasses is Miss Tiffany, Trek's mom. She was there because she was invited. For whatever reason, the joy of these kids' lives is having their mothers participate in their neighborhood antics. I wish someone would tell me that so that I would participate more before my kids start shooing me away from their neighborhood friends because apparently I am indifferent to what brings them joy. Trin is on the bench in front of Miss Tiff but you can't see her because Zach is standing up making last minute adjustments to the various treats on the table. Zach is the club president and he's awesome; he's awesome unless he's playing with James and then he's not very nice. Behind Zach is Jas, she's always awesome no matter who she's playing with. And then next there on the end are Tre and Leila, the darlings of the club. Tre is the energy and Leila is the sugar.

More pictures coming soon!

Avila Beach

Avila remains our single most favorite place to escape to. Somehow we managed to visit on the most beautiful day in February last week. This is Deisha's first experience in the sand. For as feisty as she generally is, she sat there mesmerized for a long time. The sand is remarkably fine so it's like standing on shifting silk. She couldn't quite figure it out. After she realized she wasn't going anywhere, she tried to pick some up and have taste of it. Needless to say she didn't like it too much. I would've loved to catch that on film, but I was frantically sweeping out her mouth and hands. It wasn't long before she was climbing up the rocks with the rest of the kids.

Kennedy brought along a Spongebob kite that she and Dale got up high and mighty in no time flat. After he set sail into the wild blue yonder, Kennedy lost interest but not Dale. He stayed and flew the Bikini Bottom hero long after she abandoned him.

We never swim.I don't know if you know this, but there are sharks in the ocean, and more specifically shark sightings right here on this beach. More from the fact that even at eighty degrees, the water is freezing. But this mini tide pool was quite a drawing card for my young'uns; it's right in front of Jasmine and Tre in the background. Because we had been sick off and on for so long, I insisted that no one get their feet wet. I'm telling you it was a severe test of sheer will for them to stay out of it. The water was so shallow and so far from the ocean, it didn't seem like the ocean. It didn't even seem like water, it was "like, just a puddle". Tre's mind always keeps me guessing; his reasoning is so different than mine.

Since there was no hope of splashing around, the attention gradually moved to the rocks up the beach.

The boys turned to an adventure as soon as their bare feet hit the warm smooth surface of the stone. I'm sure it was Zelda related, as most of their adventures are.

After the string to the kite balled itself into a knotty mess, I spent about forty-seven minutes untangling it- long enough to wear down Dale's enthusiasm of sailing the high skies and he joined us on the back forty. I'm never less taken with the beauty of the coast; every time we go it's like looking at it for the first time...

...but then again, so is this.

God Speaks

I have a lot to do. Really. There is a long, long list of things that need to be done, but I have this disease. I guess you could call it a disease, I tell myself it's a disease. It might be more accurately described as an idiosyncrasy.

I'm not a finisher.

Years ago in my learning Renaissance I read some articles on handwriting analysis and found that you can tell a lot about a person by their signature. Mine gave a clear cut synopsis of me in that I write every letter carefully until the end where I leave a long tail and no letter. I don't finish the letters. It takes a conscious effort to shape the "a" and the "n". I was not surprised to learn this about myself, but alarmed to realize how telling this small thing was about me.

I can do twelve loads of laundry in a day. I can because I generally home in a single day long enough to get it done, and yes, if I do a bedroom overhaul, I can easily come up with that much all at once. The problem isn't the starting because I am a pretty good starter, it's that last load that sits in the dryer waiting to be retrieved and folded that trips me up every time. And if it's not that, I'll get it folded and sit there on the couch with the stacks of clean clothes all around me glued to my seat for who knows how long. It takes just as much effort to get a move on as it does to shape those last few letters. It can be done, I just have to work at it. Isn't that weird?

Lately I've been in kind of a funk that makes it difficult to even start anything so to fill my days I find myself piddling away the hours on things that don't matter. It's a drudgery and I know I would feel better if I was getting the work on that long, long list done, but it's- it's- it's easy just to dodge it, and that is what I do.

However, thanks to my recent rediscovery of the joy of reading I save a precious snippet at the end of my day to read. Guess what I read last night? Something profound but so simple. It's in chapter 23 of The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. If you haven't read this book I highly recommend it, especially if you need a reason not to take your real life for granted.

To give you a tiny bit of background, the author is a University lecturer, an analytical thinker in the last months of his life sharing every last piece of wisdom valuable enough to make the cut. These words very well could change the course of my life.

Time must be explicitly managed, like money.
You can always change your plan, but only if you have a plan.
Ask yourself, Are you spending your time on the right things?
Develop a good filing system.
Rethink the telephone.

So good, so simple, so brilliant. Maybe it's not a "right on" for you because you kind of have your game together. But, I find myself bemoaning things about my life that could easily be corrected if only I had it in the plan, and if I had managed my time more deliberately. This is something I've been rolling around in the recesses of my mind for weeks and weeks, and only now when these points come to the forefront do I realize that inspiration requires action to produce a good return. Thankfully, God knows my life and how it rolls; He always manages to send things my way right on time.

Mega-pack

I think about the same things so often that I forget whether I've voiced them here or not, which I'm sure you've noticed and thank you for your generous hush-hush about my dementia-like redundancy. One of those things is that people think that because I have a lot of kids I: a. am really organized, b. am really patient, and c. have easy childbirth. It's funny, even though I walk in these shoes every day, I automatically assume the same things about other mothers of large families. For the record, I am none of these things, no matter how much I aspire to be. I have not yet attained, any of these things, nor do I see the attainment in the near future. In fact, I would dare say I'm rather scattered. Dale may beg to differ.

I always did have a big family mentality though. I remember counting the years when I got pregnant with Tre and lauding the speedy growth of our family at our young ages. I thought I was conquering a huge mountain by raising four kids so close together. (little did I know...) It was a whirlwind for a long time; so much so that I don't remember much of it. I remember being caught in my pajamas in the midst of a filthy house a few times, and I remember crossing the bridge to maintaining a clean house and cooking regular meals. It makes me sad sometimes when I think about it, because even though it felt like an eternity, the years flew by and now I have all these independent little people at every turn.

Let me just pause here to say, it freaks me out when I find myself saying the things "grown ups always say" from my memories as a child, things like, "You're getting so big!" of "Make sure you wash behind your ears!" And here, the days feel like years and the years pass like days. Life is such a wonder to me. It's just never what you expect, and then you turn out to be just like every grown up you ever knew!

Anyway, back to having a big family. I love it. I used to dream about the days when all the neighborhood kids would knock on my door. Today I was scrubbing a pot in the kitchen and there was a knock at the door. I waited for a long time to answer because I knew it was for someone else. When I finally dried my hands and opened the door, a tiny little teacup of a gal was standing there all by herself. With all the confidence she could muster she said, "Are the redheads there?" That's what we are to every kid in the neighborhood, and to some the "redheaded Brady bunch".

Other things about having a big family drive me crazy. Right now the thing that just about puts me over the edge is that every time I open this one cabinet, something falls out. It's not that it hasn't been cleaned out, because it was just days ago that I took everything out to reorganize it in hopes of eliminating the problem. But the real issue is that my kids can reach stuff now, and if they can't, they climb to reach whatever they want. Once they've reached said item, they use it and stick it back in, not where they found it, not where there's a convenient spot for it, but wherever it lands after the cabinet door is open. YEEEEOOOWWWW! It just makes me crazy. But like so many other things in my life, what is the point of blowing a gasket? I've already done that four times today over other things that just don't matter. I might as well just replace the item to where it belongs and let it go. LET IT GO. Whew. I guess I just needed to get that off my chest.

Hello, 2009. I'm so glad you're here!

For Christmas this year, my sister-in-law bought books for everyone in my family, which I loved. When I unwrapped mine, I had no idea what kind of a treasure and tool she had inadvertently put into my hands; I haven't read a book in months. As a matter of fact, I read two books last year, that I recall: Two Princesses of Bamarre, a book on the kids' summer reading list, and a novel that was recommended my mom of which I can't remember the name. . I read it fast to ensure that I'd get it done and now my recollection of the details is minimal.

With reality glaring all around me, I placed the gift in it's perfectly untouched dustjacket on the shelf with a thousand other books that I would love to read. I seriously doubted that I'd be able to read it. Everytime it caught my eye as I passed by, I felt a pull to read the first page. As soon as I had a quiet moment, (which lends to my dilemma in that I cannot read with noise) I snatched up the fresh off the presses book, and began to read. Within three pages, tears were filling my eyes and I had to set it aside to avoid a barrage of attention and questions that comes with public crying in my house. That night I continued where I left off and found myself totally engulfed in the journey of Kate Gosselin, mother of eight children in three years. I was not surprised to discover her true love for the Lord, but I was surprised and completely encouraged by the strength she found in clinging to the Word of God throughout her story. Her honesty is riveting, while her writing is a carefully woven tapestry of passion and intellect. Needless to say I was reading every night before bed, even heading off to my little haven earlier than I've been to bed in years. The story inspired me, the character of the author inspired me, the very words on the page inspired me. It was a great way to start the new year.

I love every new year because I'm kind of a "start again on Monday" sort of person. As in, every week, I tally my shortcomings in various areas, same ones I've struggled with all of my adult life, and use them to fuel my determination to start over next week which means my New Years Resolutions are more like "New Week Resolutions". It just seems to suit me better because frankly, some things never change. As a matter of fact, I am working hard to train myself in the "start again tomorrow" dojo. It is a biblical principal, after all. I tend to find myself less neurotic and more capable of carrying the load for today all by itself rather than toting the week or month's heaviness. The latter can become rather crushing and often left me feeling incompetent and condemned as I dropped pieces along the way. Thank You, God, for continuing to bring this principal to light in the day to day conundrum.

Multiple Blessings is the name of the book. Buy it, borrow it, check it out. It's not full of deep, insightful wonder that will draw you into the great thinking abyss. It's just one family's story of struggle and doubt and faith and survival Read it. You'll love it.

Days like these

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy. Deisha, for obvious reasons, keeps me extremely busy when she's awake. It's not that I can't put her on the floor in another room while I work in the kitchen or clean the bathroom. The thing is, when she's awake, I have am constantly aware that at any moment I could be pulled away from what I'm doing and have to tend to her needs, whatever they may be, immediately. It makes getting anything done difficult. So why is it that when she's asleep, I'll start a project, and then maybe another in the middle of that one, and then start a list, and then come in here and sit down in front of this blasted screen and just veg until she wakes up and is needy again? Then I'm frustrated because I can't get anything done. Even though I just blew an hour in cruising who knows what right here. I just don't know. Maybe it's a self-control issue. Maybe I really am just losing it and looking for something to blame. Mostly I think it's a matter of unravelling my tightly coiled mind. Having a baby is all-inclusive. There's no getting around the constant demand. Now add five more children that have their own set of needs and WHAM-O I'm empty by six o'clock, only at six o'clock I still have a list of things that have to get done before morning, what is what I am thinking about when I'm sitting in front of this blasted screen. I could get up and have it all done so that at six o'clock I could be done for the day and just hang with my crew. However, that's just not the way I roll, not yet anyway. Someday that will change and I'll master the disease of procrastination. For now, here I sit until the baby cries...