- We are just back from a trip to Atlanta. Big post about that (awesome) trip coming soon.
- Our flight home from Atlanta was delayed, and after a long day, we pulled into our driveway just a bit after 1am Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. Braydon clicked the garage door opener and nothing happened. He clicked it again. Nothing. He clicked like a madman. Nothing. With no other way into the house, we started to panic. Leaving the three kids sleeping in the backseat, Braydon and I got out of the car and walked to the front yard of the house— seeing no lights on (not even the nightlight that is always on in the upstairs bathroom), it quickly became obvious that our power was out. Nightmare. We will forever now carry a key to our front door with us… but prior to Tuesday night/Wednesday morning we stupidly did not. After a call to the power company (who said, “call back at 8am,” and with no other viable options, we had to call Margie at 1:30am, waking her up, and asking to borrow our own house key from her. Nightmare. We drove to her house, got the key from our rudely-awoken-pajama’d-in-the-middle-of-the-night-nanny-from-heaven, drove home, got into the house, somehow found flashlights in the pitch dark, and managed to have the three bambinos miserably, but safely, in bed and semi-asleep by 2:15am. It is very hot here (not as hot as Atlanta, but still– very hot), and with no AC [AC required for M to sleep– she’s spoiled like that], no fans [fan required for K to sleep– he’s spoiled like that], no nightlights [nightlight required for O to sleep– he’s spoiled like that], etc., etc., etc., we were in some kind of hazy-fuzzy-surreal-pitch-dark funk. Nightmare. There were tears shed. {for the record: by Mama only.} We spent the entire next day and night without power. No water, no stove, no way to shower or bathe after traveling… lost everything in our freezers and fridge… etc., etc., etc. Nightmare. More tears shed. {for the record: by Mama only.} Finally, Thursday the power came back. But the thing with things like this is that the aftermath is almost as nightmarish as the nightmare itself. Life seemed totally and completely derailed by the time the power came back on. More tears shed. {for the record: by Mama only.} We are currently working our tails off to get back on track and cope with the messy, messy aftermath. More tears shed. {for the record: by Mama only.} We have re-realized for the millionth time what we already knew we were: we are wooses, wimps, wickedly-spoiled people who have become utterly and sickeningly and pathetically dependent on our creature comforts. While camping in Assateague Island (with twin three year olds) or trekking across the Yucatan (with an infant) don’t phase us, while at home we are mercilessly at the mercy of the power company and all of the other powers-that-be that make our house our home. We like our adventures but we rely –heavily– on coming home to our smooth-as-silk-oasis-that-we-call-HOME. We are a pathetic bunch who have no right complaining about anything. So, I’ll just stop there. But suffice it to say: Lots of tears have been shed. {for the record: by Mama only.}
- The MRSA is back. (click here) Oh yes it is. With a vengeance. We first noticed fresh new very-MRSA-like-looking-abscess-type-things on the legs of Owen and Meera while we were still in Atlanta on Tuesday. We got M and O to our (angelic) family doctor as soon as the power-outage-dust-had-settled on Thursday afternoon. She confirmed what we suspected: MRSA is again amongst us. This is gross, gross stuff people. I’m talking seriously gross. If you’re unfamiliar with it just send up a prayer right now that you’ll never have to familiarize yourself. So, our three are on another round of the MRSA-antibiotics. Three times in three months for our three now. And on top of it, our pediatrician suspects that (given the come-backs) one of them might be a carrier. So… we also have to smear an antibiotic cream on the inside of their nostrils every night before they go to bed for the next SIX WEEKS. That is in addition to dealing with the actual MRSA (think wounds, boils, abscesses leaking fluid and draining puss and emitting blood and stuff). Again: gross. Oh, and Meera and Owen are both running fevers and needing Tylenol every four hours. Round the clock. Nice.
- Because of the MRSA we had to cancel our weekend plans. Those plans had been set since New Year’s Eve. It was supposed to be our second annual pool bash with the Slavins. It is just such a bummer to have to cancel a weekend like that with your college roommate. It practically broke my heart to have to do it. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. And I was so looking forward to all the margaritas that we’d drink together poolside. Lots of tears have been shed. {for the record: by Mama only… although the other 4 J-Ms are totally heart-sick about this cancellation too.}
- The day before we left for Atlanta I spent the afternoon at the hospital with Kyle. The day before he had stubbed his toe very badly. Like, the entire toe nail was pulled off and was left only hanging on by a tiny piece on the left side of the nail bed. Being the uber-responsible parents that we are(n’t), we put him to bed that night without thinking much of it. But when we went to check on him before heading to bed ourselves he was drenched in sweat, and moaning and groaning in his sleep with pain. And this is a child who– like his brother– has the highest pain tolerance you can possibly imagine (think skiing and skating and sledding for a week with a broken collar bone). Tylenol didn’t touch it. We then loaded him up with Motrin too. I had to sleep in his bed with my arms wrapped around him to get him to fall back to sleep. He was in serious, serious pain. Braydon took him to our (angelic) family doctor the next morning and she took one look at the toe and told Braydon to get him to the hospital. Braydon went to work for the afternoon and I took over with K. We saw a specialist and the toe got cleaned out and bandaged and — big deal for our boy — Kyle had his first ever x-rays. Turns out the toe is not broken, but it was a pretty serious foot/toe injury. Toenail is now completely off and the doctors give it a 50/50 chance of growing back. We are hoping for it to someday grow back (pllleeeeeeeeeaaase grow back!!!!!). Kyle loved the hospital trip and savored every second of the adventure (crazy, crazy kid). I was worried about his toe, but also worried about missing work and frantically trying to wrack-my-brain to figure out how we were going to pull off getting the five of us to Atlanta the next day. Here are some photos taken with my iPhone while there:
my best-effort photo of Kyle. you can see he was loving the whole experience... especially that orange Fanta (a VERY special treat).
Kyle's best-effort photo of me. not sure what, exactly, to make of this. so I'll just let the photo speak for itself.
the x-ray. Kyle absolutely INSISTED that I take this photo for him. he proudly showed it off to his brother and sister as soon as we arrived home.
- Also right before we left for Atlanta, Meera suddenly and unexpectedly and out-of-the-blue determined for herself that she was ready for a “big bed” and began demanding that we get rid of her crib. This is a major development. As shocking as this has been, it is so Meera’s style to just decide this for herself and take it upon herself to make this next step happen. What is bizarre is that we had never mentioned anything about a “big bed” (in fact, we had actively avoided it since everything was going so swimmingly well with Meera’s sleeping). This shouldn’t come as a huge surprise, however, since it is how it went with sleeping in her crib in the first place (moving out of the co-sleeper from Mama and Papi’s room), moving from nursing to bottle, and starting solid foods, potty-training, etc. She’s got a mind of her own that one. It makes our hearts sing and sting at the same time. Anyway– Braydon took the crib rail off and she was sort of happy with that at first. But then we went to Atlanta…. where she slept in a real bed… and now she’ll never be the same again. She wants a bed– like with a pillow, covers, blankets, the whole 9-yards– and she’ll settle for nothing less. So, she’s been sleeping with us IN OUR BED (this is unprecedented for us) and the plan is to set up a real bed in her room this weekend. We will see how it goes. No matter what happens this weekend with the “big bed” this new stage of life for Meera has brought with it a flood of emotions and I am just soooo soo sooooooo sad to see my baby becoming a non-baby. Please can’t I freeze time? Please??? Why can’t she sleep happily in that crib forever? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Lots of tears have been shed. {for the record: by Mama only.} (not really; no tears have actually been shed; but almost; and — complete truth: a little piece of me crumbles and cracks with each of these growing-right-up-developments… that is the absolute honest-to-God truth. I hate it whenever my baby birds start to show any signs of spreading their wings and GOD HELP ME when they start to get close to actually leaving my little nest).
- So, given Kyle’s toe, Meera’s bed development, the trip to Atlanta, the power outage, the MRSA, and everything else… we have been playing Musical Beds each night. Last night, for example, we went to bed with K&O in K’s bed, and Meera in our bed with us. But given all sorts of issues that cropped up in the night, we woke up with Kyle alone in his bed, Owen and Papi in Owen’s bad, and Meera and Mommy in Mommy and Papi’s bed. Lots of tears were shed. {for the record: none of them by Mama.} Also for the record: this Musical Beds thing is not conducive to healthy sleep patterns or sane minds.
- This afternoon in the midst of doing the umpteen-millionth load of post-trip and post-power-outage and MRSA-related laundry, we found our laundry room floor flooded. Luckily Braydon quickly diagnosed the problem (something about the drainage pipe coming unhinged???) and was able to fix it. But there was water everywhere and the rug and everything else on the floor was drenched. Ugh. When it rains, it pours. Right???
Never a dull moment.
Believe it or not we’re going to be taking another blog break. We’ll be blogging again in about a week. And then it will be awhile ’till we blog break again… I promise!
For us, it is a once-a-year tradition. We have lobster one of the nights we’re in New Hampshire at the cottage with my parents. This year, “LOBSTER!” was #1 on Owen’s “Most-Want-To-Do-At-The-Cottage-This-Summer”- List. My parents are practically pro’s at putting on the perfect lobster dinner. And there is nothing like eating lobster and steamers dunked in melted butter while sitting at a picnic table on a New England summer night. Lobster, steamers, corn-on-the-cob, and white wine = Perfect!
This trip is one of the deep anchors of our yearly rhythm. It is a gift. It is a gift passed down to us. A gift we are receiving. And a gift we pass down to ours. And we don’t know what the future holds. Will our beautiful little ones, who love this place so — who love it just as much as many of those in a long line before them have — will they have the joy of passing it down too? We can’t possibly know. And so, for this moment in time — for these moments of sheer bliss and crisp air and crystal clear lake water — for these moments of laughter springing and taste buds singing — for these moments of thrill and pride and gratefulness — for this moment in time we just soak it up. Because that is the very best we can do. That is how we can honor this gift that we have been given.
We go each year, thinking it can’t possibly get any more fun than the year prior. And somehow, someway, it gets better and better. We say it every year, but this year it is really true: this time was the best ever. The drive is a killer (9-12 hours depending on all the complicating variables), but our bambinos are such good travelers that even that part is relatively painless. And then we arrive to the family cottage. And there it is, waiting for us, in all it’s little red clapboarded glory. My great-grandfather built it with his own two hands, and the five generations that have come up behind him have known it’s treasures. Growing up I thought it was a joy. But now — oh now! — the joy is multiplied three-fold. Because watching our three splash there with eyes wide with wonder… it makes the joy almost indescribably uncontainable. Everyone should be this lucky.
The photos don’t do it justice. But it is the best we can do. So, here is the story, in photos, of the J-M’s 2010 NH Summer trip.
- This is the look of pure, highest-quality-of-the-best-ingredients, joy. Kyle. Happy. Content. Proud. With good reason– you’d probably look this way too if you, at age just-barely-six, had mastered the art of… WATERSKIING!!!…
- Kyle, The Six-Year-Old-Waterskiing-Wonder-of-Winnipesaukee. Seriously, when MorMor suggested that the boys try waterskiing I had all I could do to keep my mouth shut. I truly thought it was crazy– that they’d never be able to do it so young, and that it would just be a huge confidence-downer, and it would amount to nothing less than a huge pile of frustrated tears shed. Boy, oh boy, was I wrong. MorMor is always right. MorMor is always right. And don’t you forget it. By the second day trying, my boys had it mastered. Much to their mother’s shock, their grandmother’s delight, and everyone’s complete amazement. Yes, it is true: they are ridiculously-incredibly-wildly-athletically gifted. Their natural athleticism is a wonder to behold. But really—?!— waterskiing?!!–at age 6.2??? It was incredible to watch. And, from the back of MorFar’s boat, as the Official Spotter, I watched it. Over and over and over again. As my boys zipped around the cove, calm and strong, without falling, numerous times. And even the few times that they did fall, they just got right back up again. And I took about 2,000 photos of it all. Because even I could barely believe my own two eyes to see my own two boys doing this.
- Here’s Owen, the other half of the Winnipesaukee-Waterskiing-Wonder-Twins.
- And then there was the fishing. Another first: 2010 = The Boys’ First Year Real Fishing. Kyle had been talking about fishing since last summer’s trip to the cottage. He had wanted a fishing pole for Christmas, and then for his birthday. Finally, as he had been promised, he got a fishing pole for our big trip. And that fishing pole did not disappoint. He spent hours with it.
- Hours fishing that ultimately paid off! Kyle got what he had been waiting for: his first caught fish! A little few-inch sunfish. But a fish nonetheless.
- This is the look of pride. A special pride that comes with catching your first fish, with your beloved (and I do mean BELOVED) grandfather’s hands on your shoulders, with your family gathered around you cheering you on, and with your Mama snapping photos like a mad-woman! It is a good, good kind of pride.
- And all along Kyle’s goal had always been to catch a fish for supper. He wanted to feed his family. And feed his family he did, with that little tiny fish!…
- …there wasn’t a chance in heck that I was going to let him think that fish didn’t feed his family. And so… later that night… while Kyle watched Tinkerbelle with his cousin, brother, and sister, that little sunfish got to secretively swim away while I forced MorMor to chop a few small bits of haddock off a frozen pound-from-the-grocery-store that she had stored in the freezer. And pan-fried with lots of butter and a whole bunch of spices, that fish of Kyle’s (or so the kids all thought) was — according to Kyle — “the best fish he’d ever had!” And so it was. And then they rounded out their meal with heaping bowls full of good ‘ole macaroni and cheese. And life could not have been any richer.
- For Owen, the highlight was MorFar’s boat. And driving it is, especially for Owen, an especially high high.
- Owen’s other high: Kayaking. Our boys love it. Especially Owen.
- And to see our Owen, so strong and confident, independent and capable, solo kayaking on a still lake in early morning. Nothing much could be more soul-satisfying. To see him — and to know his whole story — to see him so peaceful, so still, so fully living — out there in the middle of the lake — it makes you ponder the most profound parts of life. And it also makes you wonder what he’s thinking about out there so happily on his own. Those are moments to be remembered. To watch your child do that, to see his confidence bursting through the seams, to know that he is happy — so happy — and, fortunate — so fortunate — those are things to cherish deeply. And cherish them deeply I do. And I know that he does too.
- As for Little Miss. She spent much of her time loving her life — as usual — and being the precious little thing that she is. Giving hugs and kisses to her people. Doddling and toddling around occupying herself with all sorts of things. Being busy as can be with her own type of chill-and-calm-and-centered-energy. She’s amazing. She found an old doll in the cottage closet, and it became her baby, and she fed it a bottle all week long. She had some mega-tantrums too, and continues to suffer from her travel-sleeping challenges… but… why focus on the yuck when there is so much yum?
- And as we are coming to learn about Meera Grace, she’s a true-blue thrill-seeker just like her brothers. The faster the boat is moving, the wider the smile. And the bigger the boat bumps over the wilder the waves, the louder our girl’s laugh. And her favorite spot on the baot is in the back, watching the wake… just exactly like her brothers have always done.
- Other favorite passtimes for Missy-Moo included bonding with her favorite peeps in the whole wide world. Her bro’s are definitely her favorite, but excluding them, #3 on her list is, for-sure, MorMor.
- #2 = Papi. And nobody is more fun in the water than him.
- And numero uno: Mama. She’s my girl. No doubt about it. It is me who gets the best (oh the sweetness!!!) and the worst (oh the tantrums!!!) of her. And I take it all, every little bit of it, happily, thank you.
- It was an 8 day trip. 1 day of which was dedicated to our annual pilgrimage to StoryLand.
- Can you imagine riding rollercoasters with your grandmother? I can’t. But it is pretty cool to see my kids do it. And they pretty much love every single solitary second of it too.
- Can you imagine riding the “Bamboo Chutes” with your grandfather? I can’t. But it is pretty cool to see my kids do it. And they pretty much love every single solitary second of it too. Oh, and as the photos prove, MorMor and MorFar pretty much love it too!
- My mom and I haven’t laughed so hard in a long time as we did watching Braydon and my dad ride on the “Turtle Twirl” with Meera. Seriously hysterical. Meera was loving every minute of it. Braydon and MorFar had all they could do to not toss their cookies. I laughed so hard I thought my sides would split. I don’t want to forget those few minutes any time soon. My mom and I, in the middle of StoryLand, laughing our bedoojooles off at the sight of it. People must have thought we had lost it. Papi and MorFar did almost lose it (their lunch that is).
- Speaking of lunch… the food… the food is always memorable when with the Johnsons, but especially when at the lake. Is it the food? Is it the view? It is the food and the view. And it is good. For our first full day at the cottage we were joined by Auntie Stina, Sadie, and the newly minted “Uncle” Mark. It involved ribs and chicken and corn-on-the-cob. Something about the cottage grill makes everything thrown on it come out awesome — I swear. And something about Beans & Greens Farm Stand makes all the veggies taste better.
- As the week got rolling the food got rolling too. And there were several food outings. There was ice cream. At Sawyers, at Johnsons, at Bailey’s Bubble (that’s three days of homemade ice cream folks!). There were fried clams and onion rings on the roof at Pop’s Clam Shell.
- There was a date night for Mommy and Papi at our favorite cottage-date-night-place, Ellacoya.
- And there was a boat trip to Meredith for lunch at Town Docks… a new place for the J-Ms, a place MorMor and MorFar had been wanting to take us for a long time, a place which is now…
- …without a doubt our favorite family lunch spot.
- And there was lotsa lotsa tubing. The wild ones cannot get enough of it.
- It was all ‘thumb’s up!’ and ‘around again!’ and ‘FASTER!!!!!!!’
- Meera’s First Tubing. My mother thought I was crazy for putting my two-year-old on the tube (which is kind of funny since she’s the one who put the six year olds on waterskiis).
- And there were summer traditions. Traditions that have been passed down for generations at the cottage. Traditions like swimming and playing at ‘First’-‘Second’-and-‘Third’ Rock.
- And traditions like riding out to wave to the Mount Washington boat (or, as K & O call it, “The Mount Washington D.C.”!). And blinking the cottage deck lights at the Mount in the dark of night, and getting the blinking light back from the Mount in return. These are things that I did when I was six, and my mom did when she was six. These are the traditions that make this trip such a deep, deep anchor in the otherwise sometimes slightly overwhelming life that we live.
- And there are quiet moments, when nobody is talking, but the world is listening. And it seems like the universe is telling us that everything is going to be o.k. There can be quiet on a motorboat when it is MorFar’s boat and the wind is in your hair.
- And there is a quieting — the good kind of quieting — of the spirit when you’re playing heartily with your siblings in the shallows of the lake. Discovering water and sand and all that is good.
- So, life is not perfect. But when moments come along that are as close-to-perfect-as-can-be, then right then and there we need to throw open our hearts with gratefulness for all that we have been given.
- For mornings with the whole day ahead of you.
- For evenings at the end of wonder-filled days.
- And for everything that is good and right in the world. We give thanks.
We spent the first day of our trip at the beach, on the Maine coast, with my sister Stina and her family. We spent the day together at the same beach we used to go to as kids — Moody Beach, right in/near Wells/Ogunquit Maine. It was a gorgeous day, and the first full summer-day-at-the-beach on the New England coast that K, O, and M have ever spent. Stina packed up a great picnic lunch for us all, we built a huge sand castle, and had tons of fun in the sand and surf.
For the next 10 days, or so, we are going to be taking a break from blogging. We will catch up later!
These were life-size body tracings. We had a LOT of fun doing them! Meera, especially, got the biggest kick out of it!
“I am not afraid of storms
for I am learning how to sail my ship.”
~Louisa May Alcott
There’s nothing like the sprinkler on a hazy-hot-and-humid afternoon. Summer is barreling forward at record-speed. How is July almost over? I feel like it barely started. Lucky for us, we have the Summer-Checklist (the Family Fun To-Do List) taped onto the refrigerator, reminding us of what we’ve already done and have yet to do. We checked off another biggie this weekend: Catch fireflies at night. This was put on the list by Owen. I knew that it meant more to him than simply to catch fireflies. Last year we had a memorable and magical summer night (hi Leslie if you’re reading!) that I knew was really at the heart of Owen’s line-item on our list; I just knew that what he really wanted was to have that night again this summer… complete with catching fireflies and all. Saturday night we made it happen. It was the “Fancy Haiti Dinner” (steak frites) — exactly the same* — as last year, except this year we let Meera stay up for it.
*For the record I just have to make note that the only difference in the dinner this year was the dessert. I made a new dessert and it instantly became all three J-M kids’ new favorite dessert in the whole wide world. It was crazy how much they loved it. Sweet-Cream with Blackberries. (My current favorite foodie blog is Pioneer Woman and I’ve been making a lot of her recipes for the past few months… if you’re looking for an amazing summer dessert, try this! Seriously!).
After dinner we caught fireflies in the yard.
Then we put Meera to bed and to make a special night even more special, the boys got to stay up even later and use up the rest of the sparklers from the 4th of July. It was a full-moon hot summer night.
Sunday was a lazy day at home just our family. No birthday parties, no get-togethers, no errands or projects to complete. Late afternoon involved a trip to DQ and rainbow sprinkles for some of us.
~~~
Sidenote: I got an iPad. The boys are freakishly obsessively in-love with playing with it.
For the record, I just have to note that the only difference between this year’s
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