Nine, not just a daydream, anymore.

John is nine. He has never been so happy to be a new age as he is to be nine. It's funny, though -- in my heart, he sort of hovered at five-ish, or six. But, no. He's kept on growing, changing, maturing, all the way to nine. He's huge. And still wonderful.

To celebrate, we had a BBQ. We invited a few families over for the day, and had a truly, completely, utterly delightful day of it. It was such a success, actually, that Smidge said he wants, "the same people, the same, exact group," to come to his birthday BBQ.

We're so thankful for the friendships we've all made. Good friends, which take time to develop. New friends, slowly growing into Good friends. Roots, going deeper and growing richer.

The kids ran down to the creek, up to the meadow, all over the balcony. They played video games for a bit (it was 97 degrees, and eleventy-hundred percent humidity outside - they appreciated the reprieve from the weather), then ran back out and shot their bows for a bit, ran amok a little more. The kids were funny and energetic and polite, and they tumbled from one thing to another seamlessly, moving from one activity to another either in one large lump or a couple of smaller herds. We were really impressed with how well the kids meshed together, and I know Me-Tae and I had just as much fun watching them play, as they did playing.

Granny was still here for the party, and I'm sure it was nice for her to see that the children don't spend all their time locked in a dungeon, doing school work and sweatshop labor. Even when you know that's not how it is, I think you still worry a bit when you live so far, and your son and daughter-in-law have adopted some offbeat lifestyle quirks. So, it's probably nice to meet the friends who influence your children and grandchildren. Plus, we enjoyed showing her off. She's a Very Cool Granny.

So now, having been duly celebrated and christened into being nine, he's feeling pretty big. Pretty happy. Pretty good. Last night, as he drifted off to sleep on the twitchy haze of a great day, he told Zorak it was his best birthday, ever. That's always nice to hear. Every year is special and precious, but for a parent, it's more momentous than the children will ever know. One year older, one year wiser, one year closer to the fledgling years. *sniff*

Next up, Smidge. But I have a couple of months to brace myself for that, thankfully.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A Weekend To Remember

The first words Zorak spoke this morning were, "I'm getting old, aren't I?"

And men say we ask no-win questions? I wish he'd just asked me if his jeans make his butt look fat. I mean, technically, yes. (On getting old, not looking fat. He looks great. And I know better than to ask - either question.) The whole birthday observance does tend to note such an accomplishment as surviving another year. That yearly survival thing is tantamount to getting older.

But on several levels, I do wish he'd be a bit more cheerful about it. First, it beats the alternative. Second, um, I'm not far behind, and I'd rather not face my ensuing birthdays with the fear that he thinks I'm getting old. Gah. Way to set the bar, honey. Happy Birthday.

Zorak half-jokingly confided that he has a plan to arrive 20 minutes late for church, which puts us in about halfway through the opening prayer. PCA'ers do love their corporate prayer, that's for sure. We nailed it today, and slipped in (as quietly as seven people can slip into a completely silent room that has no sound dampening). Church was lovely. You know you have a good preacher when the verses are Genesis 46:8-27, and he can actually make an interesting, applicable sermon out of it.

We spent the rest of the afternoon trying to convince ourselves that we should go out and work. But it was "warm" out. And when it stopped being "warm" (yes, I'm using euphemisms), the "vampires" were out. So. We stayed inside and worked. Hung out. Played a bit. It was, after a holiday of sorts, right?

James lost a tooth this weekend.
John lost two teeth this weekend.
Smidge is just dying of anticipation over tournaments and the team party.
Jason FINALLY started walking today.
Emily is one tired child, trying to keep up with her brothers.
AND, I have to find the disks for my camera, because this computer doesn't have the stuff it needs to upload pictures from the camera or the memory card. So, no pictures just yet. (If you know where I've put it, though, please shoot me an email, okay?)

And so ends another weekend. As usual, we did not accomplish all that we hoped we would. We did accomplish the important things, though - time with the kids, and getting the skivvies washed for the week. Good stuff, that.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Quarantine, Day 3

EW!

Well, perhaps it's not what John had. We're all still feverish and peckish and ill... ish. If there's not significant improvement come morning, it'll be time to call in the pros. In the meantime, our self-imposed quarantine seems a better and better idea with each day that passes!

Jase turned one yesterday. He slept through most of it, and didn't seem to care that it was his birthday. So, we put off the cake and the presents until we can go out to buy presents, and make a cake without infusing it will Essence of Ick. Kinda figured that'll be appreciated, all the way around.

And so, to bed.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Now She is Three

"...and Four". And still convinced that she will "soon be Jacob". (Which explains her insistance that she just get two years over with in 2009.) I love the hope that will not give up; someday, she will catch up.

Such a sweet girl. We are in no hurry to divest her of her hopes and dreams. They'll grow and change, as she does, and my biggest hopes for her are that her hopes are always bright, and her dreams are always wonderful...

That her brothers can always make her smile by knowing exactly what she needs (or wants)...

That she always believes she can do it, she can help, she can figure it out...

That she doesn't develop an unhealthy shoe attachment... although those are some pretty darned sparkly, happy-making shoes, there.

I hope she always has kisses in the morning, laughter in the day, and roses in winter.

Happy 3rd (and 4th) Birthday, EmBaby!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

(And I have to admit that while we were arranging the cupcakes on the platter, I kept saying to myself, "These are cupcakes on a plate. They are not a cupcake cake. They are not a cupcake cake. She wanted cupcakes, and these are individual, separate cupcakes, not cupcake cakes...")

Wha--?

It's nearly next year! My Event Smidge broke. It's buried somewhere beneath the Playmobil and the bean bag, neither of which I've been able to extricate him from for the last few days. So that means that at the end of the day, when I look quite bleary-eyed at the computer and think, "Ah, I can blog tomorrow," it means I have no. clue. how long it's been since I blogged. (Ya think?)

Oh, I do hope you all had a lovely Christmas. Or Solstice. Or Hannukah. I think we've even blown off Learn a Foreign Language Month since the last time y'all heard from me. Yeesh. But ya know what I've been doing?

Eating leftovers. (Leftover sirloin and roast asparagus beats the snot out of leftover turkey, I don't care who you are!)

Stealing bean bags from small children. (When Granny ok'd the buying of the bean bags as her gift, I SO should've angled to get me one, too. Do you remember how much fun they were when you were a kid? They're just as good when you're a grown-up, too! Zorak and I dragged them into the playroom to watch a movie, just the two of us, the other night. Totally fantastic gift, if you're looking for something to give.) Me-Tae figured out that if you stack two of them, you have a decent fascimile of a reclining lounger. Emily has napped in her bean bag every day since Christmas. It's the cutest stinkin' thing I've seen since... well, there's just an enormous amount of cute to trip on, around here.

Eyeballing the tree. And, for the first time in over a decade of Holiday Festivity Negotiations, I do believe I beat Zorak to the "let's take the tree down now" speech. Yeah, he couldn't believe it, either. But then, it went up before Christmas Eve. There was no harrowing search for a tree, no coughing up money better spent on chocolate, no delightful Festivus-style Airing of Grievances over decorating, and so... I'm sated. Content. Got my fill, and am ready to put my bookshelf back by the couch, where it belongs, thanks.

Then there's the cleaning. But that's not pleasant to discuss. And it never lasts long enough for me to provide tangible proof. But we had company on Christmas, and then again the day after, and then we're going away for a bit. So. You know, that's more cleaning than any one person should reasonably do. Ever. And that's all I'm going to say on that topic.

And right now, that's all I'm going to say, in general. Not because I don't care, but because it's cold, and Zorak just got the fire going, and it's warmer over there. So. See you tomorrow!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Pack Christmas Party

Oh, we had SUCH a great time. I think we're finding our spot. I also think the leadership is finding a good vision for the pack. It's all gelling into a pretty good experience. The majority of the party looked like this:

A little blurry. Very loud (can you hear it?) This is an animated, balloon-popping, carol-singing bunch we have, here.

They did awards. The little Tiger Cubs just made me want to scoop them all up and bring them home. But I'm not sure where we'd put five more children all in one fell swoop. And there's that pesky "parent" issue. Yeah, their parents might mind. So I just oooh'd and ahhh'd over the Totally Adorable little Tiger Cubs.

The boys worked their tushes off the past couple of months, and tonight their efforts were recognized. John's Cubmaster just gave him a bag to hold and dropped each item into the bag as he called it off. John was a bit dazed. I don't think he realized how many beltloops and beads and pins he'd earned. He's still in the hey-this-is-fun stage, not so much on the record keeping or goal setting part, yet. But he's been busy!

And I really wish I'd taken more pictures of John, because he was just *beaming* by the time he was done. But the batteries on the camera died about the third shot. So you get Bewildered John, the Bear.

James had a similar experience, and he was absolutely vibrating with excitement. But he *knew* how much he'd done, and he had painstakingly recorded every detail, every project, every experiment. He's written more reports, fixed up more displays, and made more contacts than I think he knew he was capable of. So this was pretty exciting for him.

Topping it all off, James earned his Webelos Badge. We didn't realize it was such a big ceremony thing. OR that we'd have to go up there. But one of the other moms kindly took the camera and snapped a few shots for us. As you can see, they ALL came up. John, Smidge and Em were pretty proud of James. That was just as good as the badges, themselves. Moreso, actually, for this Mama. And James was glad to have them up there, with him, whispering, "Ohhhh, COOL!" and "WOW!" - all of which must be sibling-speak for, "Way to go, brother. You've done a fine job."

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Play

It was a long, long, LONG day. We arrived at 9:30 for rehearsals (which they didn't have - they just put all the kids in Sunday School), stayed through most of the service (lovely musical service), and then slipped out early to feed the kids (they gave everyone an hour to eat, but we ate at the buffet and that takes us two hours to really do it right, and the only other food the children would be offered between noon and eight PM was going to be hot dogs, so we intended to do it right).

In retrospect, this may have really angered The Powers That Be, as not one person was so much as *civil* to me when I came to help serve supper - a task I'd been asked to do earlier in the month. Whatever. It was worth it. The boys made it through pretty well, and Smidge really enjoyed his lunch...

The boys all did a fantastic job. We can't believe Smidge hung in there. I fully expected him to burst into tears and just sit down at some point. (They'd scheduled in a "nap time" - I think, actually, it may have been an awkward attempt to placate me after I'd expressed dissatisfaction with the schedule of keeping the kids at the church for the entire day, without the option for the little ones to rest before the busy evening. Anyway, then they were surprised that nobody napped. Der. Talk about a monumentally bad idea!) But, he didn't fall over. He didn't cry. He really hung in there, and he is so proud of himself, too.

James and John nailed their parts. They were clear, strong, and obviously enjoyed the whole thing.

EmBaby danced, made up her own hand movements, and kept Me-Tae apprised of every step. "We are going to sing another song! We are going to see a movie!" (One of the songs had a video accompaniment.)

Jason didn't fuss a bit. He was his typical happy, complacent little self. Can't ask for a better evening than that!

And just for fun, to round out the photos, Smidge and Em were so happy to see each other again at the end of the day!

Oh, I love those babies! And we're so glad we stuck it out for them. They will enjoy these memories for a long time. Good stuff.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Thanksgiving Pictures

John learned how to make carved flowers. I didn't get a picture of the end result because, well, because I have five children and some of them were puking and somehow, "grab the camera!" just doesn't spring to mind in that situation. However, the lure of carving was enough to drag him off the couch. You can tell he doesn't feel well, but he's also content.

Jase learned to crawl. Whether it was an attempt to keep up or get away, we aren't sure. He had a really great time, though. (That's a cousin Em's age who's "helping" him along. Or thwarting his escape...)

James is still working on perfecting The Ultimate Camera Smile...

Cousin Veronica VERY graciously allowed her stash of non-shattering ornaments to be used by all. I'm thinking we'll need to get a box of these this year, because I just don't think it'll go so well with Grandma's glass ornaments...

We pulled up to find the porch lit with luminarias. It was a warm fuzzy. It's nice to have family out here that loves the traditions from back there like we do. (I also love that these are electric. Adobe isn't such a fire hazard, but out here, where everything's made of wood, it's nice to avoid open flames whenever possible.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

It's the holidays!

Zorak came home yesterday with Advent calendars for the kids. We have friends who a) spoil them so sweetly, and b) are FAR more organized and holiday-aware than we are. The kids are excited. Em has no clue there's chocolate under there. I want to hang the calendars on the wall - out of her reach - before she clues in.

We've been making the loop through the Christmas sections of the stores - Lowe's, Kroger, Home Depot, even The Pig has Christmas stuff out. Normally, I'd complain that it's not even Thanksgiving yet! But I'm just glad they didn't put it out in August. And really, I need the constant reminder that it's COMING. It's almost CHRISTMAS. Plus, I'm a fiend for Christmas music. Even if it's formatted as Muzak. Really not picky when it comes to that.

We have to retool our gift-giving plans. Not because of any financial crunch, but because I remade the jelly and NONE of it set this time, either. The pear stuff we could probably get away with renaming "syrup". I don't think I can bring myself to give "persimmon syrup" to people I actually like. *shudder* Ew. Ew. Just thinking about it makes me cringe. It's the color of Pepto Bismol that's somehow, some way, gone horribly wrong. Like the bottle wasn't closed the last time it was used. Ten years ago. The kind of thing you find in the back of your great-great-Aunt's medicine cabinet. That color. That should never be poured on pancakes.

And I refuse to knowingly contribute a gift that WILL be regifted at white elephant exchanges for the next few years, either. So, back to square one.

The kids have some fun ideas for what they'd like to give each other. I have no idea how we'll separate everyone long enough for them to pick up something for the others. It's going to take a math major, a graphing calculator, some matrices, and possibly blindfolds to work that one out!

The stove is my gift. It's a wonderful gift, and I'm not at all disappointed that it won't be under the tree on Christmas morning. I'd much rather have it fired up, and a safe distance from the tree. Like I told Zorak the other night, this beats a diamond ring, hands down, every time. And, to show my appreciation to Zorak, I promise not to decorate the house until after Thanksgiving.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Monday Morning

It's always nice, the first Monday after the time change. Probably the only Monday I don't oversleep. It doesn't make up for the chaos that ensues come Spring's time change (which takes weeks to work out), but for now, it's nice

We had a fun Halloween, completely avoiding anything weird or awkward this year (woohoo!) The kids had a great time, the grown-ups had a great time. It was cooler than I'd anticipated, and although nobody froze, I did lament that I'd missed a prime opportunity to wear a sweater. (Yes, I'm a sweater freak. I'm a Maine fisherman, Arctic explorer, Canadian lumberjack -style sweater freak. And I live in the moderate South, where there's no call for those sweaters, and there's no such thing as a "summer weight" sweater. It's the small things that get ya, sometimes.) We learn a little something every year, and this year was no exception. For example, next year we'll be heading out earlier, coming home earlier, and putting the apple cider in the crockpot before we leave so it's already warm when we get home. Ohhh, next year Claudia and I can spike the apple cider! YAY!

We worked our tails off on the windows this weekend. They're coming along nicely. Zorak's developing some wicked-cool glazing skills, we're flying through the "0000" ("four ought") steel wool, and soon there will be no more drafty spots by the sparkly clean windows. Wish we'd bought stock in the company that makes those foam adhesive gaskets, though. Wow. Who uses just one little package of that stuff? And why can't you buy it in 50' rolls? That's what we need.

We go to vote tomorrow. I'll be glad when the election is over. Somebody stole our campaign signs from the lower meadow. That's lovely. And oh, so likely to convince people to change their votes, too. Zorak mentioned that it might be a prank, but when it was just a prank, ALL the signs would eventually re-appear, crammed, upright and unharmed, in one little front yard somewhere. It would make the front of the little local paper, thus ensuring that next year's crop of children would feel the need to go one better. But at least you could go get your sign out of Mrs. Murchison's yard after you finished your paper over coffee. Signs here just disappear. They'll probably end up in the landfill. And the only message they're sending is that our neighborhood has a problem infestation of delinquents.

But today, we must work, and on that note, I'd better get the small ones rounded up and fed. (We did find the missing school books this weekend. One on the dry erase easel, under the... phonebook. Why was the phonebook in their room??? The other mysteriously re-appeared in the library basket. Hmmm... funny kids. It's like living with poltergeists. Or brownies. Depends on the antics.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Funday Sunday

Heh, you can mock. I couldn't think up a decent title. I'm beat. Happy, but beat. We had such a great time today. Ben and Claudia, et al., came over to carve pumpkins and have supper! I had helpers in the kitchen while we got ready for company...

Once they got here, the kids got to get messy and gross, and they worked quite diligently on their pumpkins...

And in the end, we had a lovely evening by the fire(s)...

Food, friendship, life... it's good.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy
(P.S. I figured out the watermark feature, but it seems to be a bit of a PITB to use. Bummer.)

Happy Half-A-Year to You!

The Wee One hit six months. We haven't lost him, dropped him (that was actually a concern, considering Em's need to haul him around), or scarred him (years to go on that one, though...) He gets more interaction than any child I know. Some of it unwanted, but he doesn't really seem to care. It's as though he's resigned to not being mobile. Who knows how this will go when he can do more than roll? He's a happy little guy. And, I think it's safe to say, now that we've hit the six month mark: My first child without colick! (Thank you, baby! You'll always be in the running for Mama's Favorite, just for that! *smooch*)

Thumb sucking is Serious Business? Did you know that? Just look at the concentration. He chased that thumb around for quite a while before he caught it. I'd have had more pictures, but I was laughing too hard.
Smidge digs being a big brother. Jase digs that his arms are still in his sockets. Life is good.
And Dad, who doesn't do the laundry, thought he should celebrate being Half-A-Year with... A Cookie! I was going to be upset, but when Zorak looked at Jase and said, "You like a cookie," (a'la Over the Hedge) and Jase laughed and laughed and yanked the cookie out of Zorak's hand, I had to decide between fit or photo. Photo won. He'll be fine. He really loved the cookie.And he really loves the Zorak.
And in no time at all, he's going to turn ten, and I'm probably going to cry. So, for now, I'll have a cookie, too. And smile. And kiss my babies. And pray he's not still sucking his thumb when he turns ten...

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Five Years, Already...

You're five. How can that be? Weren't you just a little peanut of a guy? Yet here you are, so big, so full of humor and curiosity and affection. You're not a baby, anymore, that's for sure, but you're still my Sweet Smidge.
Five years ago, you were our "Baby", the youngest of three, our last child. In five years, you've learned so much (aside from the fact that your parents cannot count). Now, you're a Big Brother, yourself. You're smack dab in the middle of this crazy family, and you have us all wrapped up in those big, brown eyes, that contagious cackle, that dimple that has a stronger draw than a rare earth magnet. Gah, I can get absolutely lost in you, you know that?

Now, you can actually hang with the big boys all day long. Yet you can tumble with the little ones and enjoy a good picture book like nobody's business. You're so very good at being You.

You love to hold JT and make him laugh. You love to be the one to help EmBaby reach the things she cannot. You love to go to Scouts with your brothers, "just to watch," and you could probably tell me at any given moment how many days are left until you turn seven and can join on your own. You make us laugh. Sometimes without even trying.

You're so sweet. Such a sensitive soul. Sometimes you are so empathetic, and your kindhearted nature makes me want to burst with affection. And sometimes, like when you cry until you puke, it makes me want to burst a blood vessel.

And you are so completely genuine and easy-going. I don't know what we've done to deserve a child who is so willing to say, "I forgive you," or, "that's okay". (We don't deserve you, if we're being honest, but we're not giving you back.) You're usually the first to apologize, the first to suggest solutions to challenges. You're the first to find the silver lining while the rest of us are still complaining about the clouds or the rain. You always make us shake our heads and muse, "Man, he's a great kid."

When your brother wanted to help decorate your cake today, you didn't get clutched up over it (like some mother might...), you said, "Sure, you can help!" Wow. You're really cool. The cake looked great, too. But even better was the sight of the two of you, shoulder-to-shoulder, sharing exciting things and encouraging one another. I didn't get a photograph of it, but I'll have the picture in my head for a very long time. Your brothers had a really great time picking out your gifts this year. They knew just what you wanted, and just what colors you'd like the best. I think they kind of like you, you know.

And now, you have arrows, an armguard, a quiver... and you get to help make your very first bow. When did you get so big? You plan this year to learn to ride a two-wheel bike, and learn to read. You still want to go to the beach, "when the hurricanes are done". (Good call, by the way.) I think this will be a wonderful year for you. And I know, as long as you're with us, it'll be a wonderful year for us.

Happy Fifth Birthay, Smidge!!! We love you so much!

Love,

Mom, Dad, James, John, Emily, and Jason

*P.S. No, they aren't partaking of herbal medicinals in that picture. It's the opiate of cake icing that they're enjoying - it is evidently much more potent when sucked off the end of a candle than it is when eaten straight off the cake. I don't get it, but don't they all look completely taken up with - and wholeheartedly savoring - what they're doing?

Emily's Choices

One of the topics on the table this week is what everybody wants to be for Halloween. This year, Em's chiming in with some suggestions of her own:

* RD22 (I botched this originally, and what I meant didn't translate into writing - we envision this more like "Arty Tutu" - perhaps it's Desmond's less politically oriented brother, or weird uncle. She may mean the robot, but we think "Arty" would be more fun.)

* Tinker Pan

Should be an interesting Halloween...

(Zorak is ALL about going with the Tinker Pan outfit - green tights, wings, feathered cap and sparkly glitter... how much easier could it be, right?)

Kiss those babies!
Dy

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jog

Actually, if you asked me to jog right now, I'd glare at you. Or, at least I'd think about glaring at you. But I don't have the energy to do more than that. Please don't ask me to jog.

We are home. Two very full days at Dollywood. One day at Splash Country. Five sunburned kids (even SPF30 has its limits - but it's nowhere near as bad as the lobster children I brought back from Florida a couple years ago, so I have minimal guilt this time). One lobster-mom - again, the limits of SPF - you just can't expose fish-belly white skin to the sun all at once, no matter how well you slather on the cream, you know. Zorak, who has had the foresight to work on the balcony without his shirt most of the summer, was able to even out his tan, and emerge quite bronzed and notburned. Pfftt.

We got to stop in at the Smoky Mountain Knife Works on the way back. This is Zorak's very favorite place to shop. Or at least it's in the top five.

Gram has good days and not-so-good days. It's a little scary on the not-so-good days, but like Aunt B said, she has those at home, too. The RV is so self-contained that she can be just as comfortable on the road. And when she's lucid, she loves to know that she's out and about. She loved the magnolia blooms, and the tall oaks. She loved reminiscing when the things she saw in TN reminded her of her time in VA and VT. She enjoyed watching the kids play, and she really wants to take BabyGirl home with her. Aunt B asked her last week what she'd do with her once she got her, and Gram said, "Well, I don't know. But I want her." Today she had a good day, and we were able to talk and visit for quite some time.

We think Aunt Linda has had a really good visit. She's always busy, doing something, or touching base with her daughters and friends back home. She tidies up a bit, writes some cards, holds the baby, and then starts all over again. I hope I'm doing that well, and can find that much joy in daily life, when I'm her age.

Aunt B needs a day at a spa, a really nice bottle of wine, and a book that's so funny it makes you laugh until you cry. But she probably won't take it. Gram had a bad night Friday night, and she stayed home from going to the park on Saturday. She worries. She's a caregiver, in the truest sense of the word, and even when she's exhausted and ready to drop, she takes a deep breath and keeps working. I wish like the dickens I could find a way to help her out, give her a breather, and help make her feel appreciated. Haven't hit on anything yet, but I'm not going to stop brainstorming for something.

I'm not sure the Aunts will ever want to travel with the Family Circus again- we're a loud, sleepy, vociferous, slow-moving, really vocal troupe. (Did I mention the decibel level? Whew, that'll do some damage to your hearing.) However, we had such a nice time. This isn't something we'd have ever gotten around to doing, I don't think. And now, we have. And we'd love to do it again!

The kids are all overwhelmed, exhausted, slightly crispy, a wee bit dehydrated (in spite of sucking down the water - sometimes you just cannot keep up), and all things considered, they held it together incredibly well. We even survived supper at the Cracker Barrel tonight with only one minor meltdown, and that was just a misunderstanding which was easily rectified and ended with smiles and snuggles.

I'll upload pictures tomorrow (today?) after we've unpacked and tidied a bit. Sit right down with a fresh pot of coffee and my USB cable and just go to town on it! (And hey, Erin, I did take pictures of the other four children, even!)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Kamping

No, I haven't forgotten how to spell. I haven't even just decided it'd be fun to spell random words incorrectly (although it probably would be). We really are Kamping. And you know it's not like real camping, because this is way too swanky. And a little kitschy. Perhaps even... well, before I go overboard, let's just say it's a K-kinda word. As in KOA Kamping Kabins. (Nobody should make that much money off of bad spelling.) I haven't been in a KOA for more than two decades. Maybe three. Wow. Why not!?!? This is the way. to. go.
so, to recap:
Thursday: 1 RV, 2 dogs, 5 kids (10 people total), 300 miles... and we're in Pigeon Forge! The trip -- surprisingly low-key and non-scary. I don't know if it's Aunt B's calming influence, or if we're just starting to figure this thing out. Whatever it is, once in a while, you hit on something that just really clicks.

Friday: Dollywood! Aunt B stayed with Gram to help her rest up. We took aunt Linda with us. Fantastic place. Will fill you in with really funny pictures and details later, but for now, just a few bits. Take your own food. That's not 'flat bread', in the sense that most North, South, and Central Americans use the word. Ice water is free, and those souvenir cups are worth every penny just for that. And, um, don't wear jeans unless you're here for the Christmas to-do. Yeah.

Friday Night: Dixie Stampede. Very cool. Kids were totally riveted. LOVED the ostrich races. Gram had a good time. I think everybody did. Our waiter, Matthew, was astonishing. I could not do his job. WOW. But WHY did nobody warn us about the silverware issue? What's up with that? Try convincing my OCD-sympathetic 9yo that a whole chicken IS a finger food, and then get back to me on why you didn't feel the need to tip me off about something like that, please? That should so be the first thing out of any reviewer's mouth: there is no silverware. Not even for the soup. It's not a bad thing, but again, a little forewarning goes a long, long way, does it not?

Saturday: Back to Dollywood. This time, Aunt Linda stays with Gram and Aunt B comes with us. (We tried to convince her to let us stay with Gram and then the Aunts could take the boys and Fearless Sister, but that was kind of a no-go.)

We could easily stay here for a month and never feel like we've seen it all or run out of things to do. It's most impressive!

And so, I've just fallen asleep twice while typing this (a pitfall of laptops is that you can, technically, get way too comfortable!) so I'm going to go.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Mess

We're enjoying the visit, and the mess. The mess stays in the kitchen, though, which is helpful. A messy kitchen means there's been food, and with food comes laughter, fully bellies, shared stories, and contentment. Food is good. But you can't have good food without messing up the kitchen a little bit here and there. And you could stop to clean. Or you could just enjoy your company and clean later. My experience indicates those pots will be waiting for you after your guests leave, so there's really no hurry...
The boys were in heaven all weekend, having Patrick to play chess with them. They're wallowing in Aunt B's willingness to play cards. They love having Gram to dote on and do things for. And Aunt Linda lets them gather things for her and help out. It's really nice.

It's hard to see Gram as fragile as she is. But you know, she's 99... and a half! I think you're allowed to slow down a little at some point, right? And it's a reminder that the pots and pans will be there long after all of us are gone. I plan to clean enough to be able to make good food. But then, relax, tell stories, play games, and enjoy the things that won't be here later -- things like little babies, smallish kids, big kids, friends and aunts and grams. Really. It's okay.

And we have a surprise adventure planned for this weekend! I can hardly wait!


Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Let them eat cake!

Well, perhaps not cake. (Too hot to bake.) But how about ice cream?

It was a lovely birthday weekend. Not the most exciting, as birthdays go, but we're not exactly thrills-a-minute people. (Shocker, huh?) The boys did bring out the surprise ice cream maker. Smidge feels vindicated, and none of us pointed out that he blew the "secret" twice since the last big spoiler. He's such a funny kid.

EmBaby is enthralled with it - carried it around everywhere. The biggest surprise was that all the pieces were still in the box by the time we got around to making ice cream. We used Aunt B's psychotically easy, yet rich and dreamy recipe: two quarts half-and-half, two cans sweetened condensed milk. Pour into ice cream maker. Turn on. Lick the milk cans clean while the ice cream blends. How easy can it be? (OK, we made up that last one. I don't know if Aunt B licks the cans clean. But we do. It's good stuff.)

Since we (a) procrastinate horribly, and (b) are impatient (yeah, talk about irony), we didn't have time to harden it before bed tonight, so we ate it like they serve at a certain expensive-yet-yummy ice cream parlour. I would mention the name, but after listing the recipe, there'd probably be a lawsuit for libel from associating the two. The boys had cookies folded into theirs. Zorak and I ate it straight up. This might make August bearable.

Since the big boys just couldn't shake the disappointment of my knowing what they got me, they talked Zorak into letting them get something else. Zorak warned me that it's not quite a bowling ball with "Homer" written on it, but it's close. They bought a DVD player for the little TV in our room. I can see what he meant, although I do think it's pretty cool, and it'll be nice to be able to watch movies back there, now.

The balcony is now, technically, if you aren't too concerned about the effects of gravity and siblings on your smallest children, usable. We promised Smidge we could have breakfast out there. After we put the kids to bed, Zorak showed me all the hot spots to keep Em away from - there are no stairs, for one. And other little details that won't stop us from wallowing in the piney goodness that is a non-scary balcony. (Yes, even with gaping maws leading to certain death at either end of it, it's now far less scary that it's previous incarnation. WOOHOO!) He plans to work on the side planks tomorrow, and we should be taking the baling wire off the kitchen door. Yeah, buddy, we're movin' on up in the world!

Tomorrow, we start back to school. I'll let you know how that goes.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

And now we are eight...

I wish A.A. Milne had written a book for every year.

John is now eight. He wanted to go bowling, and so, we did. (Smidge looks sad because it's over, but don't let the expression fool you; they all had a fantastic time.) The boys wore their Official Party Gear: wild print, button-up, short-sleeved shirts.

Also affectionately known around our house as "BBQ Shirts", due to the fact that they're worn to any gathering at which there is food. (The prints hide stains beautifully, by the way.)

For his birthday gift, he wanted one thing, and one thing, only:

A Daisy Red Ryder, lever action BB gun.

(Two things. He also wanted BBs.)

He swore he wouldn't shoot his eye out.

This is our little Jeremiah Johnson, our little Lucas McCain. He had the manual out and read, cover-to-cover, before I could get the waffles made. We knew the wait between getting his present in the morning and waiting for Dad to get off work to shoot it would make the day miserably long, so we took it with us into town and after bowling and lunch, we hit the range. As you can see, here, even a low-flying military helicopter (which had Smidge entranced) couldn't distract him from the task at hand. Not even for a second.

Since Friday evening, he's been down by the balcony, working his own homemade range. Almost 2000 BBs have winged their way into the target. Zorak just told me John got a blister on his hand from working the lever. This is one contented, happy little marksman. And he's growing up into a fine young man, indeed.

Happiest of Birthdays, Sweet John! We love you, and are so proud of you.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The End of Season Party

We made it. On time, even. Yay, us! The baseball cupcakes were a big hit.

Turns out, they don't photograph well. We ran out of red part of the way through decorating (I know, I know! I thought I had two tubes!), and had to hit three different stores to find more. What we found was a different brand, and had a softer, shinier texture to it. I don't like the way it makes the short stitches. But the kids didn't seem to mind, so that was nice.

In lieu of pouring something wet and sticky on the coach, the coach's wife bought silly string for the kids to douse him with. He took it with such good humor, and, as you can see, the kids absolutely loved it!

Jase hung out a little, passed a lot of gas, and then passed out cold for one of the moms on the team. He was so relaxed, and so deeply asleep, we began to wonder if he'd been drugged...

But, no. He awoke shortly and finished the afternoon playing peek-a-boo with the boys on the team. (Eight year old kids are so cool, you know that? Even they can't resist the lure of making a baby smile. Stuff like that rejuvenates my hope for mankind. It really does.)

And hey, the lumber for the balcony is *scheduled for delivery*!! Tomorrow! It's paid for. They know where we live, and what we need. Wee-ha, it's coming together!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy