What's in a name?

We have had nicknames for all of the kids.

(Actually, not just the kids but that is another post.)

Some were simple mispronunciations

of their names by the (then babies.)

Some are more representative of their personalities, their likes, looks and even sounds.

That is where Moosebop came from for Adrianna.

You'll have to ask her...

My fondest nickname for her though is Turtle.

Oh yeah, we add Ann on to everything too, even animals,

sometimes even boys.

Not sure if it is after my mother, sister or the fact that

one syllable names go nicely in the middle.

So, Turtle Ann it has been.

She has always been the frogger, fisher, the turtle getting kid.

I remember her in a skirt and mud boots,

slowly wandering around the pond for hours with her net

catching and releasing the warmth induced, sleepy paints.

We have noticed that the older she gets,

her pace sometimes resembles, well the turtle.

Especially in the morning.

I found this print framed, for a fortune of course.

So I bought just the print and Doug created this frame,

leaving most of it natural, clear-coating the 4 corners.

One thing she wanted for her birthday

was a room makeover and the frame corners match the wall color.

We did celebrate her birthday twice as Nathan was sick on her actual birthday.

The kids take birthdays very seriously and if one person

is absent or unable to partake in the meal and cake,

the festivities are put on hold. They make that call too.
I think that is sweet.

Who's kidding who?

They all have a secret pact, ensuring the same treatment

should they ever be sick on a birthday.

So while Nathan suffered, Franchesca and Solomon

worked to make her day special.

The kids love trick wrapping gifts and sending each other

on wild goose hunts via rhyming (or not) hints.

AJ is more the straightforward, give me the gift type of girl

(like me)

but she plays along, albeit often confused and sometimes dazed,

honestly preferring the cake over anything wrapped.

So she got some stuff, ate some candy, went shopping with me, did Starbucks (with me)

had one wall painted and waited...for cake.

And boy did she wait.

Just like a tornado, moving ferociously from one town to the next,

leaving its victims unable to prepare, so did that illness.

It stole my voice for nearly a week

and my mind for nearly 3.

AJ was the only survivor, escaping unscathed.

So last weekend I had scheduled some time out for myself,

but before any other virus could appear,

the girls decided to attack the cake making themselves.

Adrianna wanted a raspberry cheesecake and a turtle cheesecake.

Avoiding the spring form pan, they used Keebler crusts.

I had bought carmel, dark chocolate, raspberries,

but never did order those pecans from Georgia.

If you've never had pecans shipped from the farmer, do not.

Local stores will not like you.

You will never buy Diamond brand again.

The missing pecans allowed Solomon to indulge in more

than the chocolate cake that was made with him in mind.

Happy Birthday Turtle Ann.

Without an E.

Postponed

Franchesca got it too.

We still have not have the cake party.

But we will. You know we will.

Adrianna is the only person in the family

to not get sick.

Don't worry.

We celebrated and it included sugar.

Just not her cake.

Soon.

Up next: T minus 1

Adrianna's last year as a non-teenager

Nathan was sick on AJ's birthday.

He still is.

So am I.

Stay tuned.

Left Behind

I'm back.

This post has been sitting in Drafts

waiting for me to FIND TIME.

Time was lost, it could not be found

by me, anyway.

This is what the younger 3 request when the big guys are gone for the weekend.

Any season, any weather.

Pop. Any kind will do.

Because they got left behind.

Some sort of junk food,

(playing up the fact that Big Guys bought 10 Snicker bars

to help give their bodies something to live off of while sleeping in and on the snow.

Suggested of course, by BSA).

During warmer weather the junk food request is due to the

cheese, cracker, sausage, Poptart menu that big guys adhere to.

Huge bags from the library are necessary as well.

Some of us, select movies.

Some of us, eh hem, choose books.

Lots and lots of books.

The last campout, you remember, the weekend it snowed?

Solomon found himself entertained by using various methods

to fill his cup as close to the top, without overflowing.

And photographing his success.

He also formulated knee pads to encourage the girls to go sledding.
While it was really the books and or movies calling to them,
they blamed their snowpants being wet at the knees.
He is a smart one, that kid.

I personally did not eat the chips.
Or drink the pop.
I did however, devour a fairly hefty trilogy that was calling me.
Everybody has their survival gear.
Now, you know ours.

Narnia

I am certain that it was a scene much like this

that inspired Lewis to concoct a frigid, frightening forest

as the setting for his famous Chronicles,

instead of the wardrobe opening into a resort in the Bahama's.

If he would have asked me....

I digress.

A few weeks back, you know- that weekend it snowed?

Doug and Nathan headed north for the BSA annual Ocpik outing.

This is the weekend everyone fashions their digs out of snow,

after a previous weekend of training on safety, gear, hydration,

and of course the safe engineering of a snow hotel.

No campfires allowed.

My guys begin discussing this adventure during the summer.

It boggles my mind.

And no, it is not just a "guy thing".

So, this year they were in charge of the cross-country ski unit.

Doug signed up as leadership, mostly to get the free staff shirt I think

because he knew going into it several facts:

1. Twenty-five people wanted to ski

2. Most of them were newbies, some traveling from

as far away as Missouri. (For the snow)

3. Newbies always over pack, even pulling sleds piled high with mostly unnecessary items

like hairdryers, high def TVs, microwaves, laptops

and coolers filled with San Pelligrino and steaks.

4. Newbies always start out skiing strong and vicious, excited to make the 3-5 mile trek

to their piece of snowy heaven.

5. Newbies usually burn out by the first moderate hill,

falling over from the effort, using remaining strength to take of their skis

and carry them while pulling sled of essentials.

This is why someone must be the "leader".

Not to be the first to strike out in confidence against nature

but rather, to hang back, dawdle, and happily encourage Newbies along,

 ensuring no one gets left behind.

Mostly, to push those heavy sleds of leaded "stuff"

up the hills.

Despite the 11th hour snow,

there just wasn't enough for everyone to build proper snow shelters.

This was terribly disappointing, especially to those who came

so far, to sleep in a snow hotel  as large as a  dog house.

I have been taught that the temperature inside snow hotel

is identical to being in the Bahamas,

whereas the $300 tent is prone to render its inhabitants mild to severe hypothermia.

I am highly skeptical and have no intention of ever testing the theory.

Tents aside, another successful year of man vs. wild.

Lots of downhill skiing on cross-country skis

and even a fancy backpacking grill warming homemade pasties,

beef brisket and salmon.

Thanks in part, to some $10 sleds.

And helpful Boy Scouts, willing to push.

Blogmania

A friend and I have regular conversations

about bi-polar disorder.

Mostly because at any given time, one of us feels

either really good or fairly psychotic.

We use the term lightly, not at all carrying the full weight

that a real diagnosis would.

Mostly it is the upswings that garner so much discussion.

 An entire post could be dedicated to

what people who are in their mania phase spend their time doing.

This post could be the textbook stuff like staying up for

days on end, spending tens of thousands of dollars on clothes,

speaking really fast with random subject changes,

jumping off high bridges, internet gambling,

changing haircolor every third day, changing careers (or our names),

getting pregnant, adopting a dog, taking up French, then German,
organizing socks by name brand, and pulling this off while sustained
solely on coffee, diet pop and a french baguette from Panerra.

This is about us though, and we are nowhere near being textbook. 

We wannabe bipolars do those things in smallish degrees.

Our highs and lows not nearly so radical,

our lives not ruined by our bad choices,

our days not spent in bed in darkened rooms.
I do see it though, the list above could be applicable,
in smallish degrees.

I have been getting some really odd places purged lately though.

And spent some time laying in bed with sick kids.

Which is why I haven't hit this blog for a bit.

I can see pattern throughout this journal.

Sometimes I "find" time to think and writing ensues.
But sometimes my medicine cabinet is purged;
no beyond the date meds, everything arranged alphabetically.

In a picture, the flip/flop feels like the difference between this photo

and this one

I'm hoping to spend lots of manic nights on this blog, but then.
My garage awaits.

Rx: Relax

I recently found this note for me

after a particularly long day.

The handwriting threw me

but I knew who it had to be from.

I found the person it was from,

who would not reveal their scribe.

I was so touched by the repentance

and impressed by the wisdom in the advise for me.

******

Fast forward another week

I do not recall what warranted this

but again I was overjoyed by the concern and compassion.

When I asked how the writer of the note knew about relaxing deeply,

they simply walked across the kitchen and grabbed this:

This is my favorite cup as of late.

I won it on New Years Eve, at a great party,

during a roaring game that mostly consisted of White Elephant Gifts as payoffs.

When it was my birthday month, I broke my resolve to NOT walk up in front

of a ton of people I do not know, grab a gift, open it and display item ala Vannah White.

I was really surprised by the gift bags content which helped me relax

as I held up the large container of Avon Skin So Soft and exclaimed that

we use this to make fly spray for our horses.

What I really had my eye on though was this cup and the Chai teabag inside,

not to mention a lovely, fragrant candle.

If this is white elephant, bring on the birthday!

So, do you think I am the only one who loved this gift?? Right.

A fun, dear woman who I went to church with in the past was sitting

and was she ever eye spying that cup.

Problem (for me) was that HER birthday was AFTER mine.

When it is your turn, you may go upfront and have everyone stare at you as you try

to choose what appears to be the best wrapped gift OR steal from someone. Uh huh.

She did it. That churchlady STOLE my gift bag!

Up I go again, in front of all America and grabbed the closest thing to me.

I couldn't even describe what it was when I opened it for I didn't know.

Some small children began making noises and I overheard something bout

a storage box for ? some weird microscopic plastic toys that I'd never heard of.

I kicked it out far in front of my seat whenever someone walked by

looking for something worthy of stealing.

Right.

I resigned myself to the fact that my gift was in the hands of someone I knew and liked

and a tea drinker to boot.

Then.

My husband, not even playing, hiding under a rock in the corner

with the 3 childrenwho would rather eat skunk than be in front of a crowd,

STOOD UP for for June birthdays,

marched over to churchlady,

picked up the gift bag and PLANTED IT IN MY LAP.

That folks, is L.O.V.E.

My baby, just placed in my arms. 

Someone announces the Right, Left game.

Short of it, is that someone was going read a story about the "Right" family.

 Whenever the words right or left were said,

everyone was going to pass their gift in that direction.

Not THIS one. Not me. Uh uh.

My thoughts were racing-

feign sick and run for the van,

stuff the gift bag in my Kelty bag and my pass my makeup bag around instead,

jump up (with bag), run to one of my children and envelope them

as though they are hurt or sick

(whispering into their ear to hold my bag while I go potty).

NOTHING was out of the question.

My panic engulfs me. The story begins.

Right, left. Right, right, right, left, right.

Hope awakens! It could come back around to me.

I am quickly brought back out of my schizoid quest,

my mind cleared in the midst of this hilarious game.

This was seriously fun.

When the story ended churchlady and I exchanged laughs,

I'm certain she felt superior with her hand made chair cushions

as she watched me force a smile while counting out the set of used

Aristocat tree ornaments.

Out of the crowd, Solomon appeared, gift bag in hand.

<"Daddy ended up with it" he nonchalantly mentioned

as he took the Aristocats and ran.

Where.is.churchlady?

Only Michigan

Sledding with friends not long ago

This was the closest I've come to endangering my life for a pic.

I just prayed I didn't trip as I jumped out the way.

***********

Fast forward to yesterday.

With same friends, at the beach.