Happiness is... (a continuing series)

... Cousin Jack, enjoying his first trip to the splash park with Noah. Let the vacation begin!

Happiness is...

... Anticipating your sister's arrival in just 15 hours! Jenni and my nephew Jack will be visiting from Colorado through Tuesday, and I am doing the dance of joy.

Meet the Fam

If the family were a fruit, it would be an orange, a circle of sections, held together but separable - each segment distinct. -Letty Cottin Pogrebin

Don’t expect a Floridian to pass up a quote that incorporates both family and citrus fruit. I cannot resist the poetic resonance. And, to be truthful, we are a rather fruity bunch (in the best sense of the word).

Meet our tribe – Pete’s side, that is: two parents, three brothers, three sisters-in-law, and five cousins for Noah, ages four and under, which makes for some wild and crazy family time.

May I present the photographic evidence below (and before you think I broke a seriously nice camera, might I note that Troy, my brother-in-law and part-time photographer extraordinaire, is responsible for most of these amazing pictures):

First up, Lydia. My niece is especially close to my heart because we share a birthday (separated by a couple of decades or so. Emphasis on or so). Here she is manning the sprinkler:


And looking very cute.

Here's the equally adorable Riley and Noah --- is this not a classic summertime kid photo? I feel like I've stepped into an episode of the Little Rascals...


Riley looking very sweet, and not like a rascal at all...


My hubby. Yowsa. Definitely a rascal.


And I like it.


A lot.


One more gratuitous self-portrait. Hey, I've got to get some mileage out of this weight loss.


"Mama, enough already!"


Oops. Sorry. Back to the kiddos.

Noah and Tate doing yardwork (we start 'em early)...


Tate giving Noah tips on form.


I was hoping he would teach me too, but between collecting the walnuts and mowing the lawn, he ran out of time.

Baby Gabe with Uncle Matt --- precious! (You too, Matt.)


Auntie Karlyn and Gabe again... Is it me, or are bald baby heads irresistible? Something about the smell of soap...


Speaking of irresistible...


There I go again.

Here's Pete and his mom, who is at least 50% responsible for his good looks and charm.


Pop can take credit for the other half. Here he is with Cousin Halle.


Who looks more angelic than rascally.


Anyone up for a round of Duck, Duck, Goose? (Colm and Karlyn are the reigning champions.)


And after all that play, we simply pack the kids up in the toy box and take a siesta.


It works. You should try it.

(I told you we were a little fruity.)

Many thanks to Nana and Pop-Pop for their generous hospitality, their bottomless love, and their remarkable gene pool. If our family is, indeed, like an orange, God certainly made this one especially sweet.

This is not a happy face.

Ever wonder what your face looks like one minute after your toddler pulls your digital camera from the kitchen table to the floor, breaking it into several pieces?

I had the privilege of finding out.

This is the "Does it still work?" photo that Pete snapped just moments after the camera debacle. Note the look of panic in my eyes, the resignation. Noah is none too pleased himself, but for different reasons. A crashing sound never enhances his chances of weaseling a few pre-bedtime Nilla Wafers out of his mama. (Which, by the way, are so delicious. Have you tried them lately? I mean seriously, why have I been wasting my time with graham crackers?)

As you can see, the camera works. But I have a piece of important-looking glass and its accoutrements sitting on the kitchen counter, glaring at me. It is only a matter of time, perhaps, before Mr. Olympus wipes the digital sweat off his brow and gives up the ghost.

So if any of my wonderful, dear friends have an extra point-and-shoot digital camera that is languishing in a closet, do let me know. I would love to borrow it until, oh, Christmas... Or perhaps Groundhog Day. Flag Day, for sure. After all, I would hate to miss moments like this:


Or this:

Or this:

Or, for that matter, this:

Ain't life grand?

We've unpacked our soupcases...

After a long, relaxing weekend in Pennsylvania visiting Pete's family, we have returned home and unpacked our "soupcases," as Noah calls them.

Here are some highlights from the weekend:

- Late nights on the back deck talking and catching up
- My mother-in-law's cooking (Had to put the diet aside for a few days)
- Cousins, cousins, and more cousins (Noah's)
- Lying on the green grass looking up at the trees
- Lunch with my dad, who had flown in from Colorado for a business meeting
- Meeting my nephew, Gabe (9 months old), for the first time
- Meeting Colm, Pete's newest cousin (adopted from China)
- Watching Jon & Kate Plus Eight (Man, does my life look easy)
- Lightning bugs
- Turkey Hill chocolate marshmallow ice cream (yet to be sold in Florida)

Stay tuned for pictures!

"Mama, play!"

Me and Noah in Dino-Land at Disney's Animal Kingdom, Friday morning

Noah is so funny when he gives commands. The other week, when I was changing his diaper, he said to me firmly, "STOP. OBEY."

Is he allowed, at two years old, to already start using my words against me? It took everything in me not to laugh at that one.

Tonight, though, his command was also an invitation. "Mama, play!" I stood in the kitchen, eyeing the oven timer and contemplating setting the table before Pete arrived home. "Mama, PLAY!" he said again, bouncing on his toes.

So we played. Buzz Lightyear commandeered the Fisher Price pirate ship, navigating the rough waters of our tiled sunroom floor as Thomas the Tank Engine napped in the cargo hold. After a few minutes of sailing, the Happy Meal fire engine showed up to hose off the vessel (Noah loves my "wee-you, wee-you, wee-you" siren sound). Next we moved on to blocks, until the oven timer finally did go off and I had to tend to dinner.

It was a lesson for me. Close the laptop. Leave dinner on warm. Forget sorting the mail for now. Play. It's not possible to do every time --- the responsibilities of life do require attention --- but sometimes, nothing is more important than 20 minutes on the tile floor playing with your kid.

Speaking of playtime, on Friday we had an opportunity to join some friends at Disney as their guests, and nothing brings out the kid in you like Disney World (both the giddy, imaginative side and the whiney, I-need-a-nap side). We had a blast. Noah rode his first big boy ride --- a flying dinosaur (kind of like the flying Dumbos at Magic Kingdom), and he has not stopped talking about the "Emo Show" (meaning the "Finding Nemo" Musical, not some dark poetry reading by disgruntled Disney chipmunks wearing eyeliner). Around 3 o'clock we came home to leave Noah with a sitter and returned (after a fabulous sushi dinner) to Disney for more fun with "just the grown-ups." I rode Space Mountain and the Tower of Terror and screamed like a nine-year-old. I soothed my strained vocal cords with a cookie dough ice cream cone. I paused to watch Cinderella and Prince Charming wave from their lit carriage in the SpectroMagic parade. It was magical.

So today, I am encouraging you to go play. Give yourself a "Get Out of Jail Free" card for one of your daily chores. Do something fun, and tell me about it. And if you don't obey, I will send Noah after you. He is becoming quite the disciplinarian. :)

What You Didn't Know...

Recently 23 Degrees, a fellow blogger, asked me to share six random things about myself. Now that I know he wants to be a rodeo clown, I feel comfortable disclosing a few of my own little-known facts. Here goes:

1. I am a trained majorette. Or "twirler," if you want to get technical. I spent a good portion of my middle school career learning to toss a baton in the air and catch it behind my back. I dressed in sequined leotards and wore Tammy Faye makeup and twirled my way through Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" with expert skill. That is, except for the time when the baton landed on my face and gave me a black eye. That hurt.

2. I used to have really, really long hair. Not Crystal Gayle long, but long. And curly. I tore out a picture of Nicole Kidman in YM Magazine in eighth grade, back when she had just filmed Far and Away (still one of my faves), and vowed to grow my hair just like hers. I did not quite achieve my dream, but I imagine Nicole had access to better styling products than Dep Gel.

3. I love sushi. Love it. So many flavors in one little bite.

4. I secretly wish my life were a movie musical. You know, where the guy turns to the girl and breaks into song, and she tap dances away from him, playing hard to get, and he tap dances after her, taking her hand, and the two start tapping and singing together and soon he's twirling her around and they end in a passionate, technicolor embrace. Is that too much to ask?

5. I like to clean. Much as I whine about it, I find real pleasure in bringing order to chaos. On Saturday, I cleaned out my fridge and mopped the floors. By the time Pete came home, I was practically humming. We ended up breaking into song and dance and closing in a passionate, technicolor embrace. No wait --- I imagined that. Whoops.

6. I have lost 17 pounds since Easter. This, thankfully, is not in my imagination. Thanks to Weight Watchers Online and the encouragement of good friends --- and sugar-free Jello --- I have lost the baby belly. Finally. And just in time for swimsuit season.

So there are six random things about me. Your turn! I am taking this opportunity to tag Beki (whose contribution must be in poetry form), Wesley, who is done with school and has lots of time (and energy) for blogging, and Allie, who has very little time for blogging but I would love to learn six more things about her. Have fun!