So I had all these plans to write about our trip, which was amazing and fun and relaxing, and I especially wanted to write about the surfing, which was seriously amazing. But then work got in the way and the deadlines sort of pushed the blogging to the side, and then the kids started complaining that I hadn't gone to the store since we've gotten home and well, I sort of thought that the sand on the floor from the suitcases was a nice contrast to the SNOW that fell outside last night and pushed out the school day a few hours, but the kids started complaining about all the crunching beneath their feet, so I got distracted from the blog...
But I'll get there.
And in the meantime, enjoy this little hula lesson and pretend you're going to the Hookie Lau...
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
last day on the beach...
Today is our last day on the beach and we're getting ready to go back to reality. Our lives are already seeping into our vacation. Samuel pulled out his hefty homework folder and his assigments are strewn about the condo along with bathing suits and flip-flops. Boaz is on the phone with work and I'm scheduling appointments through the next few weeks.
But for this last day, as we get ready to head to the beach, we're all putting away our homework and work until we get on the plane tomorrow so that we can get one last full day of relaxation in. Boaz and I are going off to surf together for a few hours (heh heh heh, that sounds so funny to say that I'm surfing, but I'll give you the update on that when I post the videos), and the kids are going to hang out with their grandparents and friends at the beach. They've got plans to dig in the sand until they hit the middle of the earth so we've got to get started soon.
As soon as we get home and retrieve the cord, I'll post videos of our surfing and hula adventures... It'll be my attempt to relive these beach days over and over.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
paradise is all that it's cracked up to be...
We're spending the week in Kauai visiting my parents in Poipu. And truly, the minute we stepped off the plane into the balmy air, we felt like we were on vacation. Especially since our flight over involved one vomity child, one extremely wild toddler and a lot of drama.
And now, we're in this amazing condo across the street from the beach and we can see the waves break from our lanai. I'm in heaven, I tell you.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
after 8:30 pm, I'm outnumbered...
Samuel and I are in the kitchen going over his spelling words when Boaz comes home from his basketball game. The girls are asleep and the house is very quiet. He goes to the fridge, grabs some leftover chicken and after eating a few bites, takes a sip of my ice water.
I gasp.
The thing is, I have a very weird thing going on about ice water. I drink it all the time and absolutely cannot go to bed unless I have a glass of it next to me. And it can't just be water. It needs ice. And it has to be very, very cold.
But the other weird thing is that nobody is allowed to drink from my glass. Not even my kids. And I'm not sure why. I don't have issues with people taking bites from my plate, sharing forks or spoons, or even having a sip of my beer. But it's the water--you cannot sip from my glass and especially not if you're eating chicken.
"Seriously," I say to Boaz, "how many times have I told you that I have a thing about my water?"
"Oops, sorry," he says and pushes the glass back toward me. "It's just that it's so good."
"Yes," I say, "but now I have to get a new one. Have I not been saying this for at least the past ten years?" (Yes, I know I sound like a raging witch--it's the water...)
"Are you talking to me?" Samuel pipes up from the table where he's doing his homework.
"No, Sweets," I tell him. "I'm talking to your daddy who doesn't listen to me."
"Oh," says Samuel. "Because it sounds like you're talking to me. Like when I don't listen to you."
"Hmmm, maybe it's because I'm telling him the same thing over and over again."
Samuel laughs. "Hey Daddy, welcome to the club. She always talks like this to me when I'm thinking about something that she's not talking about." He goes over and pats his dad on the shoulder. "It's good to have you here."
"Hey, thanks Buddy," says Boaz, grinning at me. "It's nice to belong to a club where people understand you."
"Ah," says Samuel. "The Club." Boaz reaches for the water and takes a big long gulp as I reach for a new glass. "It's good at night when there are more boys up than girls."
Sigh... 6:30am will be here faster than you think, Boys!
I gasp.
The thing is, I have a very weird thing going on about ice water. I drink it all the time and absolutely cannot go to bed unless I have a glass of it next to me. And it can't just be water. It needs ice. And it has to be very, very cold.
But the other weird thing is that nobody is allowed to drink from my glass. Not even my kids. And I'm not sure why. I don't have issues with people taking bites from my plate, sharing forks or spoons, or even having a sip of my beer. But it's the water--you cannot sip from my glass and especially not if you're eating chicken.
"Seriously," I say to Boaz, "how many times have I told you that I have a thing about my water?"
"Oops, sorry," he says and pushes the glass back toward me. "It's just that it's so good."
"Yes," I say, "but now I have to get a new one. Have I not been saying this for at least the past ten years?" (Yes, I know I sound like a raging witch--it's the water...)
"Are you talking to me?" Samuel pipes up from the table where he's doing his homework.
"No, Sweets," I tell him. "I'm talking to your daddy who doesn't listen to me."
"Oh," says Samuel. "Because it sounds like you're talking to me. Like when I don't listen to you."
"Hmmm, maybe it's because I'm telling him the same thing over and over again."
Samuel laughs. "Hey Daddy, welcome to the club. She always talks like this to me when I'm thinking about something that she's not talking about." He goes over and pats his dad on the shoulder. "It's good to have you here."
"Hey, thanks Buddy," says Boaz, grinning at me. "It's nice to belong to a club where people understand you."
"Ah," says Samuel. "The Club." Boaz reaches for the water and takes a big long gulp as I reach for a new glass. "It's good at night when there are more boys up than girls."
Sigh... 6:30am will be here faster than you think, Boys!
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Sunday, February 08, 2009
a birthday letter to tali...
Dear Tali,
Last week we celebrated your sixth birthday and I couldn't be prouder of you. I've known from the very beginning that you were destined to be incredibly special. After hanging out two weeks past your due date, you flew into this world not even ten minutes after your daddy and I arrived at the hospital and then stole our hearts with your perfect pink skin, heart-shaped mouth, and your lovely rosy features. It was so like you to announce your presence with such drama and then charm everyone with your beauty and spirit.
Maybe it has something to do with your February birthday and the fact that four of the people dearest to me have the same astrological sign as you. Maybe it's a good omen to be born in the second half of winter when everyone is looking for the first signs of the cherry blossoms of spring.
But regardless of signs, Tali, you just make me so happy.
During this hard winter when we're all dealing with so much and much of my attention is turned outward toward our friends in difficult times, you truly show me what life is about. Your incredible excitement over a minutely loose tooth, or over being able to draw a perfectly symmetrical heart, or the way you write love letters to your friends and family for no other reason than you need to share how you feel makes makes me remember how important and significant the little things are. You make me remember what matters.
This year you had your first big class birthday party and even though there was a lot of noise and chaos, I was proud to see you both enjoy yourself immensely and be such a gracious host. You hugged your friends in thanks while opening presents and made sure everyone was having fun. And then before you even started playing with your gifts, you started writing your thank you notes--carefully forming your letters and planning what you were going to write, even though you literally have never written a letter before. Your careful patience and attention span would seriously make Martha Stewart beam with pride.
And I'm thrilled to be able to see how you grow this year. I can see how excited you get about trying new things. You've taken to skiing so quickly and I love to see you push off and make your way down the hill with that look of determination and thrill with the speed. And I can see that you're so anxious to start reading fluently and I can't wait for that "click" when you actually forget that you're sounding out words and are just ingesting them instead.
And quite possibly, you are one of the warmest people I have ever met. Not only do you prefer to sleep practically under me when you sneak stealthily into my bed at night, but your affection is contagious. I can't help but snuggle and hug and buss you when decide that's what you want.
So happy birthday, my girl. You are a complete and total joy and I'm so grateful to be your mama and be a part of your life.
I love you always,
Mama
Last week we celebrated your sixth birthday and I couldn't be prouder of you. I've known from the very beginning that you were destined to be incredibly special. After hanging out two weeks past your due date, you flew into this world not even ten minutes after your daddy and I arrived at the hospital and then stole our hearts with your perfect pink skin, heart-shaped mouth, and your lovely rosy features. It was so like you to announce your presence with such drama and then charm everyone with your beauty and spirit.
Maybe it has something to do with your February birthday and the fact that four of the people dearest to me have the same astrological sign as you. Maybe it's a good omen to be born in the second half of winter when everyone is looking for the first signs of the cherry blossoms of spring.
But regardless of signs, Tali, you just make me so happy.
During this hard winter when we're all dealing with so much and much of my attention is turned outward toward our friends in difficult times, you truly show me what life is about. Your incredible excitement over a minutely loose tooth, or over being able to draw a perfectly symmetrical heart, or the way you write love letters to your friends and family for no other reason than you need to share how you feel makes makes me remember how important and significant the little things are. You make me remember what matters.
This year you had your first big class birthday party and even though there was a lot of noise and chaos, I was proud to see you both enjoy yourself immensely and be such a gracious host. You hugged your friends in thanks while opening presents and made sure everyone was having fun. And then before you even started playing with your gifts, you started writing your thank you notes--carefully forming your letters and planning what you were going to write, even though you literally have never written a letter before. Your careful patience and attention span would seriously make Martha Stewart beam with pride.
And I'm thrilled to be able to see how you grow this year. I can see how excited you get about trying new things. You've taken to skiing so quickly and I love to see you push off and make your way down the hill with that look of determination and thrill with the speed. And I can see that you're so anxious to start reading fluently and I can't wait for that "click" when you actually forget that you're sounding out words and are just ingesting them instead.
And quite possibly, you are one of the warmest people I have ever met. Not only do you prefer to sleep practically under me when you sneak stealthily into my bed at night, but your affection is contagious. I can't help but snuggle and hug and buss you when decide that's what you want.
So happy birthday, my girl. You are a complete and total joy and I'm so grateful to be your mama and be a part of your life.
I love you always,
Mama
Monday, February 02, 2009
interview with sam
Me: What do you like to be called? Samuel or Sam?
Samuel: Sam.
Me: Do you like your name?
Sam: Yes.
Me: If you could have any name, what would it be?
Sam: Todd or Ted.
Me: Okay... What do you like most about yourself?
Sam: I'm good at video games.
Me: Is that what you're most proud of?
Sam: Maybe. Soon I'll get over that, though. That's what eight year olds like.
Me: So what do you think you'll like best about yourself when you grow up?
Sam: I haven't grown up yet so I don't know the answer to that.
Me: You're good at so many other things. What else do you feel like you do really well?
Sam: I'm good at snowboarding and surfboarding and all the other kinds of boardings.
Me: You are good at boardings. What's your favorite thing to do?
Sam: Go to Max's house to play Wii.
Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Sam: I should wait till fourth grade to make that decision.
Me: Okay, but if you had to decide right now, what would you choose?
Sam: If you're going to make me answer now, a TV cartoonist.
Me: Is that a cartoonist on TV or do you want to draw cartoons for TV?
Sam: Come on, this isn't Language Arts...
Me: Alright... What do you think is important in a friend?
Sam: He's honest.
Me: Is there a philosophy you live by?
Sam: What's a philosophy?
Me: It's like a plan that helps guide your life.
Sam: Can we skip ahead to the next question?
Me: What are some of your happiest memories?
Sam: Maybe that time when me, Tali, and Noah decorated our bellies with cookie frosting and candy hearts. And you guys laughed and took pictures and then we ate all that sugar.
Me: What are you scared of?
Sam: Bitty Baby dolls.
Me: Oooh, they are scary. Why are you scared of them?
Sam: Because my cousin Akiva is and we're buddies.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)