summer lovin'

i've loved this guy for 14 summers now...

and he's still just as cute playing ultimate frisbee!

strep on the last school day!

2016's school year ended with a miserable case of strep.  on the last day of school (pictured below), kindin made the tough decision to stick it out - knowing she likely had strep throat just like her brother and sister had recently had.  surely she could last the 3 hours required that day!?  right?! medicated and confident, it was only 1 hour before i got the call from a very annoyed school nurse to pick up my feverish, tearful child.  it was a last day she'll always remember.    

"i'm a fashion girl"

shrouded with way too much confidence, dalia says often, 'i'm a fashion girl'.  these recently captured photos might prove her point. (?)

dalia also often says, 'when the magic happens' - her phrase for when she falls asleep.  mystified by the effortlessness of that process, she's certain it's magic.  again, point proven. (?)  there is a sandman after all.

babysitting blunders

kindin's been through a few babysitting blunders recently.   undaunted, she continues trying stints of responsibility even if secretly scared.  I encourage her by letting her know that when she's asked to babysit for others, these experiences will make her a pro!

on one occasion, i took dalia to her kindergarten checkup.  the doctor's office is literally 1.3 miles away.  the skies were clear, no tornado in site.  and 30 minutes after arriving, the tornado sirens were blaring and we were quarantined in the doctor's lounge.  i called home to a very scared, tearful daughter who struggled to talk through her fear.  i told her to head to the basement and hung up with a resolve to contact our neighbors for assistance.  no one answered their phone.  not knowing how close the tornado was (it was a close 13 miles away), i continued making calls in a room where we were squished like sardines.  i luckily found a friend who could come get the kids and rescue them from their fear.  here is dolly and i smiling through the chaos.

another time, i received 3 phonecalls in a row during my spin class.  (again, a mere 1.3 miles away)  i left the room to see what was wrong but kindin didn't pick up my calls.  i quickly put my shoes on and raced out the door as i dialed my voicemail.  a panicked message said, 'there are 4 guys in our back yard. i'm so scared.'  i dashed around cars unafraid of traffic citations with worries flashing through my mind.  all to find that it was just unannounced cable guys!  (what inconsiderate dorks!)  the kids were in a corner of the room all with tears in their eyes.
...yep, she's being prepared for almost anything!

a testament to the golden age

jack turned eight.  and in reflecting on the year, eight is really a golden age! he's developed a lot of confidence, a funny sense of sarcasm, an appreciation for physical affection sometimes, mastery and perserverance in soccer, and he finally stopped sucking his thumb.  but most importantly, he stopped complaining about church, he answers questions in his primary class, is often the first to remember scripture stories, and has learned how to be reverent in church rather than bored.  It's a neat testiment to the age of accountability.

the golden age has really show-cased his talents. we've always known about his smile that brightens any room.  he is also agile and fast. (he was the star of his flag football team this year.)  he's very inquisitive in an unembarassed way.  (we were at someone's house who had a framed family history portrait collection and he asked, 'what president is that?')  he is an excellent reader and is often chosen to demonstrate math problems for the class.  and one of the talents that i've recently been trying to decide how to help him utilize is his impressive talent for description.  (through health ailments, he has descriptions that could only be prescribed by a doctor.)  this year stands as a testament to the golden age... eight is great!

not just a whim but a hunch

'I want to ride my bicycle' by Queen is just one of the songs of my 2 hr and 46 min playlist as I competed in my first bike race.  It was my reminder to just enjoy the ride without judgment or self-criticism.  That was my primary concern - how will this newbie keep from getting discouraged among a large group of cyclists for an entire 41 miles?  (Truthfully, I'm glad I had something other than the frigid 44 degree wind to worry about!)  I'd ridden the route twice before but couldn't possibly prepare myself for how to deal with my own personal expectations in the face of 600 plus cyclists.  I carefully heeded the two pieces of advice I received from the 2 people I've  known to compete: 1. hang back at the start and let others go ahead of me and 2. simply look straight ahead without checking to my left or right.  I breezed through the first 14 miles thinking only on those two things.  (Though I'll admit, I got distracted once when passing my spin instructor.)  I biked cautiously- taking care to primarily keep my mind game in tact.  However, at 14 miles something happened to change the entire ride.  At 14 miles, a cyclist passed me.  As he passed, I realized that it was the first time I'd been passed.  (I hadn't consciously been tracking that but some sort of internal monitor was.)  And I couldn't believe it!  I'd been so focused on protecting my psyche that I didn't realize I was doing well.  I was keeping up.  I had a good pace.  In that moment, I started to give myself permission to notice the other riders.  It was thrilling to allow competition to enter the rest of the ride. I began riding with confidence and my thoughts turned to feeling like I found something I just might be good at. The race didn't track times or positions so I don't technically know how I performed but I know how many cyclists passed me and I exceeded my expectations!  It has been a long, solo, unexpected journey to this road race and it was good to feel like I wasn't just chasing a whim but rather following a hunch - a hunch that I might actually be a decent cyclist.

the proof!

dave obliges (usually) (after a bit of begging) to a yearly family picture but he really, really hates it!  he would have you believe it's the kids who hate it (and yes, they partially do) but the holdup every year is him really.  he just won't admit it.  and i finally have proof that the session ends when dave's done (not when the kids are done as he'd want you to believe)  check out this hilarious sequence of pictures from our last family photo shot!  now i have proof:

he begins to lean - signalling the end for dave: 

 this is where he posits something like, 'we're good here, right?':

hoping for an accomplice in crime he asks something like, 'chad, are you with me?'

he begins his get- away while everyone else is chatting about the possibility of more photos:

 'forget this, i'm outta here!'