Summer Snapshots

 Blue casts post-surgery, pre-braces.  Morning cuddle time:)

 Wake Forest and crabs: I wonder who dresses the fellas...

 "Mama, sometimes Jonathan is... interesting."

Buds Charles and Jonathan.  Keepin' it chill.

 

 Aunt "Ria" and William.

 Grandy + books = YES!!

 We love when Poppa comes to visit!

 Wine with my sister is a good evening. 

 Josh and Hannah take the boys to Myrtle!

 We came.  We saw.  We conquered!

 Girls night!  Natalie, Hannah, Katie, Kristen, Jesse.  Thanks Jesse! 

 Cousins Morgan, Leah, Jonathan.

Reading with Marmee!

William Kyle Adams and Kyle Christopher Ficker.

The adventure I sought

I married a practical man.  A down-to-earth, responsible, and nearly unflappable man.   Adventuresome is not an adjective I would use to describe him, and so the heart within me that is ever searching for my own wardrobe into distant lands is having to find adventure in the nearby and not-so-crazy.

This last month has provided the opportunity for a few gray hairs, or perhaps something more...  To be honest neither my husband nor myself would mind a few gray hairs.  He would begin to look his age and I would have another blog-worthy anecdote.  I digress.  In the last month I have travelled hundreds of miles, seen Niagara Falls, bought a house, travelled a couple hundred more miles, sat at the hearth of dear friends, packed up my house, been evicted from current house by putrid dying rodent, returned to house and continued to pack up closets, clothes, and toys, and all during the record breaking heat that has swept the East Coast and tipped its hat to old friend North Carolina. 

We are tired.

Yet, as we piled children and suitcases back into the car the other night to seek refuge from the stench of a dying bat, Josh smiled at me.  "Life is an adventure," he said.

All I could do was smile back.  After all, I have asked for unexplored lands, whitewater rafting, trips to Europe, and perhaps a bareback ride through Colorado mountains.  Its hard not to see that saddling the Toyota with suitcases and sleeping next to our children in the proverbial campground of others' homes is quite an expedition.  Add to it that we are displaced and without waffle maker or frying pan for the next week and I let out a silent breath of laughter. 

Life is an adventure. 

Dialogues to remember

Yesterday we were all piling in the car to head out for a birthday breakfast of blueberry pancakes at Midtown Cafe.  It is an old faithful for Josh and myself, we shared many pancake breakfasts when we were dating.  Now we are +2 little boys and a trip to Midtown requires more than just a wallet.  As Josh ventured back into the house to grab more diapers (mind you we already had pull ups, blankets, burp cloths, diaper cream, size 9 shoes spilling out of the doors and onto the driveway and lifesaving PFDs you know, just in case) Jonathan piped up with his invariable stream of questions.

Jonathan: Mama, where is Daddy going?
Hannah: Inside for more diapers.
Jonathan: Whaa-aat?
Hannah: Pañales. Más pañales. (translation: Diapers, more diapers.)

Now let me insert here that Jonathan does not like it when I speak Spanish.  He usually retorts with, "Mama, talk words." I, however, am determined to give him the elaborate gift of a second language daggumit, and sometimes I slip it in almost without thinking about it.  This was one of those times, and as I spoke I rifled through the piles of necessary items to make sure they were in order.  As I rifled, Jonathan started to frown.

Jonathan: Mama, that is not very nice to me and to William.

I had no idea what I had done.  How was fiddling with junk bothering them?? They are the reason for all this paraphernalia in the first place!

Hannah (whips around): Jonathan, WHAT is not nice? I have not done anything to you.
Jonathan: You are stressing. me. out.

At this point I could not help but laugh.

Hannah (through stifled giggles): Why am I stressing you out Jonathan?
Jonathan: Don't. speak. Spanish.

Ay caramba, honestly, ay caramba.

The silly little things in life

Last night we ate like royalty.  Allow me to be clear: I have not made dinner but once (and maybe you can count the sandwiches I may have made) since William was born.  We are blessed by friends bringing meals, parents cooking, and the existence of Chick'fil'A and Papa John's.  It's not so much the cooking I am avoiding, but the making time for it, and for shopping, and for thinking at all.  Thinking about something other than a nursing schedule for one child, a potty training schedule for another, and a red wine schedule for myself.  With a brain monopolized by milk, underwear, and alcohol there is little room for anything else right now. 

However, I am woman hear me roar.  At least that is what seems to be the expected mantra of mothers (or any woman for that matter) and I was determined to rise above.  I fished out frozen meat (a combination of chicken and tilapia) from the freezer and pumped myself up to make a trip to the grocery store for salad ingredients.  Arriving at the grocery store, I was overwhelmed by the produce section (see notes of brain monopoly above) so instead settled for spindly asparagus.  Not willing to make my second dinner as a mother of two an utterly bland and unplanned disaster, I snagged our favorite topping, blue cheese, from the expensive cheese section-- I was too stressed (see note again) by the size of the supermarket to traverse it for cheaper fromage. 

Instead of cooking each meat and vegetable in its appropriate pan and therefore accruing a sinkful of sticky dishes, I announced that we would be throwing everything on the grill.  I slapped bbq sauce and balsamic on the chicken and passed it off to Josh, threw the partially thawed fish on too, and tossed olive oil doused asparagus in with the mix.  I mentally wiped my hands of the meal and sipped my red wine while Josh tended the Weber.

Soon I ventured out to see my delicacies being cooked to delicious perfection.  What I saw was less than impressive.  Skinny sticks of asparagus were roasting next to bite size portions of chicken, and we both had to laugh because my less-than-thawed fish was so mushy that the lion's share was falling through the cracks and leaving a doozy of a mess on the grill racks.  I had been concerned that I was using up too much meat for one meal, but now it appeared we'd all be two bites in before dinner was over...

You know the crazy part?  I couldn't have been happier.  It was just all too fun.  Dinner smelled good (who cares how it looked-- I was cooking, hot damn and hallelujah!)  Instead of kicking myself for halfway thawing fish I was giggling uncontrollably with my husband, who hugged me and laughed too.  I was drinking good red wine and you know what, that blue cheese afterthought sprinkled on top of everything made the whole meal taste like the finest gourmet.

Smile!

William at 6 weeks smiling!

Hermano mayor, hermanito

Thank you Marmee and Grandy, these shirts are such fun!

A few good shots:)

Dad and the boys

Mama and her fellas

Little Will, squish faced and asleep:)

"William I'm warning you, it's a crazy world out there."
"Really? Oh, ok, you got my back though, right?!"

A favorite new outfit. Ah yes, his casts have been decorated (by Mama and Jonathan).