The view from my lap.

Happy Fourth of July!

Back to the Beach

For some reason, my dear friend Jaclyn thought it would be a good idea if my kids and I joined her with her kids for a few days at the beach during the week while the daddies were working. Apparently for the same unknown reason, I agreed.

Before I cover all the fun we had, allow me to illustrate the sleeping situation.

8:30pm: Seemed like a good time for Jaclyn and Co. to retire to their bedroom, leaving Hailey, Keelyn and myself to the pull-out in the living room.

8:35pm: I pull out the sofa, and Keelyn loses her mind. What I mean by this is...she climbed up and began running a muck and refusing to listen to reason. She was squealing with laughter and delight. Her arms were in the air. Her head was bobbing side to side. It was like some sort of spare energy had been released. Energy that had been saved just for this very moment...her first chance to dance on a pull-out sofa. Apparently she thought a pull-out meant a party.

8:45pm: Hailey begins falling asleep, while Keelyn perches happily across the back of the couch, intermittently diving across Hailey's pillow in attempts to annoy her.

9:00pm: I remove Keelyn from her party bed, and begin pacing the floor to help her find a calm place. I wish I'd remembered my Ergo.

9:05pm: Keelyn begins picking my nose. And laughing. She's right up in my face. Forcing eye contact. She's teasing me. Trying to get me to laugh too.

9:10pm: Keelyn practices her counting skills on my ears. "One...TWO!!!" (which happens to be as high as she can count). My arms begin to feel tired, like they might not be up for this.

9:15pm: Keelyn decides pulling my hair would be more fun than nose picking, and does so with a vengeance. I get frustrated and contemplate driving home. She laughs at my threat.

9:20pm: Keelyn begins resting her head on my shoulder and breathing heavily.

9:21pm: Hailey loudly asks me if Keelyn is asleep, and Keelyn responds with a "NO" loud enough to wake the neighbors, followed by a desperate and frantic attempt to climb back into bed with Hailey in order to pull her much longer, more interesting hair. We start over.

9:30pm: I have to pee. Rookie mistake, I know. Keelyn comes along of course....laughing all the way.

9:31pm: We start over.

9:45pm: Keelyn is finally making a home for her head on my shoulder with more permanent intent. I am staring at the clock. I am certain my arms will fall off now. I envision them hitting the floor. She would laugh at me. Then she'd run in the corner dragging them behind her and hiding so I can't get them back. And I won't be able to get them back, because my hands are attached, so I have nothing to grab them with. She'll be counting them, "one, TWO!"

9:46pm: Hailey asks another question. I snap at her.

9:47ish: I feel horrible. I sit beside Hailey to rub her tummy and help her fall asleep. Keelyn leans over and pulls her hair. I stand up. We start over.

10:00pm: The kids are asleep. I lay down.

3:00am: Keelyn awakens. She immediately stands up and attempts to run across the bed.

3:01am: See 9:00pm...and repeat through 9:21pm until 5:45am.

5:45am: She's finally back asleep.

6:20am: Hailey wakes up, and we begin our day.

At nap time, I opened the aforementioned party bed, and Keelyn immediately jumped up, accompanied by a devilish giggle, ran full force into the cushions at the back, went air born, and landed in the middle of the bed on her back. This was followed by uncontrollable fits of laughter. I'm not exactly sure where this came from, but apparently this bed was just the best thing she'd ever known...and also my worst nightmare.

Except not.

She did take a nap. Eventually. And the next night, I began my pacing later, left the TV on longer, and found us all sleeping peacefully earlier, and through the night. The kids even cuddled each other all night, which was breath taking for me...really. It's a wonderful feeling to share a bed with your children I think. It's a wonderful thing to feel each other sleep.

Jaclyn and I had a blast with the kids. The kids had a blast with each other. We got some time to have real conversations that weren't rushed to fit into a one hour play date, and the kids got so attached there were tears when it was time to go. I was proud of us for getting by without the daddies, and for giving our kids an experience that reminds me of why it's so special that I am home with them right now. We are so lucky to be able to take off and head to the beach on a whim for a few days mid-week. And we are so lucky to have such wonderful life-long friends.

Jaclyn and I held both of each other's babies within 24 hours of their births. We've known each other since middle school, and it's just wonderful to be sharing this amazing part of our lives together...and to see our kids growing to care for one another too.

And so, I know that was a lot of detail, and then a lot of sappy, but that was our trip. We had so much fun. I'd do it again and again, hair pulling, couch bouncing, and all.

Here's Keelyn identifying her perch on night one...already drunk with laughter.

Night two: Shown here, Hailey, sound asleep. Keelyn, wide awake.

Keelyn, Elizabeth, Hailey, and Connor, after a long morning on the beach. See how tired Keelyn appears? It's a trick. A mere minutes later she would stun masses of people with her skills as she ricochets off the couch cushions and lands not-so-gracefully, but ever-so-gleefully on her back.

Loving their beach time.Apparently the most fun to be had is in the act of repeatedly filling large buckets with ocean water, and taking turns dumping them on each other while completing various poses in the sand. This occupied hours.

Two beauties posing for a photo.

And, me and my girls!

What she said, and then, a story.

Mommy, your toes are big like napkins.

I'm not exactly sure how to take that. I'm sure she's used my toes as napkins a time or two, as she tends to use whatever is in a five foot radius when the need arises, and that is rarely ever an actual napkin. I'm thinking my toes wouldn't make the best napkins in the world, but certainly they are better than some things one might use as such. Like a knife. Or a gravel road.

Beyond that, my toes aren't particularly big. They are long. They come in handy quite often. Andrew is infinitely impressed by the chores I can accomplish with the help of my toes. I think somewhere deep inside he married me because he knows if we all lose our hands, we'll still survive, thanks to my great toe dexterity.

But, if we're just dissecting what she actually said, I think my toes are about the size of a napkin that a mouse might use.

And while I'm on the subject of pests...did I ever mention I think I married Andrew for the then unknown innate ability of mine to find a man who can protect his offspring by catching flies with immediately accurate precision? I'm pretty sure I sniffed him out for just that reason, and I have grown to appreciate it as one of his many marketable skills. If we was on the market. Which he's not. But I'm just saying. Ladies, I have a good fly catcher here. Takes care of the kids real nice, too.

And. One day a few years ago, when we arrived home from a trip over Christmas, we discovered a mouse had been enjoying the holiday feast that was our entire pantry. There was food everywhere. Holes in everything. So much so, we were sure this was not a mouse, but a whole entire mouse family with little mouse kids and grandparents and Sammy from next door who wanted seconds.

Alas, a mouse was so audacious to scurry right across the kitchen floor in front of us, under the refrigerator to where there is presumably a nice little mouse sized hole to the outside world. So what did my fly catching, rodent repelling husband do?

He waited.

With a cup.

And the mouse came back.

And he caught it.

Now, I don't know how familiar you are with the speed at which a mouse can travel by foot, but imagine trying to catch a fly with your bare hand as it buzzes by you. I like that example, because I'm sure the average reader can relate AND, he can do that, too. I happen to think both are quite impressive. In that Me - Cassidy, I pick things up with my toes, You - Andrew, you catch bugs, We make good, strong family for many, many years, kind of way.

So, with only a small error in accuracy, he had the mouse. It was under a cup, and said error of accuracy involved the mouse's tail, which was not in the cup. Eww.

I should also mention here that Me - Cassidy, was standing in a chair. My toes are good, but not mouse-catching good. And, I was squealing. So was the mouse. Squealing.

With the quick flip of a wrist or two, or something like that anyway, he had a magazine under the cup, and was hiking out in the woods that back up to our house to displace the mouse in a more mouse friendly environment, with trees, and water, and little mouse friends...presumably his aforementioned little mouse family, far, far away from our feast of a pantry.

We cleaned up the pantry, and set a trap.

Two days later, we had a catch.

It was a mouse. With a broken tail.

So you see folks, my big, huge toes are not needed for use by mice for wiping their mouths, and therefore, my daughter can use them when necessary. And my husband, well, like I said, he can catch just about anything, and that's why he caught me and my awesomely useful napkin-sized toes.

Same Spigot, Different Kid

For the past three years, we have stayed in the same house on Topsail Island. We've stayed in many homes on the island over pretty much my entire life, but we really like this one. It's a few streets back from the ocean, on a canal overlooking never ending marshland with beautiful tufts of grass and winding trails of water. There's a dock for fishing and crabbing and swinging, and it's just quiet and peaceful. A short walk or drive takes you to an access to the beach, and this spigot sits beneath that access bridge. Here are pictures of Hailey, enjoying the spigot our first year, at about 20 months old, and Keelyn just a few weeks ago, at 16 months old. I think I've mentioned before, it's almost as exciting an exhibit as the ocean itself.

Blood on the Dance Floor

I danced to so many Michael Jackson songs growing up, I can't list them all. I'm pretty sure Blood on the Dance Floor was my favorite dance we ever did to MJ. He was such an inspiration. I'm grateful to my dance teacher for cultivating an understanding of how superior his music and movement was. His music fills a dancer to the soul. I am so glad that I lived at a time when I remember so many of the groundbreaking things he did with his life, and what he gave to us as a performer, innovator, and master of many things.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to write about this day (or yesterday, for that matter), but I had to write something. If my kids read this blog some day, they need to know that this icon was a huge part of my life...and they've been listening to his music since they were born. Hailey has watched his dancing on YouTube (since the MTV of my generation, which he helped create, no longer exists). I cried real tears last night, and again today. Ones that are shared with so many people around the world. It seems he might have had more to give, given the chance, and that's sad. Then again, maybe we took too much.

Either way, the world could have used some more MJ. More dancing. More music. More lights and glitter. More inspiration.

Man in the Mirror...My very favorite.

A vacation. With Pictures.

Before you read this entry, I suggest you take a looksie back here, at what my babies looked like a mere one year ago. Because, oh my. OH MY. Last year, I wrote daily during our beach trip, as part of a month long daily blogging commitment I inexplicably made to myself. This year, I chose to sit back and soak things up. The daily captures were great. So was the recent soaking.
So last year, I had a vacation in which there was little sleep, lots of time spent finding shade from the sun, and much nursing from the comfort of a wet bathing suit on a sandy beach.
This year, I had a vacation in which there was more sleep, more sun time, and a wet bathing suit on a sandy beach worn to cover the tattered breasts of a mommy no longer nursing, but also no longer wearing a bathing suit with more than one piece of fabric. Unless of course, those extra pieces of fabric are used to layer and hide the under pieces of fabric, which are used to layer and hide the under pieces of a body once muscular and svelte, now floppy and stretched out. (Not that I am having body image issues or anything.) (The beach is about the worst place to be when you feel this way.) (Maybe one day I can work out again...when the kids go to college.) But the kids…I forgive them, because again…OH MY. This was a vacation in which we made memories.
A vacation in which Keelyn danced with her shadow daily.
In which Hailey taught her sister the ways of the beach.
In which I actually read an entire book in it’s full entirety from the whole entire first page, to the whole entire last page in only a whole entire week. And, it was not about raising children. And, it had no pictures. And, it was great...The Sex Lives of Cannibals, by J. Maarten Troost, if you're interested.
It was a vacation in which I ate entirely too many pieces of various forms of chocolate.

In which my husband enjoyed a warm cuddly nap with the second born every afternoon…something they are going to miss, I’m sure. In which we enjoyed small and big family time over and over every day.

In which we appreciated the time away from the difficulties of our current situation…focusing on the beauty of this Earth, and the perfection that is our imperfect family.

A vacation in which BOTH children actually slept (in various places and positions) until 7:45 one morning. (That's about 2 hours later than normal.)

In which Keelyn began to talk. Like really talk. With real words. Ones that made sense and got stuff done.

In which I experienced heart palpitations as my first born drifted away from me in a boat manned by none other than her daddy.

A vacation in which there was time to worry about nothing but finding a good pool for splashing.

In which there were sand castles, otherwise known as nice little seats for the kids.

In which Hailey collected every single shell on the entire island. Really. She did not discriminate. No shell was too broken. No shell was too small.

In which the girls discovered giggle time each evening with a peek-a-boo game from their beds while sharing a room. (What were we thinking?) (It was adorable.)

A vacation in which Keelyn fell in love with the ocean.

And Hailey rekindled her love from last year.

In which the girls were inseparable.

In which the pictures illustrate wonderful moments.

In which moments happened perfectly for pictures.

Hiding in the Shadows

Bet you thought I disappeared.

We were at the beach. All week.

I did not blog. All week.

I did not think about the things at home that are making me lose my mind...most of the week, anyway.

It was marvelous.

I promise many beautiful pictures and a story or two to come, but for now, rest assured that we are all living and breathing and well, as I know you were becoming concerned when it seemed I had forgotten how to use the Internet. I am familiar. It's like riding a bike. And so is sleeping, which I intend to do this evening instead of going through the 883 pictures we took in 8 days. That would be about 110 pictures a day, for all you math majors. Pretty impressive. It may take some time. And some Photoshop. And some thought.

For now, if you need to bask in the infinite sunlight that was our glorious beach trip and simply cannot wait until the next post, you can enjoy these pictures taken last year of two very different girls who happen to have the same names as the ones we traveled with this time around. The difference in a year is astonishing. One thing that was not different...we had a blast.