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| lounging with a good book on a lovely summer's day |
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| That is my concentration face |
Monday, July 30, 2012
miracle
I am often in awe of the miracle of life, of how everything must work together just perfectly in order to sustain one life, much less billions of lives. Shocking, I tell you.
Confession time. I neglect our garden. I have great intentions, but the day gets away from me and it just doesn't happen. Imagine my surprise when the kids and I headed out to check on the garden the other day and found cucumbers and green beans up the wahoo and basil, radishes, happily growing carrots, and a few green tomatoes awaiting more hot days to bring them to red.
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| impossible for all veggies to make it to the house |
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| helping find the green beans |
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| my lovely basil picker (hard to find the plants amidst all of the weeds) |
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| eating raw green onions straight out of the dirt |
Teeny tiny seeds, recently planted, took a whole lot of natural sunlight, mixed it with some dirt, rain, and sprinkler water, and grew food. I am struck by this every harvest. This is miraculous. This is noteworthy. This is tasty.
That time my kids channeled their inner Pigpen
Isaac recently finished his first season of baseball and loved every minute of it, save for those few innings when it was his turn to sit on the bench. He didn't like that part so much.
We all headed to the park for his second to last game and Audrey and Elliot found the only patch of dirt not inhabited by baseball players, which was about 4 feet by 2 feet. Although it was a small island of dirt, that did not keep them from getting covered head to toe. It was such a sight that we had to strip them to their undies and hose them off in the front yard before allowing them into the house. Think both kids a strange hue of orange from dirt. Think using their baseball caps as shovels so they could throw it in the air to create snow. Think walking back to the car and leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. I patted them down like I was beating a rug in a futile attempt to get the excess dust off so I could feel okay about letting them get into the car. Futile, I tell you.
They had a blast and I was fine with it because in the grand scheme of things, a boatload of dirt is no big deal. It was a great year of baseball, but it's wonderful to have our Tuesday and Thursday evenings back.
We all headed to the park for his second to last game and Audrey and Elliot found the only patch of dirt not inhabited by baseball players, which was about 4 feet by 2 feet. Although it was a small island of dirt, that did not keep them from getting covered head to toe. It was such a sight that we had to strip them to their undies and hose them off in the front yard before allowing them into the house. Think both kids a strange hue of orange from dirt. Think using their baseball caps as shovels so they could throw it in the air to create snow. Think walking back to the car and leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. I patted them down like I was beating a rug in a futile attempt to get the excess dust off so I could feel okay about letting them get into the car. Futile, I tell you.
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| rally cap time. It worked as they went on to score 5 runs in the inning |
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| positively filthy |
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| who needs a shovel when you've got a hat? |
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| He's creating snow here. In case that isn't obvious |
one day
One day last week, I decided to do something really crazy. I decided that I wouldn't make the beds right away in the morning. I have never been a bed maker because, duh, you're just going to get in them again when it gets dark. Similar to my anti-ironing stance. Why would I iron pants, knowing full well I'm going to, at some point, sit down again. But, I digress. Since our house is on the market and the majority of our showings have been same day showings and I am home 24/7 with messy people, making the beds right off the bat means one less thing for me to worry about.
On this particular day, I just let them sit, pillows helter skelter, blankets strewn about. Then I didn't do the breakfast dishes right away. Then I got out every single bottle of paint that we own, along with construction paper, and brushes in order for the four of us to work on a handprint alphabet book for Beckett's 2nd birthday. I am speaking to you literally. Every single bottle of paint. You see where this is going, don't you?
We finished the book, meaning I had 26 pieces of hand painted pictures drying all over my kitchen. We started putting the paints away when the phone rang at 11:19. Someone had requested a showing for 12:00. Forty one minutes. As I'm talking to the lady, Elliot is crying because his head is sweating due to the unfortunate fact that he's wearing a bike helmet inside of our house. Then, Isaac knocked a glass off of the counter and it shattered on the floor. So, of course, I tell the lady that we can definitely do the 12 o'clock showing because who cares that there's paint everywhere, dishes aren't done, beds aren't made, glass all over the floor, kid crying? I've got this.
At the last moment, she inserted this caveat. Well, the realtor put a note on the showing request that he'd like to make an offer, so maybe they won't really come through. Hmm. Not helpful. Because I can't leave my house in this state on the off chance they don't come through.
I frantically called Jim to call the realtor to try to figure out if they were coming through while I triaged the cleaning situation. He couldn't get an answer, so I became the personification of the Tazmanian Devil as I whipped and whirled through this house in a frenzied attempt at homemaking perfection. We did it. I called Jim at 11:51 telling him we were about to leave. You see where this is going, don't you?
They didn't come for a second showing. They did make an offer. An offer so low that Jim and I had a good, long laugh about it. And that's what happened one day last week.
On this particular day, I just let them sit, pillows helter skelter, blankets strewn about. Then I didn't do the breakfast dishes right away. Then I got out every single bottle of paint that we own, along with construction paper, and brushes in order for the four of us to work on a handprint alphabet book for Beckett's 2nd birthday. I am speaking to you literally. Every single bottle of paint. You see where this is going, don't you?
We finished the book, meaning I had 26 pieces of hand painted pictures drying all over my kitchen. We started putting the paints away when the phone rang at 11:19. Someone had requested a showing for 12:00. Forty one minutes. As I'm talking to the lady, Elliot is crying because his head is sweating due to the unfortunate fact that he's wearing a bike helmet inside of our house. Then, Isaac knocked a glass off of the counter and it shattered on the floor. So, of course, I tell the lady that we can definitely do the 12 o'clock showing because who cares that there's paint everywhere, dishes aren't done, beds aren't made, glass all over the floor, kid crying? I've got this.
At the last moment, she inserted this caveat. Well, the realtor put a note on the showing request that he'd like to make an offer, so maybe they won't really come through. Hmm. Not helpful. Because I can't leave my house in this state on the off chance they don't come through.
I frantically called Jim to call the realtor to try to figure out if they were coming through while I triaged the cleaning situation. He couldn't get an answer, so I became the personification of the Tazmanian Devil as I whipped and whirled through this house in a frenzied attempt at homemaking perfection. We did it. I called Jim at 11:51 telling him we were about to leave. You see where this is going, don't you?
They didn't come for a second showing. They did make an offer. An offer so low that Jim and I had a good, long laugh about it. And that's what happened one day last week.
Monday, July 23, 2012
proof that my children are crazy
Oh, the kiddos were happy to be playing together again today. In the midst of laundry and math and car ramps created from big library books, we got a short notice showing request. Thankfully the house was in pretty good shape, but our relaxing morning took a turn as I put the finishing touches on the house. While I vacuumed and put sheets on beds, they got a squooshy ball and set up camp on the stairs, with one standing on the floor, one in the middle of the stairs, and one at the top of the stairs. They never tired of tossing it and blocking it and catching it. Well, the boys tired of Audrey hogging the ball at one point, but it was resolved and they were back in business.
We packed a Raid the Fridge type of picnic and headed to a shaded park in the area during the showing. After we ate, the kids were magically transformed into jugglers dressed like monkeys who ride unicycles as part of their Amazing vanWestrienen Circus Act. It was a sight. They could go down slides, cross bridges, and wiggle, all while juggling fiery bowling pins or flaming sticks. They pretended I was their mama, then their nana, then a spectator named Gloria who loved their show so much I traveled from Denver to Colorado Springs to Aurora to watch the show. (apparently they've got CO on the brain.) Their persnickety jeep broke down periodically, but they always found the right tool (stick) for the job.
And then this little piece of photographic history took place.
Nothing in particular inspired this fashion statement, but they thought they were stinking hilarious. They were absolutely right.
See. They're crazy. And I love that. Just in case you ever wonder.
We packed a Raid the Fridge type of picnic and headed to a shaded park in the area during the showing. After we ate, the kids were magically transformed into jugglers dressed like monkeys who ride unicycles as part of their Amazing vanWestrienen Circus Act. It was a sight. They could go down slides, cross bridges, and wiggle, all while juggling fiery bowling pins or flaming sticks. They pretended I was their mama, then their nana, then a spectator named Gloria who loved their show so much I traveled from Denver to Colorado Springs to Aurora to watch the show. (apparently they've got CO on the brain.) Their persnickety jeep broke down periodically, but they always found the right tool (stick) for the job.
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| juggling their way down the slide |
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| The Amazing vanWestrienen Circus poses on their jeep |
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| Audrey juggles her flaming stick while dressed like a monkey riding a unicycle |
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| Elliot juggles his flaming stick |
And then this little piece of photographic history took place.
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| I have no words. only WOW. And I'm saving this picture forever. It will come in very handy someday. |
Nothing in particular inspired this fashion statement, but they thought they were stinking hilarious. They were absolutely right.
See. They're crazy. And I love that. Just in case you ever wonder.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
a rainy day at casa vanwestrienen
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| playdough, math, and writing thank you notes |
Letting you in on a secret
Guess what? You know my oldest kid? He's a rock star. He walks by and people shout his name. They wave hysterically to try to get his attention in hopes of a mere glimpse in their direction. He's just that cool.
At least that is how it seemed at family camp this year. You see, five of us headed to Camp Wapo for the weekend to swim and play and exhaust ourselves on fresh air and games and running up and down hills. The twist this year is that Isaac was big enough to go to SEEDS camp, so he stayed in a cabin with 7 other boys and 2 camp counselors and the remaining four vanWestrienens stayed in a building with other family campers from our church. We were on different schedules, although we would see each other randomly around camp. He's been looking forward to it all year. Until Friday. Then the nerves set in along with the reality of how different this weekend would be from his normal life. He said he was nervous and excited and scared and nervous, which I assured him were normal reactions to this new situation.
He prolonged the goodbyes as long as I'd let him, but I stopped it short of letting him come to see our room because I wasn't sure he'd actually leave if I let him in. Hugs and kisses and have funs and see you soons and one last hugs were shared and then there were four. And it was weird. And we missed him.
But it was good, too. Audrey and Elliot got to spend a weekend with one-on-one parenting, a treat in this household. They got to play together in new and different ways that they don't get to or don't think of when Isaac is around. They got to play with the other kids and swim and sing around a campfire and kayak and canoe and roast s'mores. We made a family flag decorated with pictures of our favorite things to do together and a family timeline of the important events in our lives together.
Clearly we had lots and lots of fun. But all activity stopped when someone spotted Isaac. Audrey and Elliot would shriek his name and wave like crazy people. The first time the three saw each other they ran across the empty space like they hadn't seen each other in weeks (it had been 17 hours), arms outstretched, smiles a mile wide, until they met in the middle and made an Audrey sandwich of sibling hugs. It was a sight. At night we asked Audrey and Elliot the best part of their day and the hardest part of their day. Mind you we asked them independently and they both said the best part of a day filled with s'mores and kayaks and friends and swimming was when they saw Isaac.
So, yes, that Isaac boy we are blessed to live with is pretty much a rock star in these parts. Even though he didn't take a shower from Thursday evening until Sunday afternoon because who needs showers at camp? Even though he went from Friday morning until the minute his smelly feet entered our home on Sunday afternoon between teeth brushings because apparently if you don't bathe they figure the stank of your body will overwhelm the scent of decay emanating from your cake hole. We'll gladly overlook those small, yet stinky, details because he's a keeper and coming home with all three kids felt just about perfect.
Although Audrey felt the need to inform me that someday he'll be a grown up and he'll move away from us. I'm choosing to erase that knowledge from my brain.
Now, funny stuff that happened.
1) Jim, Audrey, Elliot, and I took our first kayak ride. That means Audrey was in Jim's lap and Elliot was in my lap and the grown ups had paddles. Are you picturing how crowded this was? Because I'm here to tell you that it was crowded. And the kayak seemed to shrink in size the minute I felt Elliot wiggle in my lap as he said, "I have to potty reallllyyyy badly." Hmm, four people in a two person kayak in the middle of a lake with a kid who's got to pee. Lovely. I somehow got him standing and turned him sideways without tipping the boat. First he was going to pee towards shore but I thought that would be inappropriate, so I faced his little pale butt cheeks toward shore and had him pee toward the center of the lake. Why I think that ranks closer to appropriate on the inappropriate continuum is a mystery, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. He said, "Now all sorts of boats will zoom through my potty." Yes, Elliot. Yes, they will. And do you remember that conversation we had about not drinking lake water!?
2) Audrey and some of the other kids commandeered a hollowed out tree trunk near the dining hall. They spent hours, literally hours, sitting on it, dragging sticks and rocks to it, and living a lovely little make believe life in it. Her favorite pastime was sending kids out to find rocks and sticks so she could arrange them to make a fire. She was in her glory. It was so fun to sit back and watch the kids have the kind of fun that can only be had by mixing sticks, rocks, kids, and a healthy dose of imagination.
3) We found Isaac near the Ga Ga octagon during free time and he was explaining the game to some of us. "I'm kind of a professional at this," he calmly proclaimed. Then he was promptly hit with the ball and "out." Whoops.
4) Audrey and Elliot ate their weight in yogurt and granola this weekend. We eat a lot of yogurt around here, but not the sugary strawberry and vanilla yogurt that they gorged on. We'll do our own little version of sugar detox this week.
5) Elliot slept on the top bunk for the first time. He's a roly poly sleeper, but the bunk was against the wall on two sides and had high railings on the third so we felt good about his chances of keeping his head intact. I'm glad to report it was a success.
6) We passed time playing Three Billy Goats Gruff on the little bridge near the canteen. It was so darling to see the kids and adults act out the different parts and get braver in their silliness the more times we did it.
It was a wonderful weekend to leave the computers and planners at home, spend time together, OD on fresh air, and worship together. It was a wonderful weekend to consider the ways we can see God in our everyday lives. In the big moments, sure, but more importantly, in the day to day moments that make up a life. Those are the moments that must sustain us when life feels hard and houses aren't selling and knees aren't healing like we want them to and parenting feels tricky and marriage is work and family has health concerns and kids get abducted and our fellow human beings starve. This was a great weekend to learn that lesson (again) and to live it. And it was a wonderful Sunday to have three kids in bed at 7 pm because of the aforementioned OD on fresh air combined with late nights of rowdy camp fun. Just in case you ever wonder.
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| There he is. Did you see him? That's him! |
At least that is how it seemed at family camp this year. You see, five of us headed to Camp Wapo for the weekend to swim and play and exhaust ourselves on fresh air and games and running up and down hills. The twist this year is that Isaac was big enough to go to SEEDS camp, so he stayed in a cabin with 7 other boys and 2 camp counselors and the remaining four vanWestrienens stayed in a building with other family campers from our church. We were on different schedules, although we would see each other randomly around camp. He's been looking forward to it all year. Until Friday. Then the nerves set in along with the reality of how different this weekend would be from his normal life. He said he was nervous and excited and scared and nervous, which I assured him were normal reactions to this new situation.
He prolonged the goodbyes as long as I'd let him, but I stopped it short of letting him come to see our room because I wasn't sure he'd actually leave if I let him in. Hugs and kisses and have funs and see you soons and one last hugs were shared and then there were four. And it was weird. And we missed him.
But it was good, too. Audrey and Elliot got to spend a weekend with one-on-one parenting, a treat in this household. They got to play together in new and different ways that they don't get to or don't think of when Isaac is around. They got to play with the other kids and swim and sing around a campfire and kayak and canoe and roast s'mores. We made a family flag decorated with pictures of our favorite things to do together and a family timeline of the important events in our lives together.
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| I love this picture of the happy, content siblings |
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| Audrey took her timeline decorating very seriously |
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| snuggles and fun while we make our timeline |
Clearly we had lots and lots of fun. But all activity stopped when someone spotted Isaac. Audrey and Elliot would shriek his name and wave like crazy people. The first time the three saw each other they ran across the empty space like they hadn't seen each other in weeks (it had been 17 hours), arms outstretched, smiles a mile wide, until they met in the middle and made an Audrey sandwich of sibling hugs. It was a sight. At night we asked Audrey and Elliot the best part of their day and the hardest part of their day. Mind you we asked them independently and they both said the best part of a day filled with s'mores and kayaks and friends and swimming was when they saw Isaac.
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| Isaac and his cabin singing at closing worship |
So, yes, that Isaac boy we are blessed to live with is pretty much a rock star in these parts. Even though he didn't take a shower from Thursday evening until Sunday afternoon because who needs showers at camp? Even though he went from Friday morning until the minute his smelly feet entered our home on Sunday afternoon between teeth brushings because apparently if you don't bathe they figure the stank of your body will overwhelm the scent of decay emanating from your cake hole. We'll gladly overlook those small, yet stinky, details because he's a keeper and coming home with all three kids felt just about perfect.
Although Audrey felt the need to inform me that someday he'll be a grown up and he'll move away from us. I'm choosing to erase that knowledge from my brain.
Now, funny stuff that happened.
1) Jim, Audrey, Elliot, and I took our first kayak ride. That means Audrey was in Jim's lap and Elliot was in my lap and the grown ups had paddles. Are you picturing how crowded this was? Because I'm here to tell you that it was crowded. And the kayak seemed to shrink in size the minute I felt Elliot wiggle in my lap as he said, "I have to potty reallllyyyy badly." Hmm, four people in a two person kayak in the middle of a lake with a kid who's got to pee. Lovely. I somehow got him standing and turned him sideways without tipping the boat. First he was going to pee towards shore but I thought that would be inappropriate, so I faced his little pale butt cheeks toward shore and had him pee toward the center of the lake. Why I think that ranks closer to appropriate on the inappropriate continuum is a mystery, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. He said, "Now all sorts of boats will zoom through my potty." Yes, Elliot. Yes, they will. And do you remember that conversation we had about not drinking lake water!?
2) Audrey and some of the other kids commandeered a hollowed out tree trunk near the dining hall. They spent hours, literally hours, sitting on it, dragging sticks and rocks to it, and living a lovely little make believe life in it. Her favorite pastime was sending kids out to find rocks and sticks so she could arrange them to make a fire. She was in her glory. It was so fun to sit back and watch the kids have the kind of fun that can only be had by mixing sticks, rocks, kids, and a healthy dose of imagination.
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| loving life at family camp |
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| mama and audrey |
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| 3 family camp friends in the famous tree trunk |
3) We found Isaac near the Ga Ga octagon during free time and he was explaining the game to some of us. "I'm kind of a professional at this," he calmly proclaimed. Then he was promptly hit with the ball and "out." Whoops.
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| The "professional" |
4) Audrey and Elliot ate their weight in yogurt and granola this weekend. We eat a lot of yogurt around here, but not the sugary strawberry and vanilla yogurt that they gorged on. We'll do our own little version of sugar detox this week.
5) Elliot slept on the top bunk for the first time. He's a roly poly sleeper, but the bunk was against the wall on two sides and had high railings on the third so we felt good about his chances of keeping his head intact. I'm glad to report it was a success.
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| who's that trip trapping over my bridge? |
It was a wonderful weekend to leave the computers and planners at home, spend time together, OD on fresh air, and worship together. It was a wonderful weekend to consider the ways we can see God in our everyday lives. In the big moments, sure, but more importantly, in the day to day moments that make up a life. Those are the moments that must sustain us when life feels hard and houses aren't selling and knees aren't healing like we want them to and parenting feels tricky and marriage is work and family has health concerns and kids get abducted and our fellow human beings starve. This was a great weekend to learn that lesson (again) and to live it. And it was a wonderful Sunday to have three kids in bed at 7 pm because of the aforementioned OD on fresh air combined with late nights of rowdy camp fun. Just in case you ever wonder.
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| Waiting for worship at the campfire. everyone's smiling. bad light. |
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| elliot looks highly annoyed. good light. |
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| happy canoers |
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| OD'ed on fresh air, day 2 |
Thursday, July 12, 2012
jokes that nerds make
Elliot: "I'm bizarre."
Isaac: "He's a czar. (laughing) Elliot said he's a Russian czar. (cracking himself up laughing) I mean, aren't czars known for being cruel?"
Watch out, Chris Rock. Isaac's on your tail.
Isaac: "He's a czar. (laughing) Elliot said he's a Russian czar. (cracking himself up laughing) I mean, aren't czars known for being cruel?"
Watch out, Chris Rock. Isaac's on your tail.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Celebration
A mama can wish, right?
Audrey has been begging for a construction cake for years, but saw this castle cake and really wanted it so we decided to combine the two. I had grand ideas of a graham cracker road encircling the cake with some construction vehicles driving on it. I asked Elliot to grab a construction vehicle out of the ottoman (don't judge; most of our house is in storage and the rest is hidden away from the very observant eyes of house hunters). Then I went to wash my hands. In that time, he plopped the truck right smack dab in the middle of the castle cake. Not exactly the look I was going for, but it did the trick.
Now, without further ado, the pictures of Audrey (6) and Elliot's (4) Construction/castle party.
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| Isaac was almost as excited as she was for her reebok zigzag shoes |
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| the happy birthday girl |
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| visions of drenching people dance in his head |
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| he had to take a break to check out his Peter Pan book from Great Aunt Beth |
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| We always have to get a 5 generations picture |
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| Grandma Fischer sewed baby clothes for baby Grace and a matching dress for Audrey |
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| Grandma and grandpa fischer |
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| Audrey and mama |
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| the birthday boy with his new strider |
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| WATER FIGHT! |
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| the blond four year old cousins |
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| the birthday boy and his cake |
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| cake close up-find us on a Cake Wars near you. :) |
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| birthday girl and her cake |
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| the smiley kiddos |
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| make a wish |
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| ready to hit the road with his strider |
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| the gang |
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| our crazy kiddos |
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