I'm not sure there's much more to be said, but in case you're not aware of this family's relationship with football, you'll find some enlightenment in this post. I'll let that speak for itself; I need to save my voice for tomorrow.
Oldest Daughter showed up for meeting dressed in exactly the opposite color scheme as her dear old mom:
Totally unintentional, supposedly.
I can't decide: is this just the most passive-aggresive form of teenage rebellion I've ever seen; or is she actually my photo-negative, silently acknowledging that she will someday develop into some version of me?
Saturday found us heading into the city; the Pacific Science Center was wrapping up their showing of the Ripley's Believe It or Not exhibit and, true to form, we waited until the second-to-last day to go check it out. (Because we really love spending our Saturday afternoons milling through crowded buildings with every other procrastinator in western Washington. No, really--we do. I don't know why you don't believe me.)
Fortunately, good company has a way of lending this introvert the courage to face the masses, and so we trapped invited some friends to go along; it was risky, but I just checked--they're still speaking to us. :-9
All aboard!
Warming up on the ferry; everyone's still being polite and smiling nicely...
...but Littlest--well, she can't help herself.
She sure does know how to get a good thing started. :)
Einstein toast art; he's all about the silly faces, too, though.
With...you know...the robot guy from that one movie.
Um....???
Robot model of world's tallest man--he was 8'11".
(And still she throws attitude.)
(Oh, hey--didn't expect to see you here. But then, you probably didn't expect to see me here either, huh? I mean, despite the fact that it's my blog, and all.)
Seriously, guys, what is going ON?
{shrugs shoulders} I don't know. Writer's block again, I guess. What an identity crisis, being a writer who can't write.
Now I'll admit, I sometimes startle myself with the cool stuff I'm able to fluff out, like this one, or that one, or even random ones like this one; it's fun, I sound intelligent--life is good, you know? (Why, yes, this is a blatant attempt to remind you of just how good I can be sometimes.)
And then there are days when I wake up, and all I can think is,
"Me. Want. Cookie."
That's it--that's as good as it gets. (And don't even try to pretend you didn't go back over that quote in your best Cookie Monster voice.)
Well, it's been a "Me.Want.Cookie" couple of months; I don't even know where to begin. Maybe I'll just leave you with a single picture of our beauties, on their way to Uncle Josh and Aunty Bethany's wedding:
Wow--it's been a big weekend. Celebrating my 13th Mama's Day, and the official induction into teenagehood for Oldest Daughter--{gulp}. I can hardly believe it. And I really wish I could whip up something like this birthday post from last year, but, alas, my writer's block has been insurmountable for the past 11 months. It'll come to me...
It was a happy weekend, complete with the coolest glow party this house has ever seen (courtesy of The Uncles, of course), and quiet moments of reflection and remembrance.
Let me start off with pics from the party:
This is *my* sweet, well-we-have-to-give-her-credit-for-trying-I-guess
contribution to the decorations. I'll just note that if you need someone
to hang decorations from the ceiling, maybe a 4-and-a-half foot tall
person will not be the best idea you've ever had.
(To be fair, it was my idea. :-p)
Group shot on the stairs before admission
to the REAL party.
And, {there} you go.
Seriously, brothers?!?! This is how my brothers
subtly let me know that despite the fact that I am the older sister,
they are, and always have been, better than me at everything,
even the pretty, sparkly stuff.
Needless to say, the girls were {thrilled}.
A lighter shot, courtesy of the professional. :)
Does someone want to give me credit for this cool idea?
Okay, fine--it was Pinterest's idea.
These days, aren't they {all} Pinterest's ideas?
Opening presents.
She's gorgeous, no? :')
The grown-ups, seeking respite in the living room.
(And, a call-to-arms in support of the idea that Christmas
lights should not be reserved for Christmas only.)
As you can imagine, Saturday was recovery day, with clean-up and lots of naps involved. Sunday has been sweet, with lunch after meeting with the brothers, and Sean, and some sweet-parents-to-be; and then an amazing surf 'n turf dinner with the brothers--I have never eaten so much crab in my life, I think.
Now, close of day, and another first--first Mother's Day without *my* mama. Tonight, as I drift off to sleep, I will close my eyes, and I will see {her} eyes smiling back at me, and I will be made infinitely grateful again for lessons learned and impressions made during her short time here.
(Don't forget to hit pause on my playlist in the upper right sidebar.)
This was the slideshow Mom's sons created for her service; the opening track is a song our dad wrote as a teenager. The last 4 minutes or so of the slideshow were added later to include moments from our final farewell to our precious mom. I hesitate to use the word "perfect" to describe anything other than God's will for our lives, but I'll make an exception here; this day was a {perfect} tribute to her life. I miss her every day.
Words don't come easily this evening, but it's been on my mind to update the blog, and so here I are. :)
Our time home on the Big Island was precious, and something I am still unable to write about. We returned home to Washington at the end of July, and have enjoyed sweet days full of sunshine, friends and family, and for myself, a constant, aching awareness of having "one less"--miss you, Mom.
And, now, the easy part:
Finn Turns 4
He happens to be one of our favorites. :)
We Go to the Blackberry Festival
Blackberry Festival on the Bremerton Boardwalk
(Need I mention Kiana took the following 4 awesome shots? Nah-I didn't think so.)
Littlest.
Middlest.
Also the Littlest.
(Well, he used to be; then he turned 3.)
Bossy. I mean, BossMan.
Heading home, waiting in the car for Daddy.
We Eat a Lot of Sweets,
and Hang Out with Uncle Kale
She's at it again--my baker extraordinaire. She has gifted us with brownies,blackberry cobbler, cookie pies, and this "back-to-school!" cake; I assure you, it has all gone to waist. :-9
There are more fun shots from this day, but I am too lazy and/or law-abiding to hijack them from him.
The Girls Pick Blackberries
at Dorothy's Place
Our gracious hostess.
Miki eventually gave up being sneaky about
popping every other blackberry into her mouth.
♥
Happy girl!
SweetTart.
Fresh air, fresh fruit, and a cool old barn--sweet.
(Oh, and some silly geese. :D )
Checking in again, with thoughts more random and irrelevant than usual. Let's just jump right in, shall we?
Ain't Nothing Gonna Break-a My Stride
Okay--agreed: I'm a short person with short legs, making for a short stride. Throw in a usually laid-back personality, and you're not likely to find me first in line at...well, anywhere.
However. (And there is almost always a "however.")
Sometimes, you'll find me moving more slowly than usual--not by my own choice, but...(wait for it)....because the person in front of me is moving slowly. (I know--you're just so accustomed to blaming the short girl.) With that in mind, I just wanted to let you know: if you think that elbowing your way past me is going to solve your problem, I assure you--it won't. Often, that urge in you to "big-body" your way past me, creates an urge in me to stomp your toe, or stick my foot out to trip you as you ga-lump on by--none of you ever look graceful as you pull this move, FYI. Maybe these guys can help you improve your technique and style:
You have been warned; take heed. (And if you insist on continuing this way, maybe wear steel-toed boots until your situational awareness starts improving.)
I know; I'm such an angry elf. :-9
Keep trying, DoRe'
Made it to Zumba on Saturday morning; it was a full class, and after bumping elbows a few times with the lady next to me, I encouraged her to take the empty spot in the row ahead of us; she was the better Zumba-er, and I didn't want to embarrass myself dancing in front of her. There was a minor language barrier, but, before she took her place as Queen of Zumba Of The Second-To-Last Row, I'm pretty sure the gist of her (very sweet and sincere) response was that she, too, was not a very good dancer when she first started, but after coming for a year, she improved;I would get it eventually, she assured me. (For those that don't know me, I have been doing Zumba for a year. More, actually.)
Ouch--I think I'll file that one under "Reality Check." ;-)
And here's that picture again.....
It's been confirmed--I'm a rightie. :-9
Now, switching gears to the really interesting humans in this household....
Genetic predisposition
That would seem to be the case, anyway; all five Recaido granddaughters have performance and recording credits to their names. :) The girls put a few more under their belts this past week: Kiana and Mikela, with a piano and voice recital last Saturday; Mikela and Malia, with parts in their school's production of "The Emporer's New Clothes" (Miki on Tuesday, Malia on Friday).
"When You Wish Upon a Star..."
Getting ready to sing "Amazing Grace."
Performing "Beauty and the Beast."
Singing "Wind Beneath My Wings."
Baby Chorus Girl.
They all did well, as expected. :) I mentioned on Facebook my delight at realizing my littlest chorus girl had memorized and was singing along to every song, including the solos. :D She did sing quietly, but had a much harder time controlling the expressions on her face--she always speaks volumes with her eyebrows. (Which makes her a pretty fantastic storyteller. :D)
Well, I was hoping to have one more segment here, but I'm having a hard time working it out; guess it'll make its way into a post another time. Before I go, look at this:
It's good for me to see that hair in all its glory;
as her personal stylist, it definitely has its challenges. ;-)
Having such a hard time getting started this morning--no energy, but not tired enough to fall back into bed and properly recharge; maybe this extra cup of coffee will help....
You read; I'll sip.
A dialogue:
The other night, in a conversation I won't find nearly as funny once the girls start dating (so, like, in 30 years, or so), Malia, aka Kolohe Girl, was teasing her sister about a certain boy who shall remain nameless:
Malia (chanting): You like him! Kiana likes ________! Kiana looooves ______!
Kiana (with a silly little grin): Yeah....and?
Malia: Well....(think...think..think)...well, I like him, too! I like _____! I'm going to marry him. He's mine, he's mine, he's mine! (insert evil Malia laugh here.)
Mom (interjecting): Nuh-uh, Malia; nobody belongs to anybody. You belong to Mom, and Dad, and God; when you find someone who will take better care of you than I can, you can date him. Until then, nuh-uh.
(Apparently, I don't believe in waiting to contradict myself. No, sir; I like to do it in the very next breath.)
Kiana: Aha! See, Malia? Mom said you can't date anyone until they can take better care of you than she can. Wait....(brief contemplative pause, and then, the golden question)...
"...is that even possible?"
:D :D :D
Well-played, Oldest Daughter; well-played.
I bestow upon you 1 BILLION Good Daughter points; now, go in peace.
An open letter:
Dear "Anonymous Comment Leavers,"
When I was a young girl, I often dreamed of having a secret admirer who would shower me with expressions of loving kindness and good deeds. Of course, I had none. (I survived.)
Unfortunately, this idea no longer holds the same appeal for the grown-up me. I still gratefully receive expressions of loving kindness and good deeds (preferably in the form of Starbuck's), but feel a little more comfortable knowing exactly from whose heart they come.
So, don't be shy; reveal thyself, Friend! I bare my soul in some of these posts; I really like to know who's relating. So, text me, shoot me an email, message me on Facebook; help me save face (I'm a big "fail!" when it comes to trying to figure out who's who; I've done it once or twice, I think. :-9).
Thank you, and I probably love you, too,
DoRe'
An experiment:
(Well, okay; it didn't start out as one, but it sure was telling.)
I'm Sexy, and I Know it.
If we're friends on Facebook, this may look familiar; it was my profile pic for a few days. I posted it after Kiana and Jeannie created and presented it to me; honestly, I was just stoked they remembered I existed. (Teenagers. ;-9)
So, here's what I learned:
Purple actually isn't my color. Bummer.
Most people aren't even paying attention (and that's a good thing). As the stunning 4-and-a-half-foot-tall curvalicious beauty that I am, there are some days when it feels like 87.4% of Silverdale's population is staring at me; it's enough to make a (half-)grown woman consider the possibility that she may look, you know....different. (I wouldn't mind it so much if people would at least smile back when I notice them staring, but they can't, it seems; I have to presume it's taking their entire mental capacity to figure out exactly what is going on--"Is that a woman? Is that a child? Oh, wait--I think she's a movie star! Didn't she play one of the Oompa Loompas in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?") And now I'm going to contradict myself again: when I posted this picture, the response was....nothing. Nada. For a few days, at least. Finally, one brave soul, possessing the truth and grace of an enduring friend, broached the subject with a simple ".....?...." and then, her honest opinion of "Meh. I now have a deeper appreciation for your natural beauty." :D Anyway, long story short (um...too late, DoRe'), I was reminded again that 1) the world does not revolve around me, and 2) I can be who I be, be it whatever it be, and still be okay; no one's staring at me! (This sentence inspired by Dr. Seuss, of course.) Of course, there is also the distinct possibility that:
My friends think I'm capable of some pretty major fashion atrocities. To see this, and not be able to confidently laugh it off because you're not so certain it's a fake, and you don't want to hurt my feelings just in case I actually did go out and PUT PURPLE STRIPES IN MY HAIR? Come on, you guys! Nothin' wrong with purple stripes, but, really--ME?! We need to spend more time together, apparently, and get reacquainted.
And now, the Good Stuff:
That picture was horrible; let me make it up to you with some shots of my gorgeous nieces participating in their first Hula Drama.
These girls, while not mine by birth, take their places in my heart right next to my own daughters; I love you, Cali and Kawena.
These fantastic photos were included in the book the girls made for me for Mother's Day;
the following shots were not.
(Thank goodness.)
These faces were meant to hide the fact that
I cried like a baby when I opened this gift.
They also highlight the fact that I am a complete dork.
I am aware of this.
So, the girls finally learned their lesson:
The key to surprising Mom
(Master Skeptic and Finder-Outter-of-All-Surprises)
is to leave Dad
(Guy-Who-Can't-Keep-A-Secret-To-Save-His-Life)
completely out of the loop until his (credit card) involvement is absolutely necessary.
Even then, he still came thisclose to slipping up, but they managed to pull it off.
Looking for something? You may find it here. (Then again, you may not.)
Thought for Today
“Your children are not your children. They are sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you. And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the make upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness. For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He also loves the bow that is stable.”
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
Marianne Williamson, "A Return to Love"
Resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant with the weak and the wrong. Sometime in life you will have been all of these.
