WhineFest (Sorry.)

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. ;-)

All for now--

Happy Monday!



A Very Random, No-Cry Post (I promise.)

Thursday, Thursday, Thursday....

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.)

Kiana (still grinning, rolls eyes):  Okay, Malia....whatever.

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.

Cali

Kawena

She's the real deal, people.

This literally takes my breath away.

♥

Happy Thursday!

Mama's Day Gift

Well, I may as well be up-front about it:

This post will be a bragfest. 

A long-overdue, straight-up, oh-no-she-di'int,

oh-yes-I-think-I-DID bragfest.

But, really; how can I not?

♥ ♥ ♥

My girls, with the sweet brown eyes.

Just hangin' out.

One of my favorites of Miki. Ever.  ♥

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.

♥ I am thrilled. ♥

As usual, photography credits go to Bethany Raelene Studio;

gorgeous model credits go to Kiana, Mikela, and Malia.

I heard Josh was whining about not getting any credit for hauling that chair out to the field for the shoot; here you go, Bruddah ChairMan. 

(What a diva.)

Up the hill.

Down the hill.

I think it was worth it.
(And he's a definite keeper. ♥)

Hope you had a great weekend;

Happy Monday!

Words Fail Me...

...as they so often do,
when I consider these children
that Daniel and I have been entrusted with.

And what to write of this child,
who was first to call me "Mama"?

Who, with first heartbeat, and first breath, and tiny hand wrapped tightly around my finger,

helped usher me into this sweet/amazing/terrifying
era of motherhood?
 

Her eyes speak of  kindness,

her lips bear truth,

and her heart (though rarely worn on her sleeve),

lives within easy reach of any who need compassion.

She turns 12 today.

12 seems like a funny age to be a milestone,

but it always has been for this writer.  

13 marks the official induction into "teendom,"

where people expect you to start screaming

declarations of independence.

But 12...

...well, "12" is the quiet shifting of the tide,

when the waters are drawn less and less 

toward the safe shores of home,

and more often toward the depths of the wide open sea,

with all its possibility, and a seemingly endless horizon.

I have been watching and waiting quietly for this shift,

and it has come.

I thought I was watching and waiting from the shore,

but, no; 

I am the shore.

She ventures away more often

to explore every corner of her existence;

sometimes, I am lonely for her, even as she sits beside me.

Each time she goes, she takes a bit of herself, grain by grain, and I want to shout,

"Bring that back here, young lady!"

But it was never mine, always hers,

resting safely on this shore, only mine to hold

until she was strong enough to reclaim it,

and carry it away.

Away over the ocean, away from me,

to her own place, to her own being,

shifting, churning, swirling,

until, finally, she will settle

 and she will become a safe shore for her own children.

But for today, she lingers,

because, she, too, senses the shift,

and today is not a day to be drawn away.

Today she will sit upon this shore, and scan the horizon,

and, just for today,

she will be in no hurry to get there. 

Hau'oli la hanau, love.

*I have to go through this 2 more times?!?!  Ack! ;-D

Speaking of Unicorns...

Saw this somewhere recently (maybe someone else's blog?):

Ha!  I love it.

Happy Wednesday!

An Oldie but Goodie

I came across this old favorite of mine:

  

What?  Like beef?*

I can never decide if she looks more like Mommy or Daddy in this one....

Happy Tuesday!

*"What are you lookin' at, fool?  Would you like to fight on this fine day?" 

:)

Hi, all; long time no see. :)  Thought I'd attempt to check in here; I'm experiencing a very minimal level of guilt over being MIA for the last few weeks, as I see I'm not the only one. ;-)

Summarily: 

We're doing well.  Anticipating the arrival of summer, horrendous seasonal allergies aside.  Keeping busy with school, work, swimming, ballet, piano and voice, and hula.  Well, then.  No wonder I feel like I'm always going somewhere.


Randomly:

National Public Radio: Cooler Than it Used to Be

It's official: National Public Radio is about to become one of my radio station presets; am I really old enough for that?   If I had to describe NPR's primary listener demographic, I'd say, "A more mature audience of people who are, like, my parents' age, and stuff."  But do you realize that that would also be my daughter's response to the same question?  And we'd both be right, but how weird to think my children think I'm old  "mature." (!)  I have no right to be offended; I vividly recall being 6-years-old, and thinking that my 28-year-old mother was so pretty, despite being positively ancient. :)  Funny things, perspectives. 

Speaking of NPR...

So, I love NPR--we've cleared that up.  Their programming is very diverse, covering a wide range of fascinating topics (well, most of the time, anyway).  I am constantly amazed at the ideas presented, and just at how smart people can be; the expressions of intelligence I hear every day, well...some days, it just blows my mind.  By the same token, I am also reminded that there are a lot of dummies "intelligence-challenged" people out there, and that eloquence and intelligence do not always go
hand-in-hand; just because someone can articulate their point well, does not necessarily mean that they have a good point, and vice-versa. This brings me some relief, as I lack eloquence in the spoken word; if intelligence was judged solely by how well we speak, I'd be wearing a dunce cap. (Remember those?)  If you suspect that this may also be a veiled admission that my eloquence in writing is also not an accurate reflection of my intelligence, you would be correct; so I may or may not be as smart or unsmart as you or I thought I was.  Got it? :D (If all else fails, confuse 'em.)


Our Daughter Almost Ran Away From Home Last Week
(And It's Not the Daughter You Would've Expected It To Be)

This is a mildly surreal experience, to realize that your child:

1. thinks things have gotten so bad around your house that wandering off into the wild gray yonder (this is Washington, folks) with only the shirt on her back and last week's allowance would be an appealing option; and, 
2. that she has reached an age where she actually believes it is a distinct possibility that she could survive on her own without you, particularly because I'm not sure I'll ever really feel that way.  But, seriously: as far as I understand, the idea of being apart from Mom for more than a day is, for Youngest Daughter, the stuff of nightmarish fairytales; not so for certain others of my offspring, apparently. 

All's well that ends well; once she reached the end of our (very short) driveway, she could not decide whether she wanted to go left or right, giving Daddy enough time to convince her to make the (very short) trek back home.  :)  Interestingly enough, this experience inspired confessions to the fact that her sisters had, on separate occasions, also entertained the idea of running away from home, but ultimately decided against it, as they did not want to deal with the hassle of packing their stuff.  I'm conflicted--am I relieved or ashamed that it was essentially a poor work ethic that kept my children from running away from home?  I'll get back to you on that one.

I Know How Elephants Kiss, and Other Little Gems

This is the kind of stuff Youngest Daughter thinks about; our lives are full of very random and generally unverifiable bits of trivia she serves up daily.  She shares this wisdom, in full Technicolor detail, with such sincerity and conviction, putting to good use her huge brown eyes and funny little lisp; you really can't help but consider the possibility that what she's saying is true.  It's things like this that broaden my horizons, open up my world, and cause me to Google things I would have otherwise never thought to Google.  (There are videos on YouTube of elephants kissing.  In case you were wondering.)

It's "Eat Korean Fried Chicken" Day

Okay; it's not.  Technically, it's Noah's 20th birthday--hau'oli la hanau, Baby Brother!  April and May are busy birthday months around here--Mom, Dad, Uncle Rob, and others of my mother's siblings are April babies, plus Miki's 1/2 birthday!;  Noah kicks off the May birthdays, with Kiana, Terry, and quite a few of our close friends following after. 



Noah, being closer in age to his eldest nieces than he is to his eldest sisters has, in my mind, sort of served as a bridge between the generations.  Having a teen-aged brother somehow made the transition into my own "grown-upness" a little easier; I feel like I get to linger in my own youth a little bit longer because of it, even as I take on the responsibility of raising my own children.  Funny, eh?  I'm going to take a moment here to get mushy, and my sister will join me in this simple and inarguable sentiment: we have THE BEST brothers.  I cannot convey the depth of gratitude I have for these young men, and the love and care and interest they show to us, and our husbands, and our children; the love and enthusiasm their nieces have for them is indicative of the time and energy they put into being present in the girls' lives, and for this, I am thankful.  (In case you're wondering, my sister and I have established between ourselves that our brothers could not ask for better sisters; voting on that issue is now closed. :-9)


Well, I think I need to wrap this up; time marches on, and I've some chicken to prep. More writing later, maybe, as brain cells allow.

Before I go, check out this pink unicorn:

Love the green hoofhands.

The unicorn looks a little oppressed in this shot

Ooohh....THAT'S what the horn is for.

In case you hadn't figured it out:
it's the Mikster. :)

 

:)

It's Aloha Friday!

Have a GREAT weekend!

Ah....much better--I like this background.

If you happened to stop by my blog the other night, you may have gotten caught in the crossfire of my indecision--it was the eve of the first day of the month, also known around here as "The Changing of DoRe's Blog Background Day," in the more rural areas of my insanity.  For a few short hours, my blog appeared to have been the scene of a massive Easter egg explosion, pastels screaming across the page, with pinks, and blues, and greens galore.  It was cute, and seasonally appropriate, but when I logged on the next morning (or was it still that night?), it was an experience akin to this Hawaiian looking at a mirror, and seeing a tall, thin, blue-eyed blonde--it just wasn't "me."  (Although, if the mirror experience actually ever did happen,  I might not feel the need to change things so quickly. :-9)  Now, moving on....

...And I'm back.  This post got shelved the other night; it was much too late for me to try and be coherent, as the paragraph above indicates. :-9  I've been avoiding a post, as it feels like there could be so much to talk about; I don't even know where to begin, or if most of it is even significant enough to be taking up as much brain space as I allow.  I'm just going to let the fingers do the talktyping, and see where this goes; thank goodness for the editability of this medium. :) 

In no particular order:

Songbirds:

Oldest and Middle Daughters had opportunity last month to participate in a couple of concerts through the school district.  As usual, I was MIA where photography is concerned, so here are the scant few I could rustle up (thanks, Dad):



Kiana, the Soloist. :)
 ("Amazing Grace")

 


Halfy Birthday, Malia!

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you'll remember we celebrate half birthdays; this year is no exception.  Malia is now officially 7-and-a-half, as of March 17th.




Malia's Irish roots coming out here--she looks slightly leprechaun-ish, I think. :D


Okay, I need to regroup here; I started writing this post on Saturday night, and it is now Tuesday-turning-into-Wednesday.  I am having a remarkably difficult time uploading photos; I'm going to try to get one of Miki on here, and then this is turning into a "words-only" post.


Princess FrogFeet:

Ever the trendsetter, Middle Daughter saved up her allowance, and picked up a pair of these to add to her extensive shoe collection:

Miki's version of "Happy Feet."



Happy Miki. :)

For those who don't know, those are Vibram FiveFingers.  Super comfy, but wearing them in public may require more self-esteem than I possess at this point. :)  Miki, she's got no problems. :D 
Ack--I give up.  I think this is it for now--I'm exhausted.  This post is incomplete, but if I don't publish now, it may never happen.  If I don't show up again soon, we're having a great spring break, complete with sleepovers, pool time, stomach flu, sleeping in, a little bit of sun, a little bit of rain, and so on.  Hope all is well in your corner of the world...Happy Tuesday!





New Specs

I got new glasses last week....you like?

Right there.  On my face.  Where eyeglasses usually go.

In case you're needing a frame of reference,

here's what I usually look like, without the cool new specs:



I would win a Noah look-alike contest with this one. 

See? 
Totally unintentional, but it worked out well. :)

Just kidding. :D

Because blogging is serious business.

I've actually got better stuff to write about, but midnight is fast approaching, and I try to be asleep by that magic hour.  I'm hopeful to find some time to catch up tomorrow, but we'll see, eh? 

Hope you've had a great weekend--Happy Sunday!

Work in Progress

Meh...this is what I get for logging on at bedtime--an ugly blog.  (And ugly frown lines, from glowering at an ugly blog.)  

Sorry. 

Come back in a few days; things may look better.  (I'm not making any promises, though.)  Before you leave, check out the Recaidos, over the years:

First, there was *me.*  And only *me.*  The whole world revolved around *me.* 
As you can imagine, this was a very dark and lonely period in my life;
having teddy bears with perpetually surprised looks on their faces
as your best friends ain't all it's cracked up to be.

I had to wait five years for this girl to show up. 
She then proceeded to show me up in, um, everything:
cuteness, intelligence, ambition, drive.
Love you, sis.

Along came Joshy the Wonder Boy, next great leader of the free world.
Keala looks less than thrilled; was it her newly-acquired sibling rivalry,
or the matching purple sailor dresses?

Oh, look--Kale showed up, and he's making denim overalls and an aloha shirt look good! 
This was only the beginning of a lifetime of being better than everybody
at everything; I think Josh was still trying to come to terms with that, at this point.

Apparently, it took us a few years to decide if we actually wanted a
family picture with Noah in it; I'm glad we decided to go ahead with it. :)
His arrival on this earth 15 years after my own spaceship landed was a welcome
surprise; he has kept us grounded through many experiences,
carrying a joy as infectious as his hilarious little girl giggles very deep, manly laugh.
Love you, baby brother! :D

::Made thankful again to have ended up in this bunch::

Remember to smile--it's Aloha Friday!