Diamond Head Hike

Our good friends from Kirksville, the Jenks, are visiting Hawaii this week. So we were delighted to touch base with them and got to have them stay with us Sunday night. The girls were so disappointed when they got home today and found out they weren't still hanging around ready to play with them! 

The boys and I went with them to Diamond Head to do the hike this morning though... or at least that was the idea! They met up with the rest of their family so we beat them there and started a little bit before them. While it would have been fun to hike with them and chat a bit, I really relished the rare opportunity to just spend time with my little man. Max chilled the whole time, easy peasy. Except lemme tell you-- that kid has put on a few! Holy crap, I need a massage!

Roman, on the other hand, was a little chatterbox. At first he was very worried about our friends and wanted to wait for them. I didn't know how far behind us they were, but had a pretty decent idea that they would be moving a bit faster than we would anyway-- so I encouraged us to keep going. The entire hike up, he was either challenging me to run with him, to watch out for The Peoples (he's always very concerned about The Peoples. You just don't know about them.), to rest cause he was tired, to watch for Bad Guys in the tunnel, to look what he found right dere (generally speaking bits of garbage), or driving what he found right dere along the trail. Which got somewhat inconvenient for The Peoples coming and going up and down that narrow trail.  He wanted me to take pictures of him-- because The Peoples had their cameras out and it looked like a pretty good idea. I didn't bring ours, so all I had was my little camera phone- hence the subpar quality. Maybe I shoulda done some cool edits to mask that.  Meh. It's late.

He liked this thing here on one of the lookouts. Kept calling it a boat. Not sure where he got that idea, but ok. 

When we got to the top, The Peoples who had passed us on the way up congratulated him on making it, exclaiming, "Good job little guy! You made it!" At which point he threw the same over his shoulder to me, "Mom, we made it!" Such a trooper. When we got to the bunkers at the top, he naturally had to run all over and look everywhere and climb on top of everything. This is his victory dance after his best climb.

He was pretty proud of himself.

Climbing back down required pictures as well. The highest lookout has steep, almost ladder-like stairs. On the way back down them some guy offered to help Roman down. Not interested. Off he went, down those ladderstairs all on his own. I turned around in time to see the guy lifting his 6-7 year old son down. Huh.

"Mom, we can't get in it, cause it's lucky water, huh."
(Yes, he says "lucky" for "yucky". I love it so much.)

He was also carefully examining his little treasures he'd found on the trail and was decently concerned about dropping them in. I of course reinforced that concern by informing him that if they fell we'd have to leave them because the water is too lucky to get them out. 

He got down pretty quick after hearing that. 

We met Amy & Jeff & some of their family on the way back down and it was fun to chat with them briefly as well. Roman was pretty happy we got to talk to our friends, but was annoyed we couldn't ride in their car with them. (They were in a van. Like a 15-20 seater I'm guessing since they had around 18 people there. Yeah. I don't think we'll get to ride with them.)

He was ok once he remembered we got to ride in the lobster car, though. That's pretty cool. 

Poor Max was so tired-- I turned him around in the baby carrier so he was facing in about a quarter of the way back down and he went straight to sleep without hesitating at all. 

My favorite part of the hike? Having the time to enjoy going slow and letting him explore. To see what things would catch his attention. What little treasures he found or special little wonders he noticed. Like the little cave in the wall "for garbage". Or the "boat". Or his attitude towards all The Peoples. I feel like I've been so rushed lately, trying to cram so many things into our lives, so much play time or beach time or whatever that I don't have time to enjoy my kids. My goal right now is to slow down a bit. Learn to say "no". Not try to do everything or invite everyone. Not try to run faster than I have strength.

Rainstorm!

The past few days have been pretty rainy around here.

Last night it started POURING rain, it was honestly pretty crazy. In fact, it's still raining now. Hasn't let up much. Being from Idaho this seriously boggles my mind. It turned thunderstorm last night, too, there was one thunderclap that about made my heart stop-- it set off a car alarm in our neighborhood!

Anyway, before all that, the kids wanted to go watch the rainstorm from the garage. I wasn't home, I was checking out our awesome new Boston Red Hyundai Veloster (or the "VeLobster" as we've fondly dubbed it- thanks Crystal) that gets.... wait for it.... FORTY mpg on the highway. Yeah. And it's not even a hybrid. It's so new they haven't even completely prepped it for owners such as ourselves to take it home. So it's still there, but I got to go sit in it. Yay!

So... sidetracked. Back to the story at hand. Derek was in charge, just fed the kids dinner and was cleaning up, doing dishes like the amazing husband he is and okay-ed the garage venture. 

Next thing he knows.....

Ooo good idea!

Shirts are superfluous in a rainstorm.

They look pretty proud of themselves. 

In case you weren't aware of what a guttersnipe/street urchin looks like, here is a picture of four of them. 

Of course my little Avril claimed to be the mastermind behind all of the shenanigans. She looks the part, eh? 

Daddy Feeds The Baby.... and Other Stories

For a committed breastfeeding mom, solid food is somewhat of a relief. Particularly when The Baby is also a Boob Snob and turns his nose up at bottles of any kind. This boy is far too discriminating to accept anything less than The Real Thing. Why take a rubber nipple when if you scream long enough you can get the real deal? 

On the other hand, he has now happily accepted a sippy cup. Apparently, as long as you're not trying to trick him into an inferior substitute and simply giving him an alternative thirst quencher, that's permissible. 

Anyway, Derek has been spearheading the whole solids thing. It's SO nice to not be the only food source for this little ball and chain. I mean, of course the greedy mommy part of me comes out sometimes and I miss being his sole support... but mostly I enjoy the increased independence for both of us.

 Max has been super interested in People Food in general lately, he always wants to get his hands on whatever we're eating. I was snarling some BBQ potato chips the other day and he kept going for 'em, trying to grab my hand and pull it to his mouth. I had to fight the little gremlin off! But I let him lick my fingers clean after. He loved that. 

So far:

~Rice cereal- check

~Oatmeal cereal- check

~Applesauce- check

~Carrots- check

~Graham crackers- check

~Bananas- gag

~Peas- check

We'll revisit those bananas later. Peaches next I think. 

Meanwhile, other milestones:

~Rolls over both ways~

~Pushes himself up to sitting~

~Grabs hair to pull faces in for slobbery open-mouth kisses~

~Has siblings wrapped around his little finger~

~Adept at clinging to/clawing any exposed neck skin~

~Sleeps 10-12 hours every night~

~Able to communicate with/like yowling tomcats~

~Blows spit bubbles~

~EVERYTHING goes in the mouth- everything~

~Knows his momma-- and how to sucker her~

~Hand stands- but not the kind you're thinking~

~Rocks on hands and knees/feet~

~About this close to crawling any day now~

~Bouncing in his Johnny Jumper~

~Giggles uncontrollably when getting belly zerbets~

Speaking of his belly, I've recently become concerned about his lack of a shell. Maybe I shouldn't worry about it so much, I suppose my other kids have survived so far without one. But his soft little underbelly just seems so unprotected. And delicious. 

If I were a predator, I would be all over that. 

I'm just sayin'. 

Derek Turns 32

Since we were babysitting for some friends who went off-island for a couple of days this weekend, we postponed birthday celebrations till today. Derek had to work most of the weekend, anyway, so it worked out.

We kept things low-key this year and just did gifts and cake at home. The best gift-- or at least the one I'm most pleased with is the embroidery on his white coat. 

Now, if I were a truly thoughtful wife, I would have had this done two years ago as a med school graduation present. Or maybe even last year for his intern graduation. Or maybe even after he specifically asked for it. Which may have actually coincided with that last graduation. In which case I claim "mommy brain" since I was most definitely pregnant at the time. 

But we've already discussed my deficiencies in that department, so better late than never, right guys?

I used to get swords for the man for every birthday. I would totally still do that... except. We live in Hawaii and E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G rusts. So, next best thing....

dark chocolate.

Oh wait, there's one thing better than dark chocolate.

Acai berries combined with blueberries covered in dark chocolate.

And then a few things for the guy who loves snacks... his favorite ones. 

Notice a common theme here, anyone?

 Yes, I admit it. His birthday was basically a thinly disguised grocery shopping trip.

I mean, they say the way to a man's heart is his stomach. I went with it. 

Happy Birthday anyway, honey. We love you!

Bedtime Setup

The boy loves his toys.

Ramen for Roman

Roman wanted to put cinnamon and sugar on his Ramen for lunch the other day even though I advised against it.

He did anyway. He didn't eat it.

When I told him to come and sit down and eat his lunch, he refused and said it was "too soggy."

I giggled and didn't press it.

In other news, we've got frogs in our milk. Two floaters and one at the bottom chillin with a finger monster. 

Give you three guesses how it got there.

Snowflakes!

There's something about doing snowflakes that leaves me waxing nostalgic. Forgive the rambling-- I'm just going to let my memories flow.

As a kid, the best Christmas memories are the ones I had at Grandma & Grandpa Hunter's house. We'd go over and crack nuts and eat 'em like candy. Grandpa always loved peanuts and we'd eat 'em by the handful. I loved getting the little nutcracker out and going for the walnuts, or the almonds, or the Brazil nuts out of the little nut bowl. 

Grandma would always have some sweet treat made up for us, too. I always remember the peanut brittle she'd make. It'd make my teeth stick together for that second after biting down- you know, so you'd have to pry your own mouth open for the next bite. Or we'd help make snickerdoodles or chocolate chip cookies. The snickerdoodles were always my favorite. I loved rolling them into balls and licking the sugar and cinnamon off my fingers. 

 When I was really little we'd go downstairs with Grandpa or Janis and add more wood to the old furnace. They always had so much wood in that basement. I loved the smell of it. And the cellar door that led into the giant wood room. I was always scared going down those creaky old steps without backs that something was going to reach through and grab my ankles. I had to remind myself that I was too old to get scared over silly things like that. But I always felt better when that basement door was closed. 

I liked going down to the laundry room or the storage room with Janis or Grandma, too, and seeing what was down there. I was always so curious about the various knickknacks and things in jars. Right now I can't really remember what was down there. The lightbulbs were always so dim, it had such a mysterious feel to it. I felt like I was privy to some special secret when we were down there. I always hoped there would be some secret treasure chest or something to discover. 

While the adults sat and talked, we'd sit and do puzzles and play with dolls. When I got older, I'd snuggle up in the chair next the new furnace Dad installed with a pile of old issues of Reader's Digest. I'd pore over them, looking for all the funnies at the end of every article. Every once in a while, I'd laugh out loud at something and interrupt whatever conversation was going on to share it with everyone in the room. 

And snowflakes. I'm pretty sure it was Janis that taught me how to fold a paper and cut it so it would look like a snowflake. It was always so exciting to watch as the paper unfolded to find what new kind of snowflake I'd created. They were pretty disappointing at first. But Janis's snowflakes were always works of art. Those dull little kids scissors I had to use at first always hurt my hands, cutting through all that paper. They were the old metal kind, with the circle handles. I'd just stretch out my hands between cuts and keep going, though.

Ah, the magic of childhood. Winter at Grandma and Grandpa's. The warmth of the fire. The smell of good things cooking. The quietness and the security of those days. Things were so very different then. I'm so grateful to have these memories.

This year, I decided it was time. My kids don't have an Aunt Janis anywhere near (ah, the one bad thing about living in Hawai'i!) so the duty fell to me to pass on the sacred tradition. And while I do say that slightly tongue in cheek, there is definitely a part of me for which that is the solemn truth. This year I had the art of the snowflake figured out a little more- thanks to self-described "artist/dork" Kristina Ackerman and her absolutely hilarious Paper-snowflake placemat post. Trust me, you wanna read this girl's blog. And watch the overworked face-ham video she linked to describe, well, basically all my first attempts at snowflake making--- and let's be honest--- my kids' too.

I mean, see for yourself. 
(Forgive the crappy lighting. Haven't completely figured out night pictures yet.)