Living with Chase

You know you're living with Chase when...



June 6th is celebrated with all the fanfare of a national holiday.

And in spite of yourself, you know exactly what Operation Overlord is referring to.

You know you're living with Chase when you spend your Sunday morning listening to facts about the D-Day invasion, with him not sparing any of the gory details.

No matter that you're eating breakfast.

You know you're living with Opa's Mini-Me Chase when a first-edition book by Bill Mauldin shows up on your doorstep from the Opa. And is immediately devoured by a blue-eyed boy who treasures it with a reverence not usually seen in kids his age. Especially when it comes to things like old books.

You know you're living with Chase when you are encouraged forced to make a flag cake in honor of the fallen heroes.

And you are told that it must have no more than 13 stripes and no less than 50 stars. "Because anything other than that would be an insult to our country, Mom."

You know you're living with Chase when the phone rings early Sunday morning and it's Opa calling to wish your son a happy D-Day. A call which leaves him beaming from ear to ear, proud and thrilled to know that someone out there feels the exact same way that he does.

And, finally, you know you're living with Chase when you realize six months ahead of time that the next important holiday in his world will roll around on December 7th.

So you'd better get working on your stars. We can't have crooked stars on the flag.

Even if it's only a cake.

How to have a spontaneous vacation (and survive it)

The poor gator we brought back home with us. Yes, it's totally real.

As you have no doubt been reading ad nauseam, we took a little trip down to Naples, Florida last week. It was completely a spur-of-the-moment thing, turned out to be fantastic --and was absolutely worth it.

I learn a lot every time we take a trip anywhere, and this one was no exception. Thought I'd share a few things I learned with you, in case you find yourself in a similar situation.

1. Don't be afraid to say yes. When your husband says, "I am going to be in Florida for an extended business trip, want to come?" Say yes, even if you are afraid you will not get cheap flights at the last minute. Say yes, even if it is the last week of school and you will have to pull your kids out, forcing them miss most of the fun parties, field days, and concerts. Say yes, even if it seems like an insane thing to do.

For when you sit under that beach umbrella with your husband, watching your babies play in the surf, you will both turn to look at each other at the exact same moment and say, "IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT."

Besides, airfare will be surprisingly cheap. And kids won't necessarily care about the parties at the end of the year. Family memories and time together will last a lifetime. They are only this age once.

2. Do not be afraid to check the rates of very fancy hotels that you think you cannot afford. We stayed at the Ritz Carlton for $119 a night, people! That's cheaper than most of the crappy hotels NOT on the beach. It was five-star service at a two-star price. I would have been content to stay anywhere, but the Husband's tolerance level runs a wee bit higher. We hit the city of Naples off-season, and had the beach and hotel wait staff to ourselves. It was heaven.

[I'm also slightly afraid that my children are ruined for life. You can't stay at the Ritz and then ever stay anywhere else without being terribly disappointed.]

3. Do not be phased by emergencies that come up. During our five-day stay, we had one emergency room visit, one urgent situation requiring help from a physician back home, one child pass out due to heat stroke on a hotel boardwalk, and a supposedly waterproof mitt failed - leaving one child's cast soaking wet and full of sand.

For most people, these events would absolutely ruin the trip. For us, it was pretty much normal fare for a vacation.

Sadly.

But a few doses of antibiotics quickly took care of the ear infection that sent us to the ER. Some ice, water, and juice took care of the heat stroke. A late night conversation with our physician back home solved an otherwise nightmare situation. The soggy, smelly cast was removed when we got home and replaced with a removable brace. We took it all in stride, and figured it wasn't worth getting upset about.

Slightly annoyed maybe. But not upset. We were back on the beach and in good form - hardly the worse for wear.

4. Give yourself permission to put down the camera and watch your babies play with your own two eyes. Pictures are treasures that can help preserve the memory, but it is also important to be a part of making the memory yourself. So many times I miss things because I am busy photographing them instead of doing them. This trip, I did not make that mistake, and I have no regrets for the small number of pictures I took.

Instead, I made sandcastles with Hannah and hunted for seashells. I dove through waves with McKay and Chase. I raced the Husband (and lost) on a kayak in the middle of the ocean, laughing as the salty water shot up around us.

And not once did I feel anything lacking.

The trip was heaven and I'd do it again. And again. And again.

How's tomorrow, in fact?

We've come a long way, baby

They wandered up and down the aisles of the large gift shop, their eyes roving happily over the shelves around them. Their salty, red cheeks beamed with smiles as they found things that struck their fancy.

The middle boy had already decided on his souvenir. Decided before he even stepped foot outside the airport doors when he saw a large, taxidermied crocodile head. A quick check of the white price tag on the bottom confirmed that it was within his grasp. A wide grin spread over his face, revealing the lone dimple that I love.

As we towed our suitcases and headed for the door, I knew that the return trip through the airport on our way home would be forefront in his mind for the next five days.

I shadowed the other two through the hotel gift shop, always nervously mindful of breakables in little hands. The woman at the cash register made friendly chit-chat as she kept a sharp eye on her wares, as well. Eager to get back and shower the sand and salt from my body, I made helpful suggestions. Pointed out things that I knew they would love.

Each in their turn, they smiled, inspected, and then politely rejected each item I offered. They did not reach out with grabby hands for cheap, plastic toys. There was no whining and pleading for everything in sight. No rough examinations of delicate glass pieces.

They simply shopped, content.

Finally, the perfect mementos were selected and we approached the cash register to pay. The baby girl had (of course) chosen yet another stuffed animal to add to her already too-vast collection, and a pretty notebook depicting the very beach scene we were loathe to leave in the morning.

The oldest boy took a longer time deciding and chose a large starfish and a conch shell - one big enough that we could take the ocean home with us. He hesitantly lifted a third item up, seeking my approval and pleading with his eyes. When I glanced down and saw the title of the book, I knew I would buy it for him - no matter the cost.

My motherly pride practically spilling out of my heart at the decorum and class displayed by my children in a store full of toys and breakables, I could barely see through the tears to sign for the purchase.

The saleswoman had noticed it all, too. She praised me for having such polite, thoughtful children. She complimented their restraint and good manners - remarking that she had not ever seen such calm and unspoiled children in her store in the 10 years she had managed it.

As we walked out, purchases in hand, I looked at the three little heads - eagerly bent over each others bags examining the spoils - and I had to agree with her.

I think they are pretty freaking fantastic myself.

Rockin' the 'Hawks

The last week of school in the Casa de Stie signals more than just the beginning of summer. It has come to mark what I have finally accepted as an inevitable tradition, four years running now.

It began three years ago as a test of my marital patience, which you can read about here. This severe trial of my patience was revisited for the next two years, which you can see evidence of here and here, if you're so inclined.

This year, I took matters into my own hands (after listening to the begging, pleading, and sheer desperation from the boys, of course) and took them in for the deed myself.

And without further ado, I bring you this year's Mohawks:

We are pleased, but slightly shocked, that McKay decided to participate this year, potential middle school harassment notwithstanding. Every year, he's talked a tough game, but has always chickened out in the barber's chair at the first sound of the clippers roaring to life.

This year, he ponied up and just went for it. I think the Hawk goes nicely with his broken finger - makes him look like he maybe did get into a fight or suffer a wicked skateboard injury (instead of the unsightly fall during P.E. that really caused it.)

Chase, as ever, makes the Mohawk seem natural and right at home on his head. His hair was shorter this year due to the flaky chick at Super Cuts who was unable to follow the simplest of directions -- which just means we can't spike it up quite as high.

[He kind of reminds me of Puck from Glee. Which I secretly think is pretty cool.]

So here's to keeping traditions, the start of summer, and sun, glorious, sun.

Ahh, summer. Nice to see you, old girl. You've been sorely missed.

And the mystery location is...

Naples, Florida, baby.

And it's been heaven in spite of the following:

--1 trip to the ER for an ear infection.
--1 frantic call to a physician back home and a begging for antibiotics.
--1 case of heat stroke tended to by the fine EMTs of the Ritz Carlton.
--5 sunburns in spite of 50 spf.
--Countless dollars of the Husband's money spent.

I am heartbroken to leave tomorrow.

(P.S. Jen guessed correctly first! Shoot me an email with your address and a little surprise is headed your way!)

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

One more reason to keep the Husband

Dear internet,

Wish you were here.

Love,

Stie

P.S. If you can correctly guess where "here" is, you will win a prize. Happy speculating!

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]