Mackinac Island

On the first really nice day of summer for the past three years, we've gone to Mackinac Island. It's only a 25 minute drive from our house, and following a hotel remodel Trevor did a few years ago we've had a knee-high stack of ferry tickets, so it's quick and cheap for us to go.

The weather was forecasted to hover in the high 60s all day, so after Marta's first nap we went. Now, Trevor and I usually get pretty impatient at "kid stuff," even when we have good intentions and are prepared for the long waits, the sugar tantrums, the cramped muscles from a) crouching under playlands in case a child falls while climbing something that's clearly for 12-year-olds, and b) pushing a stroller that's holding the diaper bag and carrying or holding the hand of the child who's supposed to be in the stroller.

But on the island we rarely lose our cool. I don't know if it's the familiarity, the slow pace or the open space to do... whatever. But every time we go, we have fun nearly the whole day.

We did today, too. We sat on the front the boat for the ride over and got fully tangled, winded and fresh-aired, invigorated for our adventure. We immediately got "smudge" at Murray's Hotel (peanut butter tiger for Trevor and mint chocolate for the rest of us), danced in front of the mirrored case like the kids usually do, pottied and changed dipes in their clean bathrooms, ate the smudge under lilac trees in the park, played on the playground, rented bikes, went through the butterfly house, biked to a kid-friendly rock pile on the water and tossed stones, bought fruit and crackers at Doud's, ate the snacks in the park, went to another playground, got ice cream at Kilwin's, ate dinner at the Pink Pony and came back home with sleeping children, covered in sunscreen, ice cream and general stickiness. Really. Great. Day. Truly.

Yes, the kids went nuts at the end after all the sweets and lack of naps, and we went nuts with them, which we expected and dealt with and la da da, but in the end it was just what we'd hoped for.

I love this tradition. We don't have much in the way of things to do with kids year-round in this neck of the woods, but Mackinac is right around the corner, has animal delights galore, biking, treats, open spaces, parks everywhere and just lots of stuff to do. We all get sticky and hot, and we get chilly as the air cools in the evening, we bring sweatshirts and pjs and hand sanitizer by the bucket.

Trevor and I are exhausted. But it was a good day.

In Which I Use My Blog For Personal And Major-Decision-Making Sorting Out In The Absence Of My Husband

For weeks and weeks and months and days and hours we've been considering adding another baby to our brood. Right up front, this post is NOT that I'm pregnant. I'm not. But we thought I could be this month, and we were pleased with the possibility. And we determined that if we were ever going to get out of babyland and into "The kids are transportable and flexible and let's start having fun as a family"land, we'd need to make a decision by August about just what and how we'd go about it all.

And then we went away for the night, got a little tipsy, and decided we should really have FOUR children anyway, nevermind this "one more" business.

And then Trevor left for Chicago, and today was my last day of single parenthood, and it was a doozy. I mean, we had a really great day, the weather was sparkling, Berit had her first day of summer camp and all was well. It was a doozy of a thinking day. For example:

Out for a walk, Marta started in the stroller and Berit was walking Mosey. Then, Berit was done walking Mosey and Marta wanted out of the stroller. Berit wanted to run but Marta needed to stop at every single tent worm on the road, and we have a ton of them right now so we were pretty much going as fast as they were, except Berit was trying to run home and was mad at me so she wasn't listening when I was telling her that at any moment a car could come and she could get hurt really, really badly and that she needed to listen to me, and I was also pushing the stroller and walking Mosey. And I thought, "Now how would I fit a new baby into all of this?" 

This sort of thing happened all day; benign moments where both girls' personalities hit full steam and I realized that I could barely vacuum the house without Berit screaming that she's terrified of everything loud and that she needed to have me listen to a zillion songs first, and without Marta twirling until she literally could not stand up without the momentum of her twirling keeping her in a delicate balance of uprightedness and then smashing her head on every sharp-cornered surface in the room. And Berit wasn't sympathetic for a second, and how, then, would she be helpful with a new baby? 

And while I was vacuuming, I was pondering all of the insecurities I have about my current children. Such as:

Do I give Berit enough undivided attention? Because no matter how long I listen to her singing, no matter how focused I am on her stories, no matter how often I take her picture or videotape her dancing or let her have one more sentence of chatter OKAY ONE MORE SENTENCE AND THAT'S IT, it's never enough for her. She always has to bring up all the other people who do these things for her, and who lay with her while she falls asleep or scratch her back as long as she wants.

And do we do enough to stimulate Marta? The first thing she says to me each morning is, "Go bye-bye? Outside?" And she continues to say this all day long. And no, we don't get to go bye-bye all day long, because it's damn cold here lately and her sister is a hermit who doesn't want anything to do with playing outside most of the time. Yet Marta takes one step into the living room and screams "NOOOOO!" at some point every day, and I sympathize because frankly, I get sick of seeing the same room all day, too. 

And then I started thinking about adding a baby to the family, and I realized that the above qualms would only be sharpened, SIGNIFICANTLY, if we were stuck inside again, with Mommy's hands and attention wrapped around the new person in the house. 

Yet I know I don't want it to be just the two of them. I love having two other siblings, and I would love having three more, too. 

And I know that all of you grandmothers and friends of my mom will say things like, "When it happens you just make it work," and "It's worth it in the long run," and I know all of this. I'm just nervous about it, and I wonder if I'm a good enough mom to in fact make it work, and if I'm organized enough or patient enough or if I can ever, ever give my kids enough time and energy and love.

So I don't know. I don't think I'll ever know, until something happens that makes my decision for me. 

Further Evidence That Marta Can Secretly Read

I usually go to the "meat market" when the sitter comes or when I've just got Berit with me, because there are no carts and lots of onions and potatoes right at toddler level, ripe for the picking.

I put "meat market" in quotes because the sign out front says meat MARKET, just like that, with thick lowercase letters on top and thin uppercase letters on the bottom.

And when I pulled up to the market today with just Marta along for the shopping trip, I found a parking spot right in front of the sign. And Marta said, "Meat, Mommy. Meat."

I hadn't told her where we were going, and I definitely didn't say the word "meat," since we were only there to pick up our farm share of vegetables, and therefore I think she can read. 

A Fantastic Not-Such-A-Surprise Party

On Friday Trevor's mom came over to stay with the girls while he and I went to Grand Rapids for the night. It was our first time leaving Marta overnight, but we weren't perplexed by it. (Trevor is never perplexed by this. I guess I should note that I wasn't worried, and he was his usual never-worried-about-anything self.) She's 18 months old in a week-and-a-half and is fully weaned and sleeping through the night. She was fine, Berit was fine, everyone was fine.

We went downstate to celebrate my mom's 50th birthday with a surprise party at The Crush nightclub in The B.O.B. Sixty of her friends came and we had an amazing time, even though she knew about the party more than a little bit. We can never, ever surprise her. 

During the party the guests got together in groups and performed skits for her and including her, as we've all spent the past 20 year performing in skits, shows and festivals that she's hosted. Who knew that her current position at Spectrum Health would have the majority of Greenville's finest doing the can-can, dressing up as politicians or pretending to be on game shows? Well, we dished it back and she loved it. 

Afterward, most of the guests stayed on when The Crush was opened to the public, then a smaller group kept the party going upstairs on the dance floor. At the end of the night/morning, when it had been Time To Go for hours already, I looked at the remaining people and was pleased to note that it was just our family -- Mom, Den, Andrea, Nick, Trevor and me. (Dave had to leave once the bar was open to the public since he's not yet 21.) Without meaning to, we had outlasted everyone else. I thought it was appropriate.

Trev and I were staying at the J.W. Marriott and walked there afterwards with my parents, for whom we had gotten a room as part of the birthday fun (four floors away, thank you very much). But we decided we were starving (a great surprise for me, as Trevor is never hungry and I always am) and went across the street to grab a bite at a diner that was obviously closing but welcoming nonetheless. When all was said and done, we had slept in until 10:30 a.m. -- the latest I've slept in FOUR YEARS (though we still only got a handful of hours' sleep, after all the revelry of the night before) -- and walked to breakfast where we ate a cinnamon roll the size of the plate it was on (which was big) and made plans to open a bakery/brewery once the kids go to school. Why not?

It was a great overnight getaway and much-needed by both of us. Pictures of my shoes to come.

P.S.: Regarding my previous post about the drive down, Trevor again surprised me by pulling out a book of his own and wanting to read it while I drove, giving me the chance to listen to my audiobook. I know some of you told me to bond with him the whole time, but the drive was three hours long and we did end up in a gratifying discussion about some of the stuff he was reading. So it was great.

Major Dilemmas

Situation: Playdate scheduled for today, that's already been rescheduled and discussed over e-mail way too much, which includes a picnic lunch, and which has already been revealed to the preschooler in our midst; also which is with newer friends and is a first playdate. 

At exactly the same time, Marta will need a morning nap, since she woke far too early today and is walking around trying to be mean because she's tired. 

Situation: Going downstate with Trevor with NO KIDS for an OVERNIGHT and the drive is three hours long. Trevor wants to chat and bond, I want to listen to my audiobook. Should I tell him he can sleep and I'll drive? Or should I take a hint from myself and sleep while he drives?

Lisa Chocolate Spaghetti Cupcakes Sweet Potatoes Chocolate Chip Cookies Nutella ... Oh Hell, Everything

When we were little, my sister and I gave our family dog, Mindy, middle names based on her random favorite foods. Her full name was, then: Mindy Blueberries Applesauce Spaghetti Robb-Hayes (we had two last names for awhile; little wonder we gave our animals multiple middle names without a thought). 

While watching Marta smush berries into her hair and thinking to myself that now she really was "strawberry blonde," I started to subconsciously give my family their food middle names. So:

Berit Apple Strawberry Pancake Donut Hayes D....

Marta Toast Raspberry Yogurt Oatmeal Macaroni Anne D...

And to bring it all back home, Mosey Chicken Bacon Pizza Scrambled Eggs Hot Dog Henry D...

(In case you're wondering, Hot Dog Henry is his middle name, not something he likes to eat.)

I Have Become One With The Chaos

I'm not sure when it happened -- perhaps when Marta began demonstrating that she was in no way like her order-minded older sister and liked to literally drag her arm along shelves to wipe them clear of all toys, books, clothes, whatever -- but something has changed a little in my necessity to have all of the kids' toys stowed with their proper pieces comfortably attached at the end of each day.

Rousing post, right? 

But seriously, I used to be really picky about this. I mean, we bought (or more likely, had been given) these toys and I wanted to take perfect care of them. I wiped them down constantly, washed many in kid-safe cleansers at night, and tucked all the pieces in the right places. In fact, I often didn't have the need to pick up a game piece on one side of the room (or, God forbid, on another floor of the house) and haul it over to the OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM to put it away, because Berit never threw, mingled or messed her toys like that. Not bragging, she just didn't. 

Enter Marta. Last night she was taking any number of dolls from dollhouses, Happy Meals, those random sets of girls' toys with the ice cream trucks and couches and etc. etc.,  and pieces from Candyland, Memory, the doctor's kit and various fairy wands for rides in the dumptruck and dollhouse minivan. You can imagine the horror when I tried to clean it up -- where did it all belong? I was going to have to THINK about it! 

Instead, I just dumped it all into a bucket (with Berit's name, not even Marta's on it) and called it good. 

Is this progress? Is this a garage sale in the making, what with all the missing pieces?