Golfing takes concentration. Ahem. Patience.

Just like the winter brought extreme snow, the summer has proven a competitor with its extreme heat. Since Joe works at a Golf course, we thought it would be fun to take them out for their first round of 18...at Putt-Putt. The picture was perfect.

We each picked out a club, and carefully selected four choice ball colors. The first few holes of play didn't go that bad. Joe helped the kids with their stance, and attempted to relay the concept of the game. Get the ball in the hole.
However, something changed moving into Hole 4 or 5, proving the game of golf to be a bit more challenging than I remembered. By challenging, I am not refering to the course and par. But rather, the game of putt-putt with a two and a four year old. I know, I know...his shirt. Guilty.

There was a waterfall.

And a fountain.

And a two year old with a metal golf club. FORE!!!

Perhaps next time, we will take them to the water park.

Heat Defeat

The Eastern seaboard heated up this past week, with outdoor temperatures soaring near the century mark. While this kind of summer weather might be normal for my native Texas, it certainly isn't what we expected when we planned a beach trip to Ocean City, MD...in mid-July.

Defeated by the heat, we ditched our plans to fight for a spot on the beach and instead chose to make our summer memories at the Ocean Pines Community pool instead. What memories we made!

Conor.

You joined us in the BIG pool for the first time, and we quickly learned that you cannot be left alone near the water. You did a cannonball (no lie) in the lap lane. Unassisted. Thankfully, your floaties slowed you down, and I was able to swim to you fast enough to catch you underwater. You are fearless. Wild. You laughed. And, just like you had done with the ocean waves last year, you were a quick study to the mushroom in the toddler pool. You faced it head on, setting the stage for the other toddlers in the pool. Your ENT doctor is not going to be happy with me.

Kate.

Your favorite part of going to the pool was wearing your swimsuit. All of them. Thanks to some helpful swim lessons, you proudly showed us how you could float on your back, jump in from the side of the pool by yourself, and get your face wet. We must have heard the words, "Watch me!" a hundred times. And, we did. We are indeed proud of your accomplishments.

I couldn't resist.

If determination could catch fish

We would be eating fish tonight!

Or perhaps, this is his look of confusion?

They have a name for people like me

I am a Marketer's Dream. Yesterday was our first day of summer vacation at the beach, and not surprisingly, we found ourselves amidst the other beach goers in the aisles of Wal-Mart loading up on what the kids deemed "necessary". Every year, they are attracted to more and more, and every year I cave to desires for water guns, beach balls, and sand molds. But this year, I wasn't prepared for the marketing that was Toy Story.


It was everywhere. On plates, on food, on sunglasses, on pull ups. Everywhere. Quickly, the "necessities" were announced and collected as follows:

• Toy Story Mac N Cheese $1.00
  
• 2 Pac Goggles $1.50


• Toy Story Cereal $2.68


• Toy Story Flip flops (for him) $7.00


• Talking Buzz Lightyear $14.86


• Beach Barbie $5.93


• Boat with Toys $5.00


• Fishing Line $7.36

So, even though we spent more than we had gone in for, the look on their faces when we got back to GrandMoms house were worth it.



They call me..."sucker."

Finding Inspiration

I have always been a runner. I would chase boys in Elementary school, loved running the mile in middle school, and continued running at the gym or practice fields through college. In San Diego, I found the pier, and on the East Coast, the burbs. As strange as it sounds, running has always made me feel good. Relaxed.


My college dance Director used to say, "Beauty is only God given until you are 25. Then, you have to work at it." I thought of that woman yesterday when I put on a pair of my favorite lounge shorts...and they were snug. Ahem, lounge shorts aren't supposed to be snug. So, I looked to my pool of facebook friends for comfort, only to find updates from friends leaving for their morning jog, signing up for 5Ks, and participating in marathons. Where are you when I need you my breakfast burrito eating friends?


So, last night, I decided to squeeze on my sports bra, dust off my sneakers, and head out. Oh. My. Word. I must have been enjoying the double stuff for way too long because I felt parts of me move that shouldn't. Let's just say it was more than my boobs that needed support, dear friends.


Still, I trucked on. I tried to find inspiration in the evening lightening bugs, but even they seemed to be mocking me. Flying around with such ease and delicacy. Grrr. If that wasn't enough to get me going, a bunny ran out from under the bushes and raced by as if playing an evil game of tortoise and the hare. Damn it if that didn't happen twice!


But, I did it. I ran until my chest burned and my side ached. I even think my eyebrows were sweating. I would have taken a picture to prove my victory, but this entry is not supposed to be scary.


This morning, I woke up to a few snaps in unexpecting places and found myself bracing against the stair rail...with two hands...when going up...and down. It definitely doesn't feel as "good and relaxing" today as I remember. But, we all know how the tortoise and the hare story ends, and I will be damned if those little bunnies get the best of me. Crack. Ouch. Snap. Doh.


Carry on.

If at first you fail, try try again

A few weeks back, I wrote about how I screwed up the kids swim lessons. I dressed them and got them all excited only to find I had gotten the time wrong and missed their first lesson. I felt HORRIBLE.

But, today, I write to redeem myself. We went back.

We got wet.

We conquered.

It was awesome!

Loss for words

Me: Our son has Ezcema. It looks worse than it is. Little things can cause a flare...stress, climate change, an exposure to his allergies.

Another: Allergies?

Me: Yep. Allergies.

Another: What is he allergic to?

Me: Egg whites, peanuts, and tree pollen, to name a few.

Another: Poor thing. I couldn't imagine.

Me: It's not that bad. It could be so much worse (polite smile).

This is usually how the conversation goes at the doctor's office...the swimming pool...his sister's dance class...or any other setting where parents and children see his skin look like this. I can't say I blame them for staring, nor do I mean any harm with this blog post. Truth is, I would look on with concern too. I felt the same sympathy for our son when we learned of his condition...and again with each new allergy discovery.

And when we learned of his speech delay, again, I had more sympathetic thoughts. Poor kid.

Other children his age are speaking many words and are putting them together, where he is still practicing his sounds...Mooo....Oooohhh!

"Good job, Bubba!" I say, and then get lost in the thought of how handsome he is. I smile.

Tonight, following his bath, he went over to his dresser and grabbed the red and white tube of cream from the basket, handing it to me. "Cortisone. It's one of those days, huh, bud?" I asked. He returned my smile.

Despite his lack of language, he communicates better than most adults I know, and is always straight to the point. God. love. him.

Every day I learn something new from our children. And recently, our little Con man has been teaching me that no matter what the circumstance, you just need to find a reason to smile.

Really smile.

Note to your future self, Bud: This is really how you smiled at age 2.