Beach day...

As school drew to a close I put a few activities down on the calender as a way to plan for the upcoming emptiness of summer. All month Lorien and Wyatt had their eyes glued to June 28th's date where our first beach trip of the season was scheduled. In typical fashion I was not ready for the beach so we pushed back until Thursday when we could go with a few friends.

I love a day at the beach! Even though planning a beach day feels like comparable work to that of planning a suspension bridge it is more than worth it. The beauty of the day was held in the hands of the other fabulous Mom's who hauled their kids out to the beach too. We all sat together mutually mooching snacks, sand toys and blanket space off each other. Our kids broke off into random groupings building castles, splashing in the water and collecting beach treasures. It was fun to watch my kids make connections with children they don't get to see very often but who share their great imagination and enjoyment of adventure.

The waves were a little intense. I usually prefer this beach location because the waves and undertow are less severe than beaches closer to home. The waves on Thursday might have been an exception. Lorien always loves being in the water and Wyatt usually keeps a safe distance. Some how, between the last day at the beach in 2008 to the first of 2009 Wyatt conquered his water worry. Together Lorien and Wyatt spent most of the day in the waves with little interruptions for food and to warm their bodies on the sand.

Clare stayed well away from the water. She built sand castles with her friends and a beach garden (complete with seaweed growing out of the sandy soil).

Some of the kids asked to be buried in the sand. I think it is funny to turn children (boys and girls alike) into mermaids when they lay down in the sand and ask to be covered up. Wyatt was too quick...before I could start making his mermaid--er--merman tail he insisted that I make him a rock. Wyatt's friend, Dane, also wanted to sport the "rock" look, effectively ending my fun. Clare, on the other hand, was really happy to be a mermaid, reminding me to include "boobies".

We soaked up the beach until the sun set behind the cliff that shelters the sand and we were too cold to stay without a fire. It was an awesome day and I am ready for many more!

Our Latest Photographer...

All my kids like to take pictures with our camera. I am really thankful to be living in the digital age because all my kids like to take pictures of the exact same thing...the ground. Every once in a while they will hold the camera up and snap a priceless shot of a window, the wall or the dirty laundry (my favorite!). Recently, I started letting Clare take some pictures. Below you'll find a small sample of her work. She holds the same passion for pictures of the ground--really, she took about 50 pictures of the ground--I couldn't keep them all. She also really likes to take pictures of herself and her family. She figured out how to set the camera up on a small table, press the button and stand back fast enough to get herself in the shot. Funny!

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Always a Busy Weekend...

Thirty-three years and one day ago, William James Anderson was born. He was born on Father's Day, and as a reward...Clay and Judy Anderson (his parents) not only got to take home their son...they also got to take home a roast...(brace yourselves for this one)...a roast in the exact weight of their new born baby boy. I am not even joking around here, for dinner William's parents tossed a roast weighing 8 lbs 8 oz. into a 375 degree oven--I wonder if the roast was also 21 1/2 inches long? Good thing Judy didn't go by feel, if she ate the whole roast herself she would have been right back where she started before labor and delivery! I guess that is the way they do things in Montana...for every child born...a cow must die.

I kid, I kid, except for the whole "getting a roast the exact size of your new baby" thing. I could not make that stuff up. Montana is a great state.

A heap of years later, I married William James Anderson (I am such a lucky girl!) and every year the 3rd weekend in June is a busy, busy weekend. One year (2006 to be exact) Will turned 30 on Friday, took Lorien out to the Father-Daughter camp-out, graduated with his MBA on Saturday and celebrated Father's Day on Sunday. See what I mean? Busy, busy, busy!

Some ladies in my circle of friends throw their husband's super fun birthday parties with friends and cake and presents and grilled meat and strippers. (Wait--just kidding--I wanted to see if you were paying attention, no strippers.) My husband is just lucky if I keep a paper bag handy so I can make it through the panic attacks smoothly. He deserves a big party. I wish I could come up with a better adjective but I cannot--he is AWESOME! A wonderful Father, an adoring husband and an all around cool guy. I love him. Some day I will throw him a super fun party. This year he'll have to settle for a little party with little kids--and party hats.

Happy Birthday/Father's Day Babe!

Ding-Dong the Witch is Dead!

I'll try to compose myself and not sound tooooo excited in this post--but honestly, I am busting open with happiness. Wrestling season is officially O-V-E-R!!! I think wrestling is great, really...I do.

Wrestling has been a big part of our family for the last several months and has taken up a lot of our time. The kids have had a great time going to practice with Daddy and Uncle David and Wyatt has been a whirlwind of success at all of the tournaments. In addition to eight medals Wyatt was rewarded with several pounds of extra weight to his little frame. (Much to his fathers delight.)

The wrestlers had their end-of-the-season banquet tonight. All the kids received a trophy and all the adults got to breathe a sigh of relief!

Congratulations on another successful wrestling season Will, Lorien and Wyatt. (And congratulations on surviving another wrestling season, Cassie.)

Well said dear friend...

I was reading over a friends blog that started by saying: "I want to blog. I really do. But I am coming up short. I have so much going on and nothing to say." I could not have put it better myself.

I'll try to be better.

Not that I think there are an overwhelming number of people who care about what is going on in my life--I just figure I'd better contribute to wasted web space when possible.

So, let me just start by saying: I really am pregnant. See:

If you do not have a lot of experience in reading ultrasound photos you are just going to have to take my word for it...all those white dots on the black background is a real life kid...trust me. Really it is mostly placenta and that little alien face in the upper left is the baby's face. Seriously, my kid looks exactly like an alien, creepy. I had my first doctor's appointment last week and everything is fine. I even got a prescription for some anti-nausea pills that have been helping to keep my head out of the toilet. My official due date is November 30th but I am planning on November 8th. Lorien was born on November 8th, Wyatt was born on November 8th and I am shooting for consistency here.

What else has been going on? Well, Clare and I got to go on a field trip with Wyatt's preschool to a farm near by. The kids got to eat broccoli, strawberry and lettuce from the garden all while sitting on stumps in a little arbor made from grape vines.

They got to see sheep, goats, pigs, a cow, chickens, roosters and baby chicks.

Apparently, little piggies have terrible eye sight. The pigs don't know that little fingers poking through the fence aren't tasty bits of food. To keep their fingers on their hands and out of the pigges teeth all the kids kept their hands clasped behind their backs.

All the kids loved checking for eggs and seeing the baby chicks.


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Clare couldn't stop talking about all the animals she saw. For days we were entertained with pig, sheep and goat stories. At the end of the tour our farmer-guide told the kids they could ride horses back to the pick-nick area. First the kids had to learn how to say "Giddey-Up!" and "Woahhhh!" to make the horses start and stop. Then they got to mount up on the horses...their very own legs...All the boys turned their imaginary farm horses into race horses.

Fun day.

Accomplishment of accomplishments Wyatt graduated from preschool at the end of May!



The very same evening Wyatt wrestled at the Santa Clara Valley Tournament, the final tournament of the season. The kids had to wrestle at night instead of their usual morning time slot. Wyatt had been up early that morning and had already had a busy day with Preschool graduation and all. Despite all the bumps Wyatt wrestled hard and did a great job. He came in 3rd. He was GREAT!
He had to wrestle the toughest two kids at the tournament for his last two matches. It was almost 10:00 at night and we were all exhausted! Wyatt gave it his all and worked his little 38 pound bum off. We were all so proud of Wyatt. (And I am so glad the wrestling season is over!) Here is a video of one of his matches. WARNING! Before you press play you should turn the volume on your computer down. There is a lot of shouting and cheering at a wrestling tournament. All that noise just bounces around the gymnasium--it is loud.

And finally, I've spent this last weekend home, alone, cleaning, organizing and missing my husband and children. Will--let's just call him what he is--Super Man, took all three kids camping at Mt. Shasta. Super Man has been composing a blog entry of his very own so stay tuned for details of their trip! My weekend has been so great! I've missed Super Man lots and lots and missed my kids (a little less than Super Man). But it has been so nice to have a quiet empty house where I can work.

If there are any husbands/fathers reading this blog I want you to know that more than chocolates, flowers or even jewelry your wives/mother of your children want a weekend away from those children. Really, you should have seen the excitement on my girlfriend's faces when I told them about my weekend. Show your wives how much you love them and take your children away next weekend. You'll be happy you did!

What does this mean?

My three-year-old-perma-princess just said: "Hey Momma, lets be baaad girllls."

How am I suppose to take that?

Whew...

Were you sick and tired of that pregnancy post? I was...

But not much else has been happening in our life lately. I am still sick (in fact, I threw up in a dirty public toilet yesterday), the kids are still 7, 5 and 3 years old and life just keeps on rolling along for our family.

It is hard to believe but at one time in their lives my parents had three kids with a fourth on the way--then five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten children. When I was in Maine last fall my sisters and I found this old family photo. There were only (only--what a silly word to preface the size of my family with!) eight (see?) children at the time. Here we are:

pretty awesome--huh?

It's All About Me!

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Do you know what I am?

In trouble with the law? --No.
Enrolled in classes at the local community college? --No.
In the mood for a milk shake and some fries? --Maybe.
Totally awesome in every way? --Yes, but that is off topic. OK, stop guessing. Really, you’re terrible at this.

I am pregnant—that is what I am. And it stinks. I am not a nice pregnant lady. I am mean and cranky, cross and complaining, ornery and disagreeable even. Believe me when I say: I am not a nice pregnant lady. If you see me coming over the next 7 months grab any women and children with in your reach and run for the hills. Because when pregnant I am continually ready to unleash the worst in myself all over the nearest living creature. (In a pinch, I’ll unhinge on a lamp post or a sink full of dishes.) Check out clerks exchange nervous looks with their baggers when they see my expanding mid section pull into their lane. Perfect strangers offer to take my children into their protective custody when they see the surly looks I manage to radiate at all times. It is not pretty. I do not like being pregnant, not one single bit and I am not afraid to let dear friends or the homeless guy downtown know it at the slightest provocation.

Friends: “How are you?”
Me: “My tummy aches, I have heart burn, I am constipated, I cannot sleep and I have this weird taste in my mouth that no amount of brushing or swishing will free me from! How are you?”

Homeless Stranger: “Spare change for a wounded vet?’
Me: “My tummy aches, I have heart burn, I am constipated, I cannot sleep and I have this weird taste in my mouth that no amount of brushing or swishing will free me from! If I had any spare change I’d buy a gumball in hopes of chewing the taste away!”

See what I mean?

You can well imagine the scene in my bathroom when I saw the positive sign come up on the pregnancy test I had just peed on. Let’s just say I unleashed a highly justified string of expletives that shall not be repeated here. I still cannot believe it—and I’ve known for a while now. In an attempt to shield the innocent from my peevish self I’ve been keeping the whole “I’m pregnant” thing under wraps. My husband, however, cannot wait to tell the world—and we’ve told the kids so keeping the secret is a little pointless now.

Try not to worry your pretty little heads; I think I found the Silver Lining.

I have found one joy in this pregnancy, one ray of sunshine, one bit of happiness (so far). I call my little bit of light: The Excuse. I find that saying to myself, my husband and my children “I am pregnant.” opens up all kinds of bad behavior doors for me. For example, just this afternoon, while at the grocery store grabbing a few essentials I got a whiff of the fresh baked bread. You know the nutrition-less, white, fluffy stuff every grocery store bakery makes in large quantities and sells with garlic butter. Yes, that heavenly manna. Of course, I grabbed a loaf and headed home. More over, for my supper, I downed almost the whole loaf with ½ a stick of butter. “I am pregnant.” Three nights ago at 9:55 pm I decided the only food that would not make me throw up was some Indian Chicken Korma with Nan and a Coke. “I’m pregnant.” My husband was on the phone to all the Indian restaurants with in a 10 mile radius to find some. Every morning, after I get the kids fed, dressed and off to school instead of working out, doing the dishes or even taking a shower—I go back to bed. “I’m pregnant.”

Let me finish this post up. Really, if it were up to me I’d keep this whole thing a secret for another 6 or 7 months. Unfortunately, “The Excuse” is going to make my physical self expose the secret long before my vocal self will. I can feel my butt growing as I sit and type. So, the next time we meet—hold on to your hat because I am going to have A LOT of complaining to do and you are going to be surprised at how round and full of carbohydrates I look.

Try not to laugh out loud.

Not feeling my usual self...

A big apology to the three people who read this blog and who have stopped reading because of the lack of new posts. We have not been feeling well lately. Right about the end of February I was prematurely patting myself on the back with motherly pride in the fact that I had ushered three children and a husband through flu season successfully. Did you catch the "prematurely" part of that sentence? Flu season is a spiteful and mean creature who does not like to be denied her victims. So for the last several weeks we've been sporting the pukes, coughs and runny noses like they are going out of style. Every time I turn around another kid is clutching his/her stomach with a piteous "Mom, I don't feel very good." thrown in for good measure.

I wont say we are out of the woods yet--surely one of my children will be up tonight with something sickly--but it has been about 8 days since I had to hold someones hair out of their face while they hurled into a bucket. I'll take my happiness where I can get it.

To quickly catch you up on our little happenings:

The girls had a "Chic Fashion Show and Dance Party" in the living room and our back patio. Lorien's fashion poses are a hoot! Clare trying to mimic Lorien is funny enough to make me snort when I laugh.

Will and Wyatt continue to wrestle at tournaments in the area...and they continue to be awesome. At the last tournament Will was the oldest wrestler and Wyatt was the youngest. They both took first place in their weight classes/age groups.

We noticed the Easter holiday. The kids got the usual baskets of candy and we had our nearest relations over for dinner and a plastic egg hunt. The girls wore matching dresses to church and we enjoyed a quiet Family Home Evening discussing the real meaning of Easter.

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And some where between the snot and puke Will and I passed our 9 year anniversary.

Hey Babe,

I love you--heaps and piles and loads. Thanks for loving me even though I buy stuff I don't want or need from door-to-door salesmen. You are the greatest guy I know and I am so happy we are in this together.

I love you.