Westward, HO!

"Where did you go," you might be wondering. A lot of nowhere, a lot of busy beeing around the house. But not all nowhere. A few very big somewheres starting with California.

We have lovely friends in California, stationed there through the Air Force. When they began making plans to see each other, they invited us along. With the Ellis clan, we boasted 9 children {the oldest was 5 yo} and 6 excited, tired parents for a week of hiking, playing, biking, and touristing:

Wandering down the Monterrey Wharf in borrowed clothes

Beautiful girls searching for sea lions and otters

Sunset on the bay

What?! An Ellis family photo - only because we were reminded to take one

The redwoods at Big Sur

The best part - these wonderful ladies

Bubba on the beach

 

I might have taught this warrior girl to shoot at seagulls. She shot one!

Expectant faces watch for the wave to fall at the Monterrey Aquarium

Ecstasy with every wave

Our trip to California was one of the most rejuvenating experiences of my life, right up there with our honeymoon. We got away from daily pressures without any true agenda other than to spend time with people we love.

The trip out was a comedy of airline errors to be certain: cancelled flights, long delays with restless children in overcrowded airports with no gluten free food, lost bags, stomach virus (appropriately discharged on the airline kiosk). 24 hours round trip. If so many people didn’t experience the same thing every time they flew, I might think we were special. I haven’t sworn off flying, but I’m not jumping to get on another plane either.

But once we were there, seeing Emily and Keith and Mollie and Jeff and all their sweet little ones that I love like nieces and nephews... What a blessing! Even now, I can close my eyes and find myself standing in that open white kitchen with the windows and door flung wide to allow the cool breeze to flow through the house, taking my tension and frustrations with it. The yard with its rusty sand and spiny plants, all harboring their precious water against the long dry season. The living room couch covered with bare legs and open picture books and plastic dinosaurs.

The trip to Big Sur, driving along the sharp coast with breakers spraying above the rocks, the wind whipping hair and clothes. Red woods towering impossibly tall overhead, imposing and sheltering. Kids circling around us like a pack, excited, whining, bounding, all looking for lunch and bugs and the one perfect stick or rock or pinecone. All crouched down at the water’s edge, staring into the stream life below them. All filing over the fallen log bridge, holding momma’s hand and shuffling tiny tennis shoes to jump proudly at the end and stand tall while momma heads back across to help the next one in line. 

The hike with my besties. Getting to be free, strong mommas, skipping up the trail without the added weight of a child or two wrapped on and dragging against our hands. That conversation started the long, tearful talk over delicious food two nights later. The talk where we bore our souls and our fears and our frustrations with two of the only people alive that could hear all those deep ugly things we hate admitting to ourselves. They are those friends. Who know how angry I get, how messy my house is, how much I love and struggle with my husband, my God, my position, my life. And they are those friends who don’t let me wallow in the struggle, but pray for me, encourage me, and point me back to the will of God. Any plane ticket, any long day of flying, any hauling sick children across country was worth that conversation.

Afton thanks God for our trip to California and the plane ride and all of our friends every day still. What a blessing!

The Semi-annual Ellis Backyard Mud Run

Inhales sharply, "Ooooh, I look just like Christopher Robin!" Indicates her overall shorts and rainboots. "Now I can pash in puddles!" And she's gone, out the door and into glorious mud...

The last hour feels like a special gift from God. Not just in the category of "every breath is a gift," but a sweet blessing to a stressed family.

A sweet, filthy, muddy blessing.

The semi-annual Ellis Backyard Mud Run is in full swing...

Our backyard floods every spring creating a small system of lakes. If our grass is going to suffocate anyway, we might as well enjoy it.

 She tells me, "It floats!" No sooner are the words out of her mouth then...

Here's what really kills me - the first mud run, they looked like this...

Where is the boy? He should be enjoying the muddy fun as a rite of boyhood. Unfortunately, Carrick is recovering from a double ear infection. He will just have to wait for another steady rain to join the fun.

Winter Wonderland

The last two weeks have been snow and vacation. Finally built that snowman Gwenny's been planning for months. Traveled to Knoxville for Christmas in February. We've been so busy playing that I haven't collected my thoughts in weeks. But the house is coming together. Most of the stuff is put away. Time to move back to organized, creative school, thought out meals, daily workouts, and chronology.

At my parent's home, my sisters and I sorted through decades of photos. My grandmothers back in the day - so beautiful in their pearls and victory rolls. Our childhood - the field trips and the wind suits and the hours and hours on horseback. Memory after memory sparked and relived around the kitchen table, three sisters awww-ing and hugging and beaming. My family is blessed with a beautiful history together. A cause for celebration.

To keep the party going, let me share some of the crew's favorite moments this winter.

From the Farm:

Standing by the banks of the much swollen creek

My beautiful niece

Playing Pooh Sticks

In honor of the flaky forecast, our last snow day:

First taste of snow cream - shocking and amazing

She finally built her snowman! That hair was all her idea.

This winter is full of good memories for our kids to reflect on later.

That being said, bring on the warm weather!

Two Swans

This morning marked a new era for us... the first ballet lesson. My girls are officially old enough for dance class. Oh my goodness.

The class was a joy to watch. And even better to hear the retelling from the girls on the way home. They had such different experiences, neither of which exactly matched my outside view of the class.

I saw 12 tiny girls flitting around the studio, vaguely following Miss Emma's instructions. Adorable, uncoordinated movements. Like a puppy tripping on its ears {mine was the only child to fall over practicing first position}.

This morning might have been the highlight of Gwennan's 4 years on earth. Everyone in their black leotards and pink tights standing on their green X's, moving together. She swayed her arms dreamily side to side. She exulted in her toes as she pointed and flexed, pointed and flexed. The order and grace that Gwennan demands from life.

From that description, you might be wondering why we signed up Afton at all. Because she loved it too. In a completely different, free spirited fashion. Her demi plie resembled a weight lifting squat. When it came time to skip around the room, she must have imagined a series of puddles to jump in. Even during stretches, Afton took breaks to shake her wiggles out. Her ballet was all her own, and she hasn't stopped talking about it.

When we arrived home, they insisted on practicing. The first ballet lesson recital for an audience of Daddy is all scheduled. They even identified which pieces of furniture could substitute for the big mirror and the bar.

Then they wanted to watch ballet, so I pulled up the final scene from my favorite, Swan Lake. Gwennan is going to be the princess swan {Of course}. But she won't fly away and leave the prince. That's craziness. Everything is so clear cut in her 4 year old world.

Afton rebuts that she wants to marry the monster. Mommy, can you please ask Daddy if I can marry the monster tonight? She preferred his crunk style movements to the flitty prince.

And I suppose that's how you have ballerinas to play the white swan and the black swan.

Brother also thought ballet was wonderful. A whole room full of sentimental moms ooh-ing and waving to him. He sat in my lap, chewing on my hand thoughtfully as the women beside me noisily described her plastic surgeries {that was a rough, hopefully unusual, introduction to dance mothers}. Carrick deserves his own update post, so I'll save further comments until then.

Happy dancing everyone!

Happy New Year

After my last post, I gather that no one questioned my absence from the blogosphere. Although you might have wondered if all three children survived 2013. I'm pleased to announce that they did. Maybe even left it better than we found it. 

Truth be told, I didn't abandon writing because I was so busy. I had nothing to say. Life seemed a series of reactions, swinging in the dark. What is there to say about aimlessness?

The holidays, the busyness, the parenting challenges, all distractions from the real problem. I pushed God to a dusty shelf labeled 'things I wish I had time for.'

How did I have time to handcraft Christmas presents or workout or cook or breathe if I had no time for God? I don't have an answer.

After a prolonged spiritual drought (all my fault, not His, mind you), I find myself in major resolution mode.

Driven by self-consciousness over the candy I inhaled last week, I vow to eat nothing but salads and carve out an hour a day to workout. But I've been living on caffeine and refined sugar for a week. My brain wants chocolate while my hand provides a carrot stick. The hardest stretch of any diet change.

At the same time, I've consumed a steady diet of social media. Any free moment, and my hands start itching to check Instagram, putting off prayer or meditation or study. I'm out of practice making Jesus a first thought.

And my everything shows it, even more obvious than my crappy Christmas week binging. How I speak to others, the jokes I make, my general frustration, my posture. My selfishness is a garment, more like an emotional snuggy. Protecting my ability to indulge in further lazy behavior.

That's our family right now. See why I wanted to hide that ugliness? My selfish snuggy wasn't suitable for public viewing.

As it is the season for transformation, we are praying for some of our own. Resolve to put aside distractions and retrain our minds. Yes, to look forward to cauliflower again. But more importantly, to seek his face again.

Ice cream fix

True confession time: I was into the chocolate ice cream before 11:30 today. Yes, 11:30 am. Why would an otherwise healthy person eat chocolate ice cream before lunch? Because we have no vodka in the house. 

It's that sort of morning.

We just returned from our walk around the neighborhood so that Gwennan could deliver her "I'm sorry" card to the babysitter. Brother is bemoaning the time change, by far the most traumatic thing in his life since circumcision. His whole life's schedule has been a wreck since 2 o'clock Sunday morning. When I declined to fix lunch at 10:30, Afton threw a fit involving peeing on our carpeted stairs and using the basil we potted together as a hammer throw.

I earned that ice cream.

The last spoonful hadn't dissolved on my tongue when I glanced out the window to check on my entirely too happy children only to find the little exhibitionists completely naked on top of the fort, well above the privacy fence, playing "go to the beach," the nudist beach apparently. {Anybody else notice that my sentences tend to run on when I'm frustrated? Tim has, I assure you.}

Why even bring this up? Everyone has these days, these "terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day" days. Gwennan, Carrick and Afton would probably tell you that they too deserve ice cream for putting up with their grumpy mother on a 5 day headache streak who insists that the babysitter was right, that daylight savings time is over, and that lunch must wait until closer to noon. Oh, and that you must pretend going to the beach with your clothes on, clearly an impossibility.

I write out this ridiculous day so that on another bad day, yours or mine, we can say, ah yes, we will get through this ludicrous day, might even laugh at it later.

I write it out so that when all you see are cute pictures of my girls playing or catch a gummy smile from my prince charming son or hear me talk about practicing yoga and baking stuff you barely have time to buy, you'll know that this momma is losing her mind plenty.

My momma promises this too shall pass. And I believe her. I even believe the people who tell me I'll miss it. I also think that maybe when my kids are teenagers and still driving me crazy that I might find some courage reading their preschool antics, even the not so cute ones.

Ciao October

Apple week is complete. Golden quarts line shelves.

Halloween is complete. Only one meltdown over costuming.

4 month check up is complete. Brother is long and skinny with a giant noggin. The way an Ellis baby should be.

4(!) year old birthday is complete. Gwenny acted the princess all day, buried in books.

My sister's pregnancy is complete. Baby Margot is anxiosly awaiting the arrival of her Auntie Kate and Uncle Tim.

When I write it out, I see the Fall is all but complete. Just another baby born, Afton's birthday and Thanksgiving to go (all of which should occur within a 3 day window).

With the 70 degree weather and still green trees, part of me believes the calendar is lying. We can't possibly be 4 weeks from Christmas season. But here it is anyway.

While she didn't get an officials milestone this month, Afton has made the biggest growth of all. She's becoming a little girl, no longer a quick toddler running behind Gwennan. Our little girl is becoming the big sister, a role she claims with pride. Sweet Afton.

Our month in the sun

Howdy!

I knew it had been a while since I last typed out my thoughts, but I didn't realize how long. Life is zipping along, stuffed with Fall fun.

Maybe you expected this disappearing act from me since I seem to pull it whenever the weather cools. We start cramming in end of season of beach days and beginning of season hikes. The garden needs attention again. School starts up.

I owe a catch up post. Here's a bit of where we've been...

We left off at the beach, a beautiful day to celebrate 30 years spinning on planet Earth.

And we end at the beach. And spend part of the middle at the beach.

Basically, we made up for the lost month after Brother was born. Now that October is near, the Ellises finally have freckled noses and sun-kissed hair, a couple pounds of sand and several empty cans of sunscreen in the trunk of the van.

The camera has been the chronologist. Snap shot of fun times when a pen is too cumbersome. So many pictures, and I'm not sure I narrowed it down enough. Oh well. I'm sharing them anyway.

First, a family photo shoot with my awesome SIL. She mostly shoots in Key West, but she's happy to travel to Virginia and stay with her nieces and nephew. Just saying.

courtesy of Megan Ellis Photography

courtesy of Megan Ellis Photography

 Speaking of my SIL, here she is...

courtesy of Megan Ellis Photography

And my bohemian princess. Ensemble compiled completely by herself...

courtesy of Megan Ellis Photography

In our tiny bit of down time, we nap...

and start school...

Then sis is back, with her husband this time, and we head to yet another beach, Kiptopeke State Park. The boys fish the reef while the girls {and Little Man} enjoy the sand.

 Wave goodbye and we're off to, where else, the beach!

 Afton chases seagulls {or flying rats}...

My sweet mommy and daddy...

 Ponies on the dunes...

 seashells that sing the sea...

Wait! Wait! What have you done with your son all this sunny time?

Big chillin' under the umbrella...

This little family needed a break. Carrick is 100% blessing, but the process around his arrival was a huge disruption. It took two months to feel like we were connecting as a family. The last couple weeks were a respite from the daily grind of wrangling disrupted preschoolers. It wasn't all smooth sailing {I left out the pictures of crying girls; there were many}, but it was an encouragement.

But now we're home. Back into the fray.