Lilly and the brothers

When We Took Our Baby to the Prom

2012-02-14T06:42:00.000-08:00

Check us out.

We went to prom.

With our baby.

Scandalous.

I was only 17 when we met, nearly 18 when began dating, but Aaron and I didn't go to prom together.
In fact, I never went to prom.
Collective gasp.
It's never really bothered me.
But now that I have some pictures with 2 of my favorite boys, at prom, I can say my life feels so much more complete.
Uh, yeah...right.
But it was fun to dress up and take cute pictures.

And that's what we did.
We're trying new places for date nights.
We only go out twice a month, but it's fun to search out new places to go and new things to do.
So when I got an email from Reform School saying they were having a Sweetheart Prom photo booth, I emailed Aaron right away and said, "do you want to go to prom?"

There were no trips to the salon, no shopping for a dress.
My sweet friend Rebecca answered my plea for a dress and sent over several choices.
We were feeding the kids dinner, trying on outfits and getting the once over by our kids.
I came out in one dress and James said, "that's a nice dress. But are you going to wear something on the top?"
Apparently James is not a fan of his mom in a low cut dress.
It's hard to get ready for the prom when you have 4 kids.

I ended up with this little 80s era floral, which I paired up with a yellow cardigan and little pink heels.
My favorite Ronnie Kappos necklace tied it all together.
I even had a corsage, see?

Aaron wore one of his old man jackets and a vintage tie.
He looked good.
David sported his black cardigan and a Kramer shirt.
His hair was awesome.
We had a great time.
I'm so glad we went.
I'm glad for the memories made and especially glad for these pictures.
I'll be glad to hold onto these 8 months of dates with David, this little pocket of time when it was just the 3 of us, and remember.

After 14 years with my sweetheart, I could feel like things were getting boring.
You know, same ol, same ol.
But they're not.
Because we've decided:
We're going to keep on having fun.
We're going to keep on having adventures.
We're going to keep on being best friends.
We're going to keep on being in love.
Even if we don't feel like it.
Because sometimes that happens.

But not right now.
Right now, I couldn't love him more.
Thanks for taking me to prom, sweetheart.
I love you.
Love from,
Greta
*awesome prom photos by Virgie of All Monsters Are Good.

Now, in honor of Valentines Day, I am putting out some links here to some of my favorite posts about love.
These are about real love, the hard stuff, the good stuff, the stuff that lasts.
It is always my hope that you will be encouraged, where ever you are in your marriage.
I've been there too.
I like to remember how far we've come.
Here goes:
Working through the hard stuff: go here.
Real Life Romance: go here
A Different Kind of Valentine: go here.

And lastly, the exciting news I promised to share with you.

I am so pleased, honored and excited to be a part of a new online community.

It's called Beautifully Rooted.
Please go here to learn more about it.
There are 25 contributors who will be posting on 5 different topics.
I'll be contributing once a week under the Nurture (parenting) topic.
You can look for my first post today.
Please go visit and then share this wonderful new site with your friends.
Thanks!
And Happy Valentines Day!

Of Pink Casts and Sick Babies

2012-02-13T08:15:00.000-08:00

I've been MIA again.

With pretty good cause.

The past week was a blur of very late nights, and busy, busy days.

One day, for example, I took the kids to swimming, then Lilly to the dr., then Lilly (and all the kids because they are always with me) to the hospital for an x-ray because her foot wasn't healing, then the dr. called back to say her foot was indeed broken and she'd have to get a cast tomorrow, then the grocery store (normally I would not add that into the mix but we were out of coffee and that constituted an emergency) then William's baseball practice and then James' baseball practice.

Through the day, Davy started coughing and by dinner time I could tell his simple cold had morphed into something much worse and he'd be wheezing soon.

Aaron came home with a sore throat and ears that ached.

And I stayed up until 3 holding a very sick, wheezy, feverish baby boy.

The next day, Lilly got a pink cast.

For the first half hour or so, she had a hard time walking.

Her cast slid on our wood floors like an ice skate.

But in no time at all, she said she was going to play outside and was back at it.

Swinging, running, riding her bike.

You just can't slow Lilly down.
She was even giving her brother rides on her trike.

Lilly is such an independent, determined little girl.
Sometimes those qualities make it so hard to parent her.
So hard.
But most of the time, I am so proud of her strong little mind, body and heart.

That same day I took Davy to the dr.

He tested negative for RSV, but had some other respiratory virus.

He was just so sick.

That night I was up with him until 4.

Even as a newborn, he never had to be held in order to sleep.

But I couldn't put him down.

Besides, I was so worried about his breathing that I didn't want to put him down.

Thankfully my parents came up that day and I got to take a solid nap.

And that night Davy finally settled down around 2.

An early night.

Needless to say, blogging, no matter how hard I tried, wasn't happening.

Pretty much nothing was happening except baby holding.

And during the day, it was all I could do to teach school and perhaps do some dishes.

Perhaps.

I think we made it through the worst of it with Davy.

He only woke up twice last night and didn't need a middle of the night breathing treatment.

Lilly is finally sleeping well with her cast.

Nights were the only time that she slowed down enough to acknowledge that her foot hurt.

And last night I found a moment to get a small bit of writing done.

Today we have a Valentines party to get ready for.

We're so excited.

And please check back tomorrow because I have some exciting news to share (not pregnant).

It's already done, so I am not making empty promises.

See you tomorrow!

Love from,

Greta

Winter Sunshine Series--A Birthday at Crystal Cove

2012-02-08T06:05:00.000-08:00

I am exactly 1 month behind on this blog.

It bugs me.

But, life goes on.

And sometimes it feels like a whole lot of life is going on.

I don't have a lot of free time for hobbies--unless I sacrifice all my sleep.

That turns out badly the next day.

For everyone.

Maybe I'll schedule myself a little blogging weekend one of these days--send the big kids off with Aaron and hole up here with David, for a long weekend of writing.

It sounds fun.

And so relaxing.

Hint, hint, husband.

Anyway, back to the sunshine, the beach and catch-up posts.

This one's about my mom's birthday.

My mom shares her birthday with both of her sons.

For reals.

Both boys born 10 years apart to the day.

On her birthday.

Twice.

It's just so weird.

She's had years and years of celebrating her day with her boys, so when I can swing it, I like to get together and remember her on her day.

This year we were able to meet her and my dad at Crystal Cove and celebrate on a beautiful day in the middle of winter.

It was their first time at Crystal Cove.
It was so fun to show them around one of our favorite places on earth.

I love almost all the cottages, but this one has my favorite name.
I kind of want to live in a house named the Hi.de.ho.

Isn't my girl getting big?

The boys took Dziadzi off to explore the tide pools.
This picture makes my heart very full.

This one does too.
I used to love walking on my dad's feet like this.
I even remember the big, brown shoes he always wore.
Lilly wanted Dziadzi to walk across the beach like this.

My dad probably would have done it.
She's got the men in her life pretty well wrapped around her finger.
Except for her brothers.
They spend enough time with her to not be so...misled by her cuteness.
But this guy has it bad.
Lilly loves her daddy.

While everyone else was out walking the beach, my mom and I sat up our chairs and an umbrella and soaked up some sun.
Mom held her Davy boy a lot.
I think he liked it.

I love how much she loves him.

She's such a good Granny.

And she's such a good Mom.
I'm so glad to have her.

We all are.
Of course a day at Crystal Cove must include beach side dining.
Lunch at The Beach Comber never disappoints.
It was a really great day.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

We love you.

Love from,

Greta (and the fam)

Winter Sunshine Series--Sand Sledding

2012-02-02T06:24:00.000-08:00

To all of you who are stuck with grey skies, cold climes and the winter blues, you might just want to skip this post.

And the next few after it.

I'm going to be talking about the beach.

A lot of beach.

It's just that January was such a fabulous month for going to the beach.

Sunshine, temperatures between 70 and 80 and the feeling that you are cheating winter.

It's been shorts weather.

It's been great.

True, we don't have snow.

But we still go sledding.

We head to Seal Beach and slide down the berm that's up for the winter storms.
The storms that are yet to materialize.
They'll probably come sometime in April and we'll be all bitter that spring is rainy.
In the meantime, we're having a blast sand sledding.

It's fun to sled with friends too.

Even, or maybe especially when, you crash.

You don't have to use boogie boards just for waves.
And check out William with the ladies.
I'm gonna have to keep my eye on that boy.

What does Davy do while everyone else is sledding?
He keeps watch from atop the berm.

Pop up!
(this was early January--pre full scale crawling. he wouldn't stay put now. he's making my life harder. good thing he's so darn cute.)

William wanted to slide down the berm with him.
I said "not yet," envisioning Davy with a face full of sand, but I'm pretty sure Davy would have totally been up for it.

When the sun starts sinking lower and everyone is tired from climbing the berm again and again, you head home.

And you say to yourself, "this living in Southern California thing is not half bad."
I will admit, William is longing for a trip to the snow.
But with all this warm weather, our mountains are not very snowy.
So I'm hoping for one good storm in February or March and a couple of days in a cabin in the mountains.
We can get our snow fix and then come back to the beach.
Happy winter!
Love from,
Greta

My Hair!

2012-01-31T00:56:00.000-08:00

I am just going to trust that you have seen O Brother Where Art Thou?
(and if you haven't, get thee to a library and rent it for 50 cents. Now!)
Remember George Clooney's character, Everett, and how obsessed he is with his hair?
When wakened from a sound sleep, he puts his hands to his hair and utters that great line, "my hair!" (at the very end of the above linked video)
I feel a bit like Everett right now.

You'll remember not too long ago I was complaining because my hair was falling out.
By the handful.
It was starting to get frightening.
I always loose hair after my babies, but this was by far the worst of them all.
And I had real life bald spots on my head.
Anyone who said, "let me see," with plans to say something nice to make me feel better, would get a look and say, "wow. That is a lot of hair."
Ouch.

But now, o happy day, callooh! callay! my hair is growing back.
Except it is growing back in and STICKING STRAIGHT UP!
It kind of looks like this little man's hair.
Aaron calls it chimp hair: those thin, wispy hairs that stick straight up.
Not super attractive.

All along my hair line, there it is, standing at attention.
So much of it in fact, that there are places where the rest of my hair can't even lie down flat because there are so many short hairs standing up.
It's in the back too, along the top, anywhere and everywhere.
I can't win.

Perhaps if I got a little bit of Everett's pomade, it might help.
He's a Dapper Dan man.

Or maybe I'll just wait it out and try not to care very much in the meantime.
This having babies, man it does a number on you, doesn't it?
My hair!
Love from,
Greta

When There's Nothing Left to Stand On

2012-01-30T00:12:00.000-08:00

You know when you've heard something a hundred times but then, for the first time, you really hear it?

And these words that you've heard, that you've spoken, that you know by heart, take on a meaning that they never have before.

Your heart fills and so do your eyes.

And they both overflow with gratefulness for a new understanding; a revelation.

You want to mark that moment.

You want to remember when His voice spoke into your heart, and you heard Him.

I grew up on hymns.

I've been singing them for as long as I can remember.

We sang a favorite of mine in church today, The Solid Rock.

It's one I've sung many times before.

It's one I know most of the words to.

It's beautiful.

But this time, the words of that hymn ministered to my heart in a way that they never have before.

"My hope is built on nothing less,

Than Jesus' blood and righteousness;

I dare not trust the sweetest frame,

But wholly lean on Jesus' name.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,

All other ground is sinking sand,

All other ground is sinking sand."

The words struck me--"my hope is built on nothing less."

Where is my hope?

Where have I leaned for strength, for protection, for happiness and peace?

I've leaned on myself.

I've leaned on my marriage.

I've leaned on my husband, my children, my friends, family, home, job, even my circumstances.

And some of those things have failed me.

At some point in my life, all of those things will fail me.

Why?

Because they are sinking sand.

"When darkness veils His lovely face,

I rest on His unchanging grace;

In every high and stormy gale,

My anchor holds within the veil."

When I walked through my darkest valleys, He was there.

When it was so dark, it seemed like He wasn't, He still was.

The rest of my world sank around me, but He was my solid rock.

People will fail you.

Your marriage will fail you.

Your children will fail you.

One day your job might not be there.

Or your home.

One day there will be a fire, an earthquake, a car accident.

We think it won't happen to us.

But it will.

And if our hope is in this world, then we will crumble just as our world crumbles around us.

But if our "hope is built on nothing less" than JESUS, we will stand back up.

Tossed, buffeted, thrown down and hurt by the gales of this life, we will stand back up, because we're "resting on His unchanging grace."

And after that we can look back on the hard times, yes, even the hardest times, and see that He was always there.

It makes me love Him so much more.

Because He was there for me when I was alone.

When I thought all hope was lost, He stayed the course.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff,

they comfort me." Psalm 23:4

I realized today that for much of my life I have placed my hope in the wrong place.

I have given Jesus part of me, but held back much more.

"I can do it myself."

Oh, I hear myself in my 3 year old daughter all day long!

The truth is, I can't do it myself.

No one else can do it for me either.

He is the only thing that doesn't change.

"All other ground is sinking sand."

So I will ask myself, "who am I standing in today?"

"Who am I leaning on?"

It can't be anyone, or anything, but The Solid Rock.

Love from,

Greta

Live Oak Park and Such

2012-01-27T00:07:00.000-08:00

This post is for my fellow Fallbrookians.

To grow up in Fallbrook is to go to Live Oak Park.

I have more memories than I can count centered around that park.

I love it just as much now as I did then.

Probably more.

I always wished I could live in one of those cool, old ranger houses.

Still do.

I always loved the towering, gnarled, oak trees.

Still do.

I always loved the finding acorns stuffed in trees by acorn woodpeckers and squirrels.

Still do.

My love for Fallbrook runs deep.

So does my love for Live Oak Park.

The only complaint I have about the park is that all the old playground equipment is gone.

You know the equipment we played on as kids?

The big merry-go-round that we'd get spinning at crazy speeds and then throw our heads back as we spun and tried not to get sick.

My brother and his friends would hold onto one of the handles and drag the lower half of their bodies in the dirt as it spun.

We had so much fun with that thing.

Then there were the super tall swings, the super tall slide, the bumpy slide, the big teeter totters, and that swing thing that you had to stand under and swung from with your arms up above your head.

Remember that one?

It's all gone.

Replaced with new, probably safer, equipment.

I miss the old, paint-chipped, sharp-metal-edged, head-injury-inducing stuff I grew up with.

But my kids like the new stuff just fine.

We visited the park with the cousins a couple of days after Christmas.

Lilly and Lizzy like to share everything.

Ha!

Only sometimes.

Baby Abby.

William and Cora on the strange teeter-totter contraption.
William loves Cora so much.
They really understand each other, I think.
And she is sweet to him--so she's even better than a big sister would be.
Because sometimes big sisters can be bossy, or bratty.
(except for mine--she's perfect. and i'm not being sarcastic)

I think my love for nature--exploring it, learning about it, studying it, and simply being out in it--started at Live Oak Park.
As a kid, I imagined it to be the wilderness and loved taking off on the "trails", searching for adventure.
It's a beautiful place for exploring.

Especially at this time of year when the grass is green.

A little bit of rain brings out the mushrooms.

And way up there in that Sycamore tree, we saw some acorn woodpeckers.
I wish I had brought my zoom lens.

I'm glad this park of the park hasn't changed.
There is something about those old, stone walls lining the creeks that I just love.
They bring back very specific memories.
Like the time I was 13, wearing my pink jeans, purple shirt, pink scrunchie, purple socks and pink and purple hightops, trying to keep all of them clean by just walking on the sandy parts of the creek bed.
A boy offered to hold my hand and jump down into the deeper part of the creek.
"Let's jump together," he said.
"That's OK," I said with a toss of my ponytail. "I can do it myself."
Is it any wonder I didn't have a boyfriend until I was 18?
I was never very good at flirting.
But I did always love to explore that creek.
Still do.

It's a bit harder now, with Davy in tow and Lilly to help up and down.
James had his first brush with stinging nettles here a couple of years ago.
Now he knows to look out for it.
And poison oak too.
They don't let danger deter them.
And they're dying to go in that tunnel.
I remember feeling the same way.
My mom never let me.
I haven't let them.
I guess some things never change.

Oh those were some stinky and muddy feet heading back to the car.
But they had fun.

And when we got back, there were gingerbread houses to make.
But mostly a lot of candy to eat.
Because, you have to do up Christmas right.

And before we left Fallbrook and Christmas 2011, we swung by the Christmas house for a musical light show that rivals anything that Disneyland has.
And it's free!

Whew!

I'm exhausted.

Cheers to another wonderful Christmas.

Love from,

Greta

PS. If you are a bit of a Fallbrook nerd, or at least interested in its history, I found this, which talks a lot about the history of Live Oak Park.

There are some good stories in it and pictures too.

California Christmas

2012-01-26T22:33:00.000-08:00

We have had just about perfect weather this month.

I think it rained 2 days, maybe 3.

Just enough to make soup, get cozy inside and then be done with it before cabin fever sets in.

I really like 80 degree beach days in January.

In fact, if every January was like this, it might become my favorite month.

The only downside I can see is that I am not getting much use out of those Hunters.

Oh well, there's always February.

It might get cold and wet then.

The weather was pretty amazing during Christmas as well.

The sun was shining and it was over 70 out the day after Christmas, so the kids wanted to go in Nana and Papa's jacuzzi.

They tried doing the polar bear plunge in the pool, but it was just too cold.

So it was back to the jacuzzi they went.
Where lots of splashing and laughing were done.

After 13 + hours of sleep, this little girl was much more fun to be around.

She is amazing in the water.
Her swim teacher told me she'll probably be a better swimmer than her brothers because of her endurance and drive.
She is ultra competitive and won't accept that there is something she can't do.

She was psyching herself up to swim across the jacuzzi under water
I heard her saying to herself, "I can do this! I'm not afraid! I have power!"
And then she did it.

They swam for most of the afternoon.
They got out for snacks.

And to do silly poses for Auntie Greta, the lady who always has a camera in her hands.

I love these kids.

I love time with the cousins.

I love Nana and Papa's jacuzzi in winter.

I love California Christmases.

Love from,

Greta

Christmas Morn

2012-01-25T21:45:00.000-08:00

Finally!
Christmas morning!
The kids were bursting with excitement and woke up before 6.

Being nice to the grandparents, and brother and sister-in-law, we held off on opening presents until 7.
We stalled them with stockings.
It worked.
For a while.
And then, oh glory!, they skipped into the living room for presents!

That's where they saw these!
New (to them) bikes.
Yippee!

They were all so thrilled.
William's new bike was actually James' old one.
Aaron put on new pedals and grips in William's favorite color.
It also got a new training wheels and a bell.
William didn't mind a bit that his bike was a hand-me-down.
I really appreciated that.

Lilly's trike was also a hand-me-down.
It used to be a sorry looking affair.
Lilly called it the Rusty, Old, Blue, Trike.
She loved riding it, though.
Aaron spray painted it her favorite color, added ribbons, and a bell.
She couldn't have been happier.

James got his first bike with hand brakes.
Remember your first bike with handbrakes?
Remember crashing?
James was excited.
And a little nervous.

It was a bike Christmas.

I remember my bike Christmas.
It was pink and purple, with a banana seat covered in butterflies, a basket with pink flowers on it and I loved it.
I wish I still had that bike.

After bikes, we stopped to remember the real reason we were celebrating Christmas.

We put a candle in a cinnamon roll and sang Happy Birthday to Jesus.

William brought the chain calender he made in Sunday School all the way to Fallbrook for Christmas morning.

Every year for Christmas Aaron and I give each kid a special book.
It's a book that they'll keep, the idea being that when they have their own kids, they'll have a great collection of children's books.
I try to choose each book based on each child's interests or personality that year.
They love their books.

Davy got one too, of course.

William read it to him.

But he liked the boxes the best.

We take turns watching everyone open gifts.

Can a boy ever have enough Legos?

Dziadzi loved his pictures from our trip to Cambria.

Aaron got some of the world's best candies.

And I got pink Hunters!

Happiness!!

After presents, we turned on Johnny Mathis, made breakfast and the boys wrestled with Uncle B.

He likes to catch them in the TOOT HOLD.

It's awfully hard to get out of that Toot Hold.
And awfully funny when you're in there.
Unless Uncle B. lets one go.
Then it's not funny any more.
At all.

Lilly loved some time with her Auntie Karen.

And after all that fun and frivolity, we packed up the car again, and drove across town to our next round of Christmas celebrations.
We spent Christmas afternoon with Aaron's family.
We opened presents, and had Christmas dinner together.
And before the sun even set, Lilly was asleep, utterly spent from sickness (the Curse got her too) late nights and full days.
She was a basket case.

I didn't get one picture of the afternoon.

It was chaos control with my kids by that point.
Christmas fun can get a little overwhelming.
But still, a lot of good memories were made.
And I am kind of loving looking back now, mid January, when it already feels like a year has passed.
Merry Christmas!
Love from,
Greta

The Year We Were All In the Christmas Play

2012-01-25T14:44:00.000-08:00

My Dad's church does a Christmas play every Christmas Eve.

Aaron and I have been in it for years.

Like 15 years.

We've played lots of different parts, but as soon as James was born, we had a new role:

The Holy Family.

James was baby Jesus, William was baby Jesus, and David followed in his brother's footsteps this year.

So this year, we were all in the play.

We pulled it off pretty well, don't you think?

I mean, we're practically glowing!

Check it out.

If only I had David wrapped in swaddling clothes for the picture.
But it was cold and I didn't want to undress him yet.
It's always a little crazy before the play starts and really crazy after the play is over, so we just did pictures when and where we could.
It was a lot of fun.

Lilly loves being an angel.
She was glowing too.

James was a shepherd for the 4th or 5 year in a row.
He missed the practice because of The Curse. (it struck him 2 days before Christmas)
But he wasn't worried.
"I've been in the play a lot of times, Mom. I've got this."

William enjoyed his 3rd year as a shepherd.

He's turning into quite the little actor.
Just look at him hamming it up when the angles shone their heavenly light on him.

In fact, when it came time to deliver his line, he instead ad libbed his own line, unrehearsed and timed for optimum effect.
It was pretty funny and he got just the reaction he wanted from the crowd.
Something about going out for lattes.....

Aaron added his own bit of comedy to the play.
Insert your own irreverent caption here.

Midway through the play one of the angels got tired and sat on Joseph's lap.

Baby Jesus played with the hay.
And the shepherds were squirmy.

And just like every year, the play was a perfect success!

Maybe next year we'll actually get to be a part of the audience.

You never know.

Miracles do happen!

Love from,

Greta

The Day Before Christmas

2012-01-25T13:43:00.000-08:00

On Christmas Eve morning, my siblings and their families get together at my mom and dad's house.

We are all with the other side of our families on Christmas, so this is our Christmas morning.

We have donuts for the kids, coffee and treats for the grownups, and all the cousins exchange presents.

It's loud and crazy fun.

There are 7 kids.

4 of them are mine.

I have more kids than my brother and sister combined.

And as you can see from the picture below, mine are the crazy ones.

My kids love all their cousins so much.

They are so lucky to get to see them and play with them often.

I enjoy watching them all together, but that morning, my eye was pretty taken with Davy.

He was passed around from one set of arms to another and just calmly sat, taking in all the chaos.

I love this baby.

Davy and his Dziadzi.

Davy and his cousin Veronica.

She couldn't get enough of him.

Davy and his Uncle Jay.

I take a lot of pictures of my kids.
Like any mommy, I am wholly in love with them and think they are the most beautiful beings on the planet.
But I try to remember that when they grow up and look back through the photos of their youth, they'll want to see pictures of other people besides themselves.
They'll want pictures of their siblings, their cousins, parents, grand parents, aunts, uncles, friends, their house, and neighborhood.
I think they'll even enjoy pictures of the things they played with, their backyard swing set or their favorite restaurant.
I don't always remember to take pictures of these things.
But I'm trying to get better.
Perhaps it should be one of my goals for 2012?

Only a few more Christmas posts to go and then all new content!
I have a big old list of ideas.
Love from,
Greta

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch

2012-01-25T00:48:00.000-08:00

Remember The Christmas Curse?

This year, William came down with it first.

And after being up through the night barfing, he slept away the morning on the couch.

By afternoon though, he needed entertainment.

He read, drew, and played Legos, all from the confines of the couch.

Then he started to get a little antsy.

It had been a long night, and William wasn't the only one who was tired.

So I decided to let the kids, and myself, have a break and watch a movie.

I wanted something Christmasy.

But they said "no thanks!" to my 2 favorites: Charlie Brown and White Christmas.

I guess we've watched them more than a few times.

"Can we watch something new?" they asked.

New? Hmmm.

Then it hit me.

They hadn't seen The Grinch yet.

I loved that movie when I was a kid.

It was such a huge event the night it was on TV.

Remember?

My mom made popcorn and we'd actually get to watch something on TV at night.

We must have watched it in my Grandma's room when she was living with us, because there was no other TV for us to watch.

It was a big deal.

It was a big deal to my kids, too.

It's not often they get to watch something new.

They were excited.

And then the movie started.

And they met the Grinch for the first time.

I snapped pictures of the whole thing.

Because their reaction is so awesome.

James would watch snow on a TV screen, just to get to watch TV, so he was all over this cartoon.

Lilly and William however, have a different response.

They are not too sure about this Grinch fellow.

In fact, I don't think they like him very much.

Take a look.

I love how in picture #4 they are all fully engaged in the movie.

'Yes I hate it, but I can't look away!"

MUST. WATCH. THE. HORRIBLE. MR. GRINCH.

I will laugh at these pictures for the rest of my life.

And for the record, I never, ever, times a katrillion, would have let James watch the Grinch when he was 3.

Or William.

But the more kids I have, the more I find they wear me down.

I've gotten a lot more lax about some things.

If I have any more kids, they'll be drinking coke in their bottle at 6 months old and staying up till 10 to watch the Real Housewives of Orange County.

Lord help me!

Mr. Grinch, you're a three-decker sauerkraut and toad stool sandwich.

With arsenic sauce!

Love from,

Greta

Christmas Past: Naples Island Christmas Lights

2012-01-24T00:00:00.000-08:00

A Christmas post?

That's right.

I have no shame.

Everyone else is all, "it's Valentines day. Let's post about pink and red and hearts and what not."

But not me.

No sirree.

I'm all, "it's still January and I'm getting these dang Christmas posts done if it's the last thing I do!"

And that's what I aim to do, people.

If you are too into the Valentines Day vibe to think about Christmas, you can come back here in a week.

I might be done with Christmas.

...........................................................................................................

Now, a blast from the past.

Christmas in Naples.

I don't know how I have managed to never post about the Christmas lights in Naples.

They are an essential part of our Christmas traditions.

I looked and there is nothing there.

This has to change.

Because we have so many good memories wrapped up in those walks along the canals: William falling in cactus plants, Aaron carrying Lilly on his shoulders, hot cocoa in hand, enjoying an opportunity to wear hats, scarves and mittens, singing along with parading carolers, telling the kids, again and again, not to climb on people's docks, seeing friends, and taking in the lights.

There are many favorites.

The house that looks like Santa's face.

The Indiana Jones house.

The house with all the teddy bears. Like a 1000 of them. No lie.

The one with the fairy houses.

We see them again and again and love them more each time.

But none compare to the house with the roller coaster.

The Ferris wheel.

And the scrambler.

Every year we hope it will be a night that it's up and running.
It's almost worth fighting the weekend crowds just to be sure to see this spectacle in action.
We love it so.

I don't know the history of this place.
I don't know how many Christmases these pieces have seen.
But the elderly gentleman who sets them up can't do it forever.
I'd like to think it will still be here, the roller coaster full of dolls slowly chugging up hill and then racing down, when my kids are grown.
But it might not be.
It probably won't be.
Because things change.

When I was little we went to Christmas Tree Lane every Christmas.
After we left my Babci and Dziadzi's (grandma and grandpa in Polish) we drove to Christmas Tree Lane.
It was one of my most favorite parts of Christmas.
Almost every house on the block, done up for Christmas.
We're talking crazy done up, thousands of lights, moving decorations, music, window scenes with moving figures--it was wonderful.
I can still remember my favorite houses.
They are forever a part of my childhood, Christmas memories.

I wish it was still there.
It's not--or at lest not the Christmas Tree Lane I knew.
But the memories live on.
Just like the memories we are making in Naples will live on.
Memories of the house with the roller coaster.
"Don't you just wish you could shrink down small enough to ride it, Mommy?"
They say that every year.
Love from,
Greta

Be a Voice

2012-01-22T09:48:00.000-08:00

Today is Sanctity of Life Sunday.
Did you know?
It's been 39 years since Roe vs. Wade passed and abortion was legalized in America.
For some, this anniversary that calls for celebration--freedom for women.
But since that ruling, an estimated 52 million abortions have been performed.
That is 52 million babies whose heartbeats have been stopped.
52 million babies whose legs stopped kicking and arms stopped moving.
52 million babies who stopped sucking their thumbs.
52 million lives ended.
It is a tragedy.

The tiny, helpless, unborn baby is always heavy on my heart, but this time of year more so than ever.
It was 2 years ago this month that I learned I was pregnant and 10 weeks later, learned we had lost our baby.
That little life was so celebrated.
And so mourned.

That is the way each of us should feel about each little life lost to abortion.
We should not judge the women, doctors or nurses who take part in abortions.
Rather, we should spend our energy being a voice for those who have no voice.
It isn't easy.
No one wants to talk about it.
It's uncomfortable, unpopular, unpleasant.
You may offend someone, lose friends, or make enemies.
But there are times when each of us are called to take a stand for right and wrong.
It's a matter of life and death!

I found this, written by R. C. Sproul Jr., and it offers something to think about.
He is speaking to pastors, but we can apply his words to ourselves, whether we are pastors or not.
Will you dare to speak up when society tells you not to?

"To be silent is to be complicit. It is to tell our children and grandchildren that we are as guilty as those Germans who knew, and were silent. Of course our pews are filled with the guilty. The same is true of every sin we preach against. Of course the grace of God in Christ trumps even this great evil.
But the same Jesus who died for our sins calls on us to suffer the children to come unto Him. When we are silent, when we treat abortion as a mere social problem, a mere political issue, we expose our complicity. So preach faithfully. Proclaim not the sanctity of life, but the holiness of God, whose image the least of these bear. Call for repentance from the pulpit God placed under your care. Preach the same good news that He preached, that the captive are to be set free, that those marching toward death are to be rescued. Preach, and take the heat. For Jesus says such will make you blessed. Walk by faith, and preach by faith, in season and out of season."

This week, lots of people on the web spoke up against injustice and freedom.
Everyone was talking about SOPA .
Big Internet companies, blogs and Facebook posts abounded, "sign this petition!"
"Let your voice be heard!"
"Tell Congress they can't take away our freedoms!"
As I read these, I wondered if there would be any posts today.
Would there be Facebook posts saying, "remember the unborn!"
Would Google go black for 52 million lives lost?
I didn't think so.
But you can remind people.
Share this post.
Do a Google image search on sanctity of life and post a picture on your facebook page.
Write your own blog post.
Take a moment to mourn for those whose lives have been lost.
Be a voice for the voiceless.
Love from,
Greta

And if you disagree with me, or don't know where you stand in all this, please take a moment to watch this, and see what being pro life really means.

Christmas Past: The Annual Santa Photo

2012-01-10T00:48:00.000-08:00

Here's what happens when you don't blog for almost a month: you must go back in time.

Especially when the month you missed is made up of valuable family memories, such as trips to see Santa and the entire family taking part in a Christmas play.

These memories must be preserved.

(this is also why scrapbooking never worked for me. being 1 month behind isn't bad. but with scrapbooking I was always at least 1 year behind. it was too overwhelming. so I started a blog instead.)

So bear with me and enjoy a mid January trip back into December.

I give you: Christmas Past--2011

............................................................................................................

Our annual trip to see Santa saw some changes this year.

We still went to The Grove.

Where we walked around and took in the sights: the giant tree, the snow flakes overhead and Santa and his reindeer flying through the sky.

Just like last year, Lilly wore a Christmas dress that was a touch too short. (when you've got a perfectly good hand-me-down, why buy a new one?)
And she wore pink shoes again. They were sparkly this time.
But with her new hair cut she looks so much older.

We breakfasted upon donuts at Bob's.
James claimed it was hard for him to fully enjoy his donut when there were so many other good smelling and looking foods around.
I think I need to take that boy on a date to the Farmer's Market and let him choose lunch.
But for the day of the Santa Photo, it has to be Bob's.

We didn't ride the trolley this year, but took a moment to climb on the old car at the gas station next to the toy store.
And then we spent a long time inside the toy store where some of us pointed to every single thing and said, "and I want that for my birthday." (lilly)

There was one big change this year, though.

The kids said they could sit with Santa all by themselves.

It was the first year we didn't do a whole family photo with the big guy.

The kids handled it just fine.

Especially David.

Apparently he loved sitting on Santa's lap.

Don't you just love the expression on his face?

"Hey guys! What's with all the babies crying about Santa? This is cake!"

I need to scan in James' first Santa picture.

Pure terror.

It's hysterical.

As you can see from this picture, he's still not that into Santa.

Sneer.

In the end, I couldn't let the old tradition die and Aaron and I jumped in one of the pictures.

The girl behind the camera was very nice and told me they "do lots of those photos."

I'm sure she was lying to make me feel less dorky.

It was nice of her, but I would have done it anyway.

Who knows how much longer we'll do family photos with Santa?

I've got to get them while I can!

I do love a good family tradition.

Even if it involves driving to LA to sit on the lap of a guy we don't believe in and then loading the kids up with sugary, fried treats.

Christmas only comes once a year.

I say, live it up!

Love from,

Greta

For Where Your Treasure Is

2012-01-09T00:22:00.000-08:00

For our first Bible study of 2012, Aaron and I read Luke chapter 12.

Let me tell you, if you're looking for a good read for the start of your new year, Luke 12 will give you a lot to work with.

As we read, these verses stood out to me.

"Provide purses for yourself that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted,

where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Luke 12: 33-34

And I knew, this is what I need to remember this year.
What are my treasures?

I know what my treasures should be.
They should be people.

And not just these people.
(although, it's easy to see why, in these kind of moments, they are my treasures)

But my treasures should be all kinds of people.
Yes, my husband.
Yes, my kids.
But also, my parents.
My siblings.
My in-laws.
My neighbors.
My best friends.
My new friends.
My kids' friends.
My old friends.
My favorite checkers at Trader Joe's.
My kids' swim teacher.
My blogging buddies.
My treasures should be the relationships I have with people.

Relationships take time.
And I always feel I am running short on time.
But maybe I just need to adjust the way I spend my time.
Maybe I need to spend more time with you.
Would I prefer to stay home and let the kids play in the backyard while I get things done in the house?
Often times, yes I would.
It's easier to stay put, not to pack lunches, and work around nap times.
But easier isn't always better.
And maybe taking the time to be with you is more valuable than wiping down my kitchen cabinets.
Maybe I need to do less of that and more of this.
Maybe I need to remember who my treasures are.

I hate talking on the phone.
How many interruptions can one phone call have?
Call my house around noon and you'll find out.
Waaaaay more than you ever thought humanly possible.
And by the time their bed time rolls around, I hardly want to talk to my husband, let alone anyone else.
But when my mom says to me, "sometimes I just need to hear your voice," I need to listen to that and call her every once in a while.
I think she'd like that.
I think she'd like to know that she is one of my treasures.

And in those moments when I've finally served everyone else lunch, and nursed the baby and cleaned up the lunch mess, and made my own lunch and shooed the kids out the back door and sat down to eat in my 10 minutes of quiet for the day, I need to think about my treasures.
Because that is the moment when Lilly comes in and says, "can I have a bite of that?"
What I really want to say to her (and often do) is, "NO, you can NOT have a bite of this! I just made you lunch. Now give me 10 minutes to myself and go outside and play with your brothers! Dang it!"
And then what an opportunity I have lost.
She is my treasure.
Not a lunch to myself.
Not 10 minutes to myself.
Not myself.
"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
This will not be easy.

This morning in church we sang this song:
"Create in me a clean heart O God,
That I might be serve you.
Create in me a clean heart O God,
That I might be renewed.
So fill me.
And heal me.
And bring me back to You.
Create in me a clean heart O God,
That I might serve You."

And so, in this month of New Year's resolutions, of cleaning out closets and detoxing bodies, of getting back in shape and cutting the clutter, I've decided I need to get my heart in order.

I've read lots of inspiring New Year's blog posts and I've been reorganizing my pantry with the best of them.

But those things really don't matter.

Oh yes, it feels good to have my pantry shelves all spic and span.

But if my heart is crowded with bitterness, selfishness and rage, well then, I am putting my energy in the wrong place.

"But now you must rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander and filthy language from your lips." Colosians 3:8

(really want a challenge? read the whole passage)

I need to spend less of my time on me and more of it on others.

"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

2011 was about healing.

And I can't wait to write about it.

But I am ready to move forward now.

My hope for 2012 is that God would fill me so that I might serve Him, and you.

My hope is that I will remember who my treasures are.

I'm only a week (or so) late in saying, Happy New Year!

Love from,

Greta

PS. About the pictures.

One day last month William wanted to get in the crib and take pictures with Davy.

Then everyone did. It was really sweet. And funny.

Don't you just love how Davy is so into his big brothers and loving every moment with them?

But then his big sister gets in the crib with him and he's all, "get this woman the heck away from me!"

Sometimes she's a little rough in her love for him.

Like, squeeze his neck way too tight kind of love.

Like, tickle his armpit way too hard kind of love.

Like, rub his head so hard his hair is coming out kind of love.

Not really.

But almost.

He gets a little overwhelmed by her on occasion.

But she does love him.

She makes sure his buttons are buttoned and his snaps are snapped.

She helps with diaper changes and washes his hair in the bath.

She loves you David.

Sometimes it's just a bit too much.

Also, thanks to those of you who sent notes saying hi and you hoped all was well.

It is.

I know I was gone a long while.

Longer than even after I had a baby.

Weird.

But Christmas and all its activities, projects, busy, busy, busy days and nights got to me.

The Christmas curse got to me.

It even got to me on New Year's weekend when I came down with the flu and thus could not catch up the way I had planned.

It is only this week that I feel like I am almost back to normal after all the holiday frivolity.

And that's saying something because I have had 4 sick kids for the past week.

Look for lots of mid January Christmas posts coming up.

I am not ashamed to look back!

It's Not Christmas Unless Someone is Throwing Up

2011-12-19T09:47:00.000-08:00

I have countless pictures like this.

A Christmas tree, my favorite ceramic Santa, a room full of merry and cheer, and a kid and a bowl.

It's not Christmas around here unless someone is throwing up.
It has been going on for years.
At first it was annoying, but now it's just become expected.
It's almost comical.
Almost.

Last year I thought we'd escaped.
Everyone but me was sick in the week leading up to Christmas.
Aaron was so sick with strep throat that he was literally in bed for 4 days.
But he he started feeling better on the 23rd.
And after Christmas day had passed with no throw up, I thought the curse had been broken.
Until the next day when William said, "I don't feel good," and threw up all his breakfast cereal all over my in-law's couch.
I don't think there is any escape.

That's why I wasn't surprised last night when William came out of the bedroom at midnight.
"What's wrong?" I asked him.
"Nothing. I have to go to the bathroom."
And then, as he sat on the toilet with obvious, and intense, bowel issues he said, "and I accidentally threw up in James' bed."
Of course.

So today I won't be making presents or baking cookies for the neighbors with the kids.
I'll be washing laundry and the throw up bowl.
I'll be stroking my son's head and hoping for a shower.
I'll be praying the rest of the family escapes the curse, but I won't be surprised if they don't.
I'll be celebrating the Christmas season with our least favorite tradition.
But it's OK.
I'm getting used to it.
Happy Christmas friends!

Love from,
Greta

PS. In honor of Christmas and my inability to post as of late, I'll be offering up some of my favorite recipes for Christmas morning, Christmas baking, and Christmas get togethers over at Picnics in the Park. None of it will be new content because I can't really manage that in between barf bowl cleanings, but you might get some good ideas from some old posts. Go take a look. Thanks!

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2011-12-13T01:57:00.000-08:00

Does someone ask you every day, "soooo, are you all ready for Christmas?"

And when they do, do you have to fight the urge to slap them?

Or is that just me?

Maybe it's because I am not ready.

And I probably won't be--not even on Christmas morning.

My Christmas hopes and dreams list grows shorter, just as William's red and green paper chain grows shorter.

Not because I am checking things off that I've done.

No, I'm checking things off that I don't have enough time to do.

Or that I'm too tired to do.

Tired because I have a little boy who's second tooth is coming in, hasn't pooped in 3 days and has his first cold.

It's the perfect storm.

He's not really that fussy. Like crying fussy.

He just wakes up a lot at night and wants to nurse.

A lot.

That's why I'm up at 1 AM writing things that will probably make no sense tomorrow.

Even though I got like 3 hours of sleep last night.

No lie.

Oh well.

I know this time will pass.

The bad.

And the good.

And that's why I got all teary eyed when we were decorating the tree.

After their crazy excitement wore off a bit, and I was able to trust them with breakable treasures, these 3 were able to decorate the whole tree by themselves.
Of course it was a mess, but I didn't really care.
I just sat on the floor handing them ornaments, loving how excited they were by each one and the memories their ornaments already hold for them, "oh! It's my Donald Duck ornament!" "Look this one has my name! It's my Hello Kitty!"
I looked up at them and wiped away tears, knowing they'll be grownups in the blink of an eye.

After we decorated the tree, we turned off the lights like always.
And as we admired our tree, we sang every Christmas carol we knew.
It was spontaneous and so much fun.
A new memory made.
A new tradition started.

I keep that thought in mind as I feel myself get stressed that I still haven't done Christmas baking, or gotten all the gifts taken care of, or let another year go by without sending Christmas cards.
Those things are fun, and nice and great even.
But at the end of my days, will I care that I didn't get that batch of homemade cookies in? (but if you find the time, make these--they are amazing--see how messed up I am?)
I doubt it.
Instead I am just loving these moments of busy days and busy nights, of the simple pleasures of celebrating Christmas with my babies.

Right now, we are loving that it's time to use our Christmas cups.

For cocoa with marshmallows and whip cream.

We are loving our kids on stage at church. (James on right in white shirt and tie)

We are loving the Christmas story.

And I am loving the little hands that wait all year for this nativity set.

We are loving each other.
Leaving notes on the bathroom mirror (this one, from James, says, "I love Mom") and cleaning bedrooms and sweeping the kitchen without being asked.
Do they ever know the way to Mommy's heart?

And even though my notebook is full of ideas for new posts, I am taking a little break.
I itch to write, but there just aren't that many days until Christmas.
I want to live it up!
There are ballets to attend, Christmas light walks to take, trips to see Santa and maybe even some cookies to bake.

But mostly, there are only a few nights left for one of my favorite parts of Christmas.
Every night, before I go to bed, I turn off all the lights except for the tree.
It's quiet and bright and merry and melancholy all at the same time.
Christmas time, and all the good things it entails, means more to me each year.
I often think that things might have been different this year--and not in a good way-- I am so very grateful for the way they are.
Grateful that "Our First Christmas" ornament is still on the tree (even though it's terribly ugly) and that this year there will be another "Baby's First Christmas" ornament added to the other 3.
There is much joy in my heart.

"And the angel said unto them, fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."

Luke 2: 10-11

It is because of Christ the Lord that I sit here tonight, nursing this baby by the light of a Christmas tree.

It is because of the Christmas story.

The story of redemption and hope, sent to earth as a little baby.

Impossible?

Yes.

Thankfully, God can do the impossible.

Merry Christmas, friends.

Love from,

Greta

Remembering This Moment: Date Night With Davy

2011-12-07T02:08:00.000-08:00

Remembering This Moment: capturing a moment in our day that I want to hold onto. It doesn't have to be anything special, just one of the myriad of small, beautiful moments that make up our life. I know someday the memories of these moments will fade. This is my way of hanging onto them.

Still Reeling

2011-12-05T01:20:00.000-08:00

Wow.

What a weekend.

I try not to pack our weekends too full.

I don't do well with too much activity.

But there are seasons when it can't be helped.

Spring--when everyone in our family except me has a birthday.

And Christmas time.

The kids and I will spend tomorrow recovering from all the fun we had this weekend.

Because I know you totally care, here's the recap.

Friday night, Aaron, Davy and I went on a date.

I love date nights with these 2 men.

We went to LA for a change of scenery and had a fabulous time.

Home Schooling Right Now: Of Butterflies and Poetry

2011-12-02T09:03:00.000-08:00

Does Butterflies and Poetry sound too much like Unicorns and Rainbows?

Sorry.

I don't want to make anyone gag.

But there are moments of Butterflies and Poetry in my home schooling life.

And those moments get me through the other moments.

There are the other moments, you know.

Because schooling at home is a mixed bag.

For me, the schooling part of it is truly wonderful.

I love teaching.

Always have.

And teaching my kids, exactly the way I feel is best for them--well, that's just downright perfection.

It's the fitting in of the schooling with the other parts of my life that I find challenging.

And sometimes exhausting, overwhelming, or impossible.

Yesterday, for example, the house was thrashed when Aaron came home from work.

I like to have the house clean and dinner ready when he gets home.

It feels like a good start to our night.

He doesn't expect that--it's all me.

But like I told him, sometimes I can't do it all.

Schooling, taking the kids out for a hike and art, cleaning the house, getting them bathed and a dinner on the table that didn't come out of a frozen pizza box is sometimes too much for me in one day.

It is hard to find a balance.
There is a lot I have to do.
And a lot I want to do.

I struggle with it every day.

Occasionally there is a day when schooling goes great and we get it all done.
The house is sparkly.
I have a healthy and delicious dinner on the stove, and the table is set.
I did my personal devotions and didn't get mad at the kids all day.
I'm showered and not wearing baggy, stretched out yoga pants when Aaron walks in the door at 6.

Those days, I feel AWESOME!

Like this. (watch it--you'll appreciate the laugh--and I deserve a raise too, because I'm awesome)

But most days, there are just moments of awesome and a whole lot of more of not awesome.

Which is actually for the best, because it is in the not awesome moments that I realize how much I can't do this on my own.
When I think I can, I get prideful.

Pride is one of my stumbling blocks.
I need to remember the truth of this verse:
"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God--not by works, so that no one can boast." Ephesians 2:8-9
Pride makes me think I don't need God.
And I do.
Oh yes I do.
That is why the hard moments are good.
As much as I don't like them.
As much as I hate them.
The hard moments soften my heart and bring me back to the place where I realize my own weakness and then ask for help.
I need help.
Oh yes I do.

And those hard moments make the beautiful ones that much more precious.
Like the other day when this monarch butterfly landed on the milkweed plant in our yard.
We watched it for a long time.
Though we were standing right next to the plant, the butterfly didn't even notice us.
She fluttered around, seeming almost drunk on the nectar, flying right past our heads, hands and faces.
We watched her drink.
It was beautiful.
Amazing.

"Guys", I said, "this is one of the butterflies favorite plants, the milkweed. That's why she loves it so much."
"Milkweed!" exclaimed James. "Just like our poem! In dusty pods the milkweed, its hidden silk has spun."
Yes, James, just like our poem.

It was just a little thing.
A poem remembered.
A connection made.
Science and literature colliding.
Watching his world get a little bit bigger.
But to me, it was a sweet reminder of all the little moments of beauty that fill my day.
Moments that have nothing to do with me and what I've gotten done or not gotten done..
These moments are a gift of God.

Hoping your weekend is full of many beautiful moments and that you remember Who they come from.
Especially now, as we celebrate the greatest gift of all!
Happy Christmas, friends.
Love from,
Greta

Going to the Getty

2011-11-30T09:52:00.000-08:00

The day after Thanksgiving, we woke our kids at 3 am and hustled them out to the Black Friday sales.

It was kind of worrisome that we were getting such a late start.

We needed to get our X box games for a steal.

Good thing we brought our pepper spray along, or we'd never have made it out without saving the big bucks.

Priorities people.

Priorities.

Oh wait.

We actually went to The Getty.

Because, somehow, that seemed more relaxing and fun.

(well, as relaxing as taking 4 little kids to a museum can be)

If you've never been to The Getty, I highly, highly recommend it.

If you are here visiting, take a break from the theme park circuit and get thee to The Getty!

And if you live in So Cal and still haven't visited, for shame!

It's such a fabulous place.

Warning: copious amounts of pictures to follow.

But really, how could I not take copious amounts of pictures?

It was a gorgeous fall day full of golden light.

There were trees full of fall color everywhere.

I have 5 stinking adorable people to photograph.

And, The Getty gardens are beautiful.

I couldn't stop myself.

Enjoy.

.........................................................................................................

The visit starts with a tram ride up to the top of the hill.

The kids loved this part.

Fantastic views of Los Angeles opened up before our eyes the higher we went.

Visit The Getty in the fall.

Seriously.

I have 4 kids!

I still find that hard to believe.

We didn't spend a lot of time inside the galleries.
A trip to see Van Gogh's Irises was in order.
Along with a little art history lesson from Daddy.
I would have liked to leisurely peruse, but the rooms were crowded, the guards were giving us looks and the kids really wanted to explore outside.
Rather than force everyone to look at art just because we were there, we just did a little.
It was a good start.
And it won't be our last visit.

And really, those gardens were calling our name.

The big grassy hill is just right for rolling down.

For wrestling.

And for stealing a moment with my husband, sitting close and pretending we don't have 1 kid crawling all over us and 3 others running around like crazy people.

We laugh a lot.
It keeps us sane.
And from crying.
At least most of the time.

Have I mentioned how much I love him?
I do love you, Aaron. Heaps.

We followed the path down to the maze.
The kids were so bummed we couldn't actually go in the maze.
They asked me to take pictures of it so we could at least follow it with a pencil.

Lilly picked me lots of flowers.
Which is probably against the rules but still sweet.

Davy was a dreamboat, as ususal.
God knew just what sort of temperment we needed in our baby #4.
Thank you God, for our angel baby.

James really loved the sculpture garden.
This one was our favorite.
It looks very mid-century doesn't it?
It's called The Jousters and it's by Alexander Caulder.

The Sycamore trees were so beautiful.

William scored one of the seed balls for our nature table.
They're different than the spiky balls from the Sweet Gum tree--softer and actually full of hundred of sycamore seeds.

One of the favorite parts of the day was following this stream up to it's source.
Up the hill, crossing bridges.

Until they found this giant "cave".

Then up the stairs to a tiny stream of water that led to a small hole in the ground that let the water fall down to the cave and down to the stream.
William sent some leaves down the hole, ala Paddle to the Sea.

As I said earlier, the guards gave us lots of looks.
I thought they might kick us out when William crossed the line and got too close to a painting. (there was a literal line you were not supposed to cross. we hadn't noticed it and therefore had not told him about it. oops.)
He wasn't being naughty, just dropped his seed ball and was chasing it.
But he did get awfully close to a painting and the guard was there in a nano second to scold us.
I felt like I was 4 years old.
I hate getting in trouble.
They also didn't like it when the kids were walking along this wall.
See the guard standing there to make sure they didn't run or jump on it?
And see Aaron being a good example to our kids, "sure you can stand on this wall, kids!"
It's quite an experience to visit a museum with little kids in tow.
But I think they did a great job and it's never to early to start teaching them how to behave in all sorts of different environments.

The day ended with a visit to the lookout over the cactus garden.
Golden, setting sun and gorgeous views.
City, ocean, and mountains dusted with snow.
Say what you will about LA, but there is something pretty magical about that combination.

William tries to give me a heart attack.
There's quite a drop from this spot.
Into cactuses.
Sheesh.

My darlings.
Ha!

More of my darlings.
1.

4.
Teething.
Good thing he has Sophie Giraffe to take out all his aggression on.
We didn't even know the tooth came through until yesterday.
His first one!

Umm, my husband is a babe.

And seriously the best daddy ever.
My kids are the luckiest.

I will not lie--I hate this picture of me.
Just like I hate almost all pictures of me.
But if I only put up pictures of me that I like, there would be like 2 pictures a year.
And there should be some pictures of the mama, am I right?
So I deny my vanity and post.
Here's the whole gang.

"There's snow on the mountains!"

Finding fossils in the travertine walls.

See!

We stayed until sunset.

And walked/ran the 3/4 mile down the hill instead of waiting in line for the tram.
The views were spectacular.

All the way to the ocean.

Good bye, Getty.

We'll be back.

Get ready.

Love from,

Greta

Thanksgiving 2011

2011-11-28T10:30:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving flies by doesn't it?

It seems like you just started cooking and you're back in the kitchen cleaning up.

But, you know what made this Thanksgiving one of the best ever?

My dishwasher.

Yes, I am eternally thankful for my dishwasher.

This was the first Thanksgiving with a dishwasher and it made the clean up so much better.

There is not a day that goes by that I am not thankful for my dishwasher.

Live 34 years without one, washing dishes for 5, 3 times a day, day in and day out, and you'll be singing the praises of a dishwasher also.

It was a good Thanksgiving.

We rearrange our furniture every year for Thanksgiving.

The living room becomes the dining room and vice versa.

The kids love the change.

I like it too.

Our living room furniture fits so perfectly in the dining room.

It's small, but it feels very cozy.

We call it the lounge.

And we usually leave it that way for a few days and enjoy the change of pace.

I'm sitting in the lounge right now.

When we move the couch, there are always some surprises.
I clean under the couch, but I haven't really thought about behind the couch.
This year I learned I should.
Dirty tissues stuck to the wall.
Classy.
But still better than boogers, I think.
Don't you?

After I got the turkey under way, I started my rolls.
I love the smell of yeast in the house.

I am always stressed about the turkey being underdone, overdone or being messed up in some way.
So this year I bought 2 thermometers to double check the bird and provide me a little extra piece of mind.
Last year my 18 pound turkey cooked in 3 hours.
I was stressed it was going to be cold by the time all the other things were warmed up.
This year my 18 pound turkey cooked in 5 hours.
I was stressed everything else would be cold while we waited for the turkey to cook.
Ugh. I can't win.

I bought a pie from Bake and Broil. (a Long Beach institution--love it)
One day I aspire to make my own pie.
This was not the year for it.
But Bake and Broil did not disappoint.
And neither did my sister-in-law's dairy free, gluten free pie.
Who would have thought it would be possible.
(like my vintage cake stand? found it at an estate sale for $3. see more tales of thrifting here)

Aaron and I decided to go as Ward and June Cleaver for Thanksgiving.
Aaron: cardigan and pipe.

Greta: cardigan and pearls.

Since my plans to sew a runner for the Thanksgiving table while Aaron was gone did not materialize, Aaron helped me jerry rig it with duct tape.

Yeah, you heard me right, duct tape.
Classy.

I also used craft paper, waxed leaves, pomegranates, my new candle sticks and votive holders for the tables.
The plates were white, turquoise and yellow.
It was eclectic (nice way of saying mismatched) and pretty simple.
But I liked it.

Dinner was 2 hours later than I planned.

Darn turkey!

My rolls were flat because they had to wait so long to go in the oven.

I felt very responsible for things not being just right.

But everyone was gracious.

We sang a hymn before we ate and it was my favorite part of the whole day.

That and sharing a meal with my family.

All the cousins ran in and out of the house, playing hide and seek and spies.

They love each other so much.

William got too nervous to recite our poem, so he, James and I sang "Over the River" instead. (it's a Thanksgiving song, not a Chrsitmas one. did you know that?)

It was pretty bad, but that's OK.

Their cousin Scotty also performed a song, accompanied by his Daddy on the uke.

It was great.

We played Catch Phrase after dinner and laughed a lot.

I love Thanksgiving.

I'm already looking forward to next year.

Love from,

Greta

While Daddy was Away

2011-11-28T08:55:00.000-08:00

We survived!

Aaron got home late Wednesday afternoon.

We were all so glad to see him.

It was a long haul, but not as hard as I thought it would be

Last year, when I was pregnant, it was much more difficult.

So that was good.

But, of course, none of my glorious plans to accomplish projects came to fruition.

Most nights I fell asleep on the couch before 9:30. (that's crazy early for me)

Caring for 4 children all alone, all day, is utterly exhausting.

I hear by give a shout out to all the single parents and military moms--you all are amazing.

In this job, it is so nice to have some backup.

We had good days, like this hike.

And hard days. (Lilly pulling a full grocery cart over on herself + William falling off the top of our 2 story playhouse)

But I was really honest with the kids and told them I would need their help.

They didn't need me to explain my deficiencies --they are all too familiar with them.

I asked them to pray for me when I was frustrated, exasperated, overwhelmed or had a bad attitude.

They took it to heart, and I heard this a lot, "Mommy, I'm praying for you."

It helped.

Even when the last thing I wanted was someone praying for me.

I have never experienced anything so quick to snap me out of my crappy attitude than to see my 5 year old son, on his knees next to the couch, praying for me.

HUMBLING.

In the end I was grateful for the opportunity to fly solo with the kids.

It was good for us.

But it was even better when Aaron came home.

Oh how we missed him.

One thing made abundantly clear while daddy was away is that:

LIFE IS BETTER WHEN DADDY IS HERE.

LIFE IS SWEETER WHEN DADDY IS HERE.

LIFE IS RICHER WHEN DADDY IS HERE.

WE ARE GRATEFUL FOR DADDY.

Welcome home baby!

Here are a few shots from our days while Daddy was away.

We tried to get in as many phone calls to Daddy as his crazy hours would allow.

I spent 4 days in Fallbrook with the kids, getting backup from the grandparents.
My dad took the big kids to the SD Zoo one day and Davy and I visited my sister for lunch.

That day off was just what I needed; an entire day to myself--from morning until night.
I did a little thrifting, took myself to lunch, read magazines and savored the quiet while drinking hot tea in my parent's living room.
They have an amazing view.
Thanks for that day, Dad. You rock my world.

We spent the night at my in-laws, where Nana made copious amounts of bacon for my kids' favorite breakfast.

And alien pancakes for William.

They took my kids out for the afternoon on what might have been the kids worst day of all.

I felt bad about it, but still enjoyed the chance for a nap.

My kids are so lucky to have such amazing grandparents in their life.

I'm lucky they have such amazing grandparents in their life.

Davy started backwards crawling while Aaron was gone.

I documented it all for him.

We had our first non-grandparent sleepover.

Lilly went and spent the night with her girl cousins and the boys had their boy cousin here.

Of course, watching Star Wars was in order.

Davy was so happy to be one of the big boys.

And while he would have gladly watched the whole movie, (look at his intent little face) I just don't feel right about filling my 6 month old baby's brain with images of Darth Vader and Joba the Hut.

So he got to stay for the photo opp and then went to bed.

The sleepover was a huge success.

PS. Having 4 boys here was a breeze. As long as there are Legos, a backyard to run around in (a lot) and Star Wars, they are happy campers.

I got our Thanksgiving turkey.

It was 18.5 pounds--the biggest that will fit in my oven.

It was almost as big as Davy.

And finally, the long awaited arrival of Daddy!
He came bearing gifts, but the best thing was just having him home.
Although, I have to admit, the boys were pretty stoked with their bionicals.
And my mid century candlesticks are pretty awesome.

I couldn't hlep but breathe a sigh of relief when Aaron put the kids to bed that night.

Whew.

We made it!

Love from,

Greta