Happy Fall, Y'all

My husband navigated the winding road in the twilight.  In October, the bone-like trees might look creepy stretching into the crisp air and silhouetted against the sky, but the car was warm with contentment.  

This, I thought, this is one of those days I longed for when doctors told us a family wasn't in our future.

Sometimes I time my kids to see how long they can go before whining or doing something obnoxious to the other like Alexandra kicking Max or Max telling her everything she does is wrong. (FYI: This morning the record was 8 minutes.)

But this weekend was filled with those moments of wonder a to-be parent longs for.

At Peek-a-Boo Petting Zoo we discovered baby chicks...

baby bottles....

bunnies...

a hay maze...

fishing for rubber duckies...

 and a princess with her pumpkin.

We topped off the day with dinner at Soda Steve's, a fun soda shop that would fit right into a show like Gilmore Girls or Hart of Dixie.

The next day we decided to take our little knight and princess to the Castle in Muskogee for Pumpkin Kingdom.

Lots of scary things lurked within the castle walls and in the village after dark,

but we opted for a hayride,

balloon sword and doggie, 

and a bouncy house (apparently, this was scary).  

We had a great weekend with our little pumpkins.

And I'm so glad. Making memories is important.  One never knows what's lurking around the bend.

(For me, I'm pretty sure it's a mountain of laundry populated with giant dust bunnies.)

Happy fall, ya'll.

Happy Birthday, Brother

My brother had rules.
1.  Don't hug him.
2.  Don't go in his room.
3.  Don't touch anything if he allows me in said room. (His dog Yoda could drool on his pillow, but if I so much as wrinkled the comforter, I apparently left my inherently offensive sister-smell on it.)
4. Do what he says. 

He reinforced his views with backup.
Mooooom! Tell her to stop singing at the table.
Mooooom! Make her sit with her legs together.
Mooooom! She has milk-breath. (Again, the dog?)

Even then, I suspected Brett loved me.  After all, he loved his dog.  And he called me a dog so often that in the first grade I barked and walked on all-fours at school for a period of time. 

photo credit: Martha Bryant                                Disney World

As if my sheer existence wasn't embarrassing enough for a brother five years older than the little sister who idolized him, it would seem that having a dog for a sibling would push him over the edge.

It didn't.

He was too cool for that. We watched Empire Strikes Back for his 10th birthday. I've been a scifi geek--if mostly closeted--ever since.  He gave me Madonna's True Blue tape.  I memorized every word. One of my favorite memories is us blowing up his models in the field behind our house while filming it. It's no surprise I wanted to create a story to accompany the explosions, but he was the special effects guy and had no time for his little sister's nonsense.

As an adult, he put a poster of a monkey in his classroom and told his students it was a picture of his sister.  When visiting him once, a child ran up and hugged him around his kneecaps (my brother is 6'2").  Brett introduced me as his sister.  The kid's eyes widened and he whispered. "She doesn't look like her picture!"

That's when I found out I had been promoted from canine to primate.

I should not have felt as happy as I did.

In addition to being older, and therefore cooler, Brett was good at stuff I was not. Probably our biggest scholastic difference is his scientific mind. I signed up for an astronomy class in college, thinking it was astrology.  Brett became a science teacher.  One of my biology teachers accused me of asking "stupid questions" as a joke.  Another student came to my "defense" and informed her that, no, I really was that bad in science.  Such an event never happened to my brother. He created spectacular science projects.  The science fair filled me with dread, but it lit him with excitement. Most of my projects were his ideas and simple--like making a compass by rubbing a needle against a magnet. I had no ideas of my own.

He's still teaching me.

Earlier this summer, he showed up at my house with shears.  Since he's all science-y, Mother Nature likes him. Plants wilt at the sight of me. Brett has a green thumb. Mine is black. 

Every once in a while, he beautifies my neglected yard.  Most recently, he brought reinforcements.  The whole family--okay, mostly Uncle Brett and Aunt Lisa--lopped limbs, trimmed bushes, and pulled weeds for an hour or so. I tried to guess where he would next tell me to clip, but I was always wrong. Of course. A beautiful lawn is a science.

Brett and Lisa in their backyard aka Eden

 A horsefly bit him that afternoon. He shrugged as blood dripped down his leg and went on clipping. If that had been me, I would have curled into the fetal position.

Still, it was . . . fun.  Usually, the surest way to get me to cuss is to do yard work, but with our families working together it was a garden party.  Maybe next time I'll have snacks and drinks. 

I'm not sure what motivates him to help us with our yard.  Maybe he recognizes my complete incompetence with all things green.  Maybe he feels sorry for plants who can't cry as my children do to complain of thirst. Maybe he's embarrassed by how sad our lawn looks and that people know we're related.  Maybe he is just super generous and knows it makes me happy.

Whatever the reason... it really, really does make me happy. Like getting that Madonna cassette or being allowed to cross the threshold of his room and play Atari.  I looked at my front yard this morning and sighed. It was pretty. I felt cool.

And I was so glad my little ones witnessed siblings as friends who know their siblings' greatest weaknesses and faults. And they help make them right with the world.  I tried to drive the point home with my son. "Isn't it nice of Uncle Brett and Aunt Lisa to come help us?"

Max nodded. "That's what brothers do."

Indeed.

That, and compare their little sisters to animals.

photo credit: Martha Bryant

Happy birthday, Brett the Brat.


Anyone have a sibling story to share?  How does your sibling help balance you?

Gnomes at Our Chateau

I spent the weekend with gnomes. Alexandra twists the tips of their hats each time she arrives at our chateau. (Okay, it's an old camper ya'll, but it's on a hill, so I call it The Chateau.)

Being so close to nature makes me realize how small I am.

The chiggers remind me that no matter how big I am little things can get to me.

But the gnomes never falter. These little guys work hard.

They also know when to take it easy and add whimsy to the world.

I wish I could harness their magic.

After all, it's their world, too.

Sink or Swim

When we took this photo, we had no idea how much we truly were living on the edge. 

We were on vacation.  When nothing bad can happen. Right?

We were so naive.

When we decided to leave the pool, we removed the kids' life jackets. As he has so often done, Max declared that he didn't need swimming lessons or a life jacket because he already knew how to swim.

Then he jumped in.

We've all heard the saying "sink or swim." I figured he'd get a little scared and then realize that some skills need to be learned. Maybe, I thought, this would be a good lesson.

We all watched him. He was only a couple of feet from me. He seemed fine. Maybe Max had been right all along and he truly could swim.  He has a build similar to Olympian Michael Phelps --long body, big feet, broad shoulders.  Maybe he would show us all. Good for him.

His eyes were wide and he had a dazed smile on his face--like maybe he was surprised.  He moved his arms and legs like he was trying to move toward the stairs and climb them. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it.

That's when Garrett jumped in and pulled him into his arms.

Thank God.   Thank God Garrett was there.  Reality punched me in the gut.  We'd all been watching him struggle right in front of me, but I thought he was okay. Thank God Garrett was there.

Not long after we returned a friend posted this article on Facebook, and I lost it.  Full blown tears. If I'd been unnerved at the pool, I was terrified when I read the article. We are so, so lucky.

Read this article.  Drowning doesn't look like it does on television.  Know the signs.

Max splashed through his first official swim lesson today.  He wasn't scared, and he didn't have false bravado either. When the instructor asked for a volunteer, I heard his little voice ring out. "I can try."

And he did.

Step Right Up to the Game of Life

Life doesn't always play fair.

The way we deal with it makes us the people we are.

I'm not sure I've ever written about this topic publicly. 

But I share my story as a valentine to other couples who are playing the Carnival Game of Life...and think it might just be rigged against them.

Check out my story over at Oklahoma Women Bloggers today!

For the love of ... love

Today is supposed to be about love.

Garrett and I may be complete opposites in most things, but we love to travel.  We've complained recently we haven't gone anywhere in the last four years.  But that's not exactly true.

Traveling from here...

February 14, 1998

...to here...

September 2012

...is a long way to go.

It may not always feel like a vacation, but it's probably been the greatest journey of our lives.

Who needs Paris? We've been there. All we need is love.

Decked the Halls and Done with December

I am tuckered out.

I am thrilled the holiday season is over.  Sure, the tree is still lit, but 2012 is OVER. The advent calendar is boxed up and my insane collection of popsicle sticks listing "fun" family activities is tucked away until next December.

If every member of the family hadn't raced through Kleenex boxes and hacking coughs, the season might have been a little merrier.  Sleep does that, I hear. By holly or by jolly, we managed to make some memories, though.

We watched Christmas movies and read special books.  We piled into the car in our pajamas and looked at lights.  We decorated our own house.  On a personal note, I enjoyed my annual Inklings Christmas tea with my writing buddies and ran/walked a 5k with my hubby and friends.

Here are some highlights:

Christmas Parade
My parents parked their truck at a prime location about two hours before the parade began. How awesome are they?! We showed up with McDonald's (don't judge me) and had a picnic right in the bed of their truck as we waited. The kids were joy incarnate.

School Christmas Program
The program is a testimony to the teachers' amazing creativity and patience.  Look at his cute Christmas tree shirt! Each child in that school wore a hand made shirt and sang carols.  Just thinking about the process gives me the urge to wash the inevitable paint out of my hair. Aside from the fact they're wonderful teachers who love our kids, I obviously love those ladies because they create Pinterest crafts with my boy...so I don't have to.

Gingerbread House
The grands all visited and--partially against their will--helped Max decorate his first gingerbread house.  My mom (we are so similar) came up with the idea of putting pins in the cookies to make the house stay together. Yeah, um, who needs icing? Let's place an emergency room visit in a baked good. Garrett's mom stuck with Max until the powdered sugar snow fell...everywhere. Grandma Celeste had the good sense to stay out of the mess and just laugh.

The Grands and Max with the gingerbread house

Visit Santa
I'd heard the North Pole can be a nightmare.

But I tried to prepare.

In the past, we visited Santa during the week. This year, the weekend was our only option. I called and asked when Santa arrived. She told me noon. Guess what? We drove the 45 minutes and showed up at 11:30 to wait in line.  Then we were assigned a ticket to return at 1 to wait in line again. We found out the jolly old elf had been accepting visiors since 9 AM.

I almost made the naughty list.

We gave the kids a lunch of cookies. We waited patiently to play with remote control cars.

We camped out at the North Pole until our appointment.  Alexandra even kept a bow in her hair just for the big guy. She was extremely excited to see him....until she wasn't.

In all the chaos of the season,  I managed to get out a few Christmas cards. They looked something like this:

The Barnetts--Keeping the happy in the holidays!

 I'm not sure who I sent the cards, though. I had a list, but then I found another list after they were mailed.  I had some cards left over and can't figure out who I missed. And I may have sent some twice. So, friends, Merry Christmas. You may remember the Christmas Card Picture Debacle of 2011.  I vow to be more organized in 2013.

Oh, who am I kidding?

Cookies for Santa
Max has never seen the movie that made this pose famous. He was simply excited.

 He couldn't wait for the guy to come down the chimney.


Alexandra, on the other hand, was asleep before we set out the fudge and strawberry cookies.

Christmas Day
We hosted 34 family members on Christmas day.  Yes. You read that correctly.  It was a wonderful combination of family from all sides.

 

I made the dressing I mentioned here. The next day,  I found missing ingredients in the fridge *head thunk*... so I made another tastier batch.   Volunteers contributed to the meal. Because I crave organization and To make the drop-off easier, I even made name tags for everyone to place their food.  This was Garrett's idea of joke:

Throw a Snowball
The next day it snowed enough to delight a preschooler.

 
Happy New Year!
The four of us rang in 2013 with champagne and sparkling apple juice, silly hats and noisemakers...at 7:30 PM. 

I mean, really, it's lucky we lasted that long.

Halloween Pictures!

I made costumes for Halloween 2012. 

Scary.

I'm creative, not crafty. Big difference.

Max's robot was fun to make. No sewing. No glue. Just Christmas lights and ducktape and recycled materials. My mom spray painted the box. 

My kind of costume.

He carried a toolbox to hold his candy.

The real monster was making Alexandra's silver tutu.

Glitter covered every surface and made me realize why my mom was always so cranky around Halloween when I was a kid. All I did was tie glittered tulle to a ribbon, but I was so, so finished before the project was.

Having snacks at Max's preschool party. 

 

 

 Our little robots were so cute and had so much fun that it was worth the whole glittery mess.

Someone powered off our smallest robot just as we started trick or treating!

Papa's Birthday Made the Headlines! Black and White and Read All Over

 For as long as I can remember, my dad has loved to read newspapers. I mean LOVED it. The man will read all once a month, once a week, quarterly, or daily publications he can get his hands on. 
A lot of people can picture their dads in a recliner with a remote--well, I can picture that, too--but more prominent than that image is my dad sitting in a recliner with piles of newspapers around him. Even that newspaper smell of paper and ink reminds me of him.

imitating Papa

Our son is in the learning-to-tell-a-joke phase. Many (okay, most) of his original ones don't make sense and we try teach him some old standards. One came to mind and I had the perfect theme for my dad's birthday dinner:

What's black and white and read all over?

A newspaper! 

(insert wild four-year-old giggles here)

hunted red, black, and white tableware and used shredded newspaper to decorate. Instead of tissue paper poms, I made them out of newspaper.

 And since Papa likes newspapers so much, I invited a couple of famous newspaper journalists to the party.

Papa with his Lois Lane and Clark Kent

We had a "super" time.

Happy 4th of July Week to my Fellow Firecrackers!

The sizzle, screams, and splendor of fireworks are all part of Independence Day.

2012 was the first time the youngest generation of cousins picked out firecrackers and played with fire.

Perhaps it was a bad idea considering the variety of mishaps that occurred when my generation was sitting at the kids' table. Bottle rockets caught a field on fire. A string of Black Cats exploded in my brother's hand. My aunt "pantsed" her daughter because a sparkler caught her polyester pants on fire.

Sure, these things didn't happen when we were together. But with those experiences individually, what trouble might occur?

Time to make some memories!

We wore silly clothes.

Our ninety-one-year-old matriarch was thrilled to have her granddaughter and great-granddaughters visiting from Belgium and her grandson visiting from Virginia.  I'm sure she was happy we were there, too, but we now live down the street and around the corner so the novelty has worn off!

Don't we look festive?

We blew bubbles.

 We watched snakes "grow" and threw snappers.

We waved sparklers.

 

We made intelligent choices--like putting the bag of firecrackers on the baby stroller...

...and lighting a seemingly harmless train that blew smoke before miniature rocket launchers propelled it toward a gas grill's propane tank. Upon contact it rotated, shot sparks at the propane tank and sped beneath a parked automobile.

The gas tank immediately ignited.

 

I confess. That last part didn't happen for realsies. In my imagination it did, though. 

And it was a BIG fireworks display.


Hmmm. Maybe there's a reason fireworks are illegal in so many places.  Luckily, we all survived.

Hope your holidays were safe and continue to be throughout the weekend!