Hostess with the Leastest

When you only get "the works" birthday party every other year, it gives you a long time to plan. Holt had been looking forward to his "Bounce and Beans" party for close to two years.

We invited his entire Scout troop and Sam's sisters (and Holt's too!). For me, this might have been the Greatest Birthday Party Ever. Here's why: Other than Sam's family and my brother and Lora, I didn't know any of these people at all. Nary a one.

Let me point out that Scouts is the One Thing I don't have to keep up with (other than the shirts and patches and belts I tend to lose). I do want to know his friends and be involved in his life, I just haven't yet had opportunity to enmesh with the Scout pack. It's a fairly new phenomenon in our lives.

Here are the details of my involvement:

I ordered a cake.
I picked up said cake.
I called my brother and told him to show up.
I bought candles and ice cream.
I wrote out invitations.
I took pictures.
I bought Holt thank you notes.

Here are all the things I didn't do:

I didn't clean my house.
I didn't hostess. (Really. I didn't even try to meet and greet at the party. It was all 8 year old boys and dads.)
I didn't write down a gift list.
I didn't ensure the good time of all. (Again, don't know 'em.).
I didn't assemble goody bags. (Party foul! I know!)

Holt and a bunch of boys I couldn't name with a cheat sheet had a bouncing good time. There were pileups a plenty, eight year old boy style. I really thought there would be a broken bone involved before the goody bags were distri- Oh, wait. Never mind.




I went. I watched my boy turn eight. I enjoyed him, just him. I got to just soak in his pleasure without worrying about all the social niceties that parties usually entail. For once, I just stood back and watched Birch work his magic. There's something to be said for parties you throw for people you don't know.

I think this party will serve as a precedent for future celebrations. This was one birthday I didn't miss because I wasn't chatting up the room. Enjoy more. Stress less.

Happy Birthday, Holt. It was the least I could do.

Every other year my kids get a "bells and whistles" birthday party. This was Holt's year. But since we couldn't reserve Holt's venue of choice until the week after his actual birthday and that is a long time to wait when you're 8 years old and there's wrapped gifts hanging out in the kitchen, we had a little family lunch at Fuddruckers on the 12th, his actual birthday.

His "ta-da!" present from us this year was a new bike that we gave to him the month prior so he could enjoy it during the blessed temperatures of fall. We took his gifts from his grandparents and his sisters.

We crowded into the Elvis Presley booth (our fav), gorged upon burgers, fries, and a mixture of carbonated drinks (the "Suicide" drink of my youth prevails still).


I love birthday memories like these, just us and no fuss. And were it not for this day 8 years ago, I would never have played with legos or bakugans, I wouldn't be able to talk like Yoda, and I wouldn't appreciate the humor of a good toot joke.


Eight years from the day we thought we'd lose him in the delivery room, he was sandwiched between his sisters, laughing hysterically over his new stuffed opossum. God has blessed me rich.

Breaking the Rules

I'm not allowed to post pictures of our Baby Z in a public online site. BUT...this is one of my favorites, and I dare you to find any distinguishing features, minus that sweet pink baby mouth.

This boy loves his thumb. This mama loves that boy.

To Infinity and Beyond

Holt's science teacher at Timothy organized a field trip to the U.S. Space and Rocket Center in Huntsville that incorporated a realm of experiences for the kids (and us!). We drove there on a Tuesday late in November in torrential rain.

When we arrived, we met with our group and broke into age groups (since we're homeschoolers, the museum had planned for all the different aged siblings as well). We decided we'd rather stay together as a family, so we chose to go with the 1st and 2nd graders.

We were first treated to a tour of the main museum. I'm about to reveal all my ignorance as I describe it. I should've taken notes, or at least chosen to blog sooner than three months later.


We got the history of all the different NASA projects, the moon buggy, the Mercury Project, and the showcase of our nation's space timeline. My favorite, though, was the quarantine trailer where astronauts stayed upon their reentry. Looking through the window, you could almost see them there beside the Scrabble set sitting at the table. Being claustrophobic, I think this might have been worse for me than hurtling through Earth's atmosphere.

He looks awfully tough for a man carrying a little pink coat.

After this tour, we were plunged into the 3D IMAX experience and watched the story unfold of the Hubble telescope.

Then Holt and Carolina were treated to a lab with a USSARC staff member. They created their own moon buggies powered with air from a balloon. It concluded with a race down the hallway.



Lunch was provided followed by a tour of some of the larger machinery outside.


Probably my favorite part of the day was the demo/explanation of the space station, mostly because Holt was chosen for part of the demo. Here he is modelling refueling at the international space station.

The rest of the day was spent enjoying some of the hands-on exhibits, like Holt landing the space shuttle on a simulator.

And then, of course, there's always the gratuitous cute factor.

And I loved Birch explaining to Holt the projects that Pop was involved with during his time at NASA. That put a personal "real" spin on it for him.

Hands down, the best school field trip ever.

Blessings

What an unbelievable joy to have a baby in the house for Thanksgiving this year! If we (God willing) get to adopt our Baby Z, I will spend days restoring his sweet face into all our blog posts. I will be able to color our family memories fully with all the crayons in our box.

The pictures I'd love to show here would include my dad feeding Z on the couch, Z dressed in his finest Volunteer apparel (What? It's orange, a fall color). They would include Z being passed around like the Thanksgiving turkey.

But what I can show are memories like both my girls helping me for days prior in the kitchen, including the one (ironically named Bird) who doesn't like Thanksgiving dinner.


They include Juliana organizing and labelling our buffet spread.

And Walter helping (i.e. "begging") Gramma in the kitchen. What this doesn't show, however, is Mom illegally supplying him with turkey.

Mostly, I am thankful to live in a house filled with love with people who bring me joy.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. (James 1:17)

The Great Outdoors

In late October we recreated one of our favorite family vacations and took the kids to Spruce Pine and Tweetsie Railroad. Tweetsie was actually Birch's all-time best vacation memory as a child (although, in truth, it was competing against a lot of cemetery treks through chigger infested woods that were only registered on local maps).

About 3 years ago, we also rented an RV that is stationary on the side of a mountain in Bear Den Campground in Spruce Pine. It's all the benefits of an RV without having to drive and fuel one. The RV has two bedrooms, a "living" area, and a bathroom, complete with shower. There is a picnic table, playgrounds, lakes, all the woods you want to explore in, and a lot of friendly campers close by. This year we printed off directions from the website instead of using the GPS. That's a harrowing story Birch would rather tell in person.

Most of the time the kids spent in their "fort" in the woods. Holt was especially fond of the fallen tree, and even more fond of climbing as high as he could and flinging himself onto Birch. That oughtta really benefit Birch's chiropractor.










There were also several picnic lunches carted outside into the fort. Somehow a turkey sandwich always tastes better when it's possibly in jeopardy from an army of ants.
But truly the part my kids would probably agree to enjoying most was just the RV itself. With so little space, it's amazing all the tiny parts that go into making this a home. Every possible inch of the interior serves some purpose. I'm guessing it's much like a NYC apartment.

You really get an appreciation for how small the set-up is when three of you get food poisoning from some hamburger meat from Kroger. Lucky for you, there are no pictures to follow.

Holt and Carolina shared one room, and Juliana got the futon in the middle section, leaving Birch, Z, and me to the other tiny bedroom. You could blow a spitball from one end, and ping it on the head of the person in the bed on the opposite end. Not that I know this from actual experience.

I wish I had thought to get pictures of the kids inside. Next time.

We stayed at Spruce Pine for three nights, and on the second day had a trip planned to Tweetsie Railroad. If you've never been to Tweetsie, think Silver Dollar City (are you old enough to remember that?) in the mountains of North Carolina. It's built around the history of the first coal train. The train circles the mountain, and when you take the ride, your train is stopped by a bunch of thieving indians, complete with gunfire, explosives, and outhouses (let your imagination run wild).







When we woke up on that morning it was cold. Not just cold, bitter. We seriously considered cancelling, but decided to go, even if we only lasted an hour. We made layering an art form. The kids looked like marshmallows. And I'd like to say that as the day wore on, it warmed up, but that would just be me rewriting our vacation.

I will say that we had so much fun, it was bearable.

There were also rides galore, although the only takers with me are Holt and Mouse, and count Mouse out if snacks are involved. Holt loved the thing that spins you around (I'm sure it has some much more elaborate name that that) and Mouse is always the lover of the ferris wheel. Juliana drove the car with Mouser, and checked off that box for the day.



We ended our time touring the jail and the country store, eating funnel cake (always in season!) and riding atop some horses and in the back of some covered wagons.







Although our day at Tweetsie was full of mental snapshots I'll treasure for years, the whole day my mind kept recreating the moments of the trip there. We realized on our way that my brakes were shot. Going-into-the-rotors shot. Our trip back to Spruce Pine was DOWN the mountain. There was prayer involved. I suggested a taxi.

The next day, Birch had to drive further DOWN the mountain to try to find somewhere to get it fixed before we completely descended as a family at the end of our stay. He (thank you, Jesus!) found the ONE pop-owned "in his garage" shop that was open on a Saturday. The fellow was already working on someone's brakes and told Birch he could maybe get to it Monday. He asked Birch if he was local. Birch asked him what the correct answer was. The lady who owned the aforementioned car piped up and offered to let Birch step in ahead of her.

Amazingly, Birch was back within a few hours with new brakes and a fairly smallish hole in our checking account. There's something to be said for small town God-fearing people who still exist and don't completely take advantage of a situation that is completely fair game. Chalk that up to another great memory of our vacation.

The next evening we (and by "we" I mean the kids) changed into Halloween costumes and went trick-or-treating to all the campsites. It was a new spin on Halloween. Kicks regular neighborhood festivities in the puptent.

We talked our vacation up so much that next time, Gramma and Big may come along. We may do cabins close by, or possibly two RVs. Depends on how adventurous Gramma feels. She surprises me sometimes.

And I've decided that if "camping" involves running water, heat, (for goodness sake, we even had satellite tv), and music piped through CD speakers, well... I'm outdoorsy! Who knew?