Strawberry Island

Discouraged. 

I've felt discouraged before, but until yesterday, I had never experienced discouragement in its purest form. 

Chip was post-call yesterday, the kids were in child care, and I, having not started work yet, was at home.  We wanted to take "advantage" of being child-free, so Chip and I decided to have one last hurrah before I start work. 

We loaded up the kayaks and headed down to the marina with the intentions of paddling over to Strawberry Island.  In my mind I pictured our kayaking adventure to be quite leisurely, and after disembarking, we'd spend a nice quiet afternoon basking in the sun. 

After we arrived at the marina it dawned on us what an incredibly windy day it was.  The water was very choppy, choppier than anything I'd ever kayaked in.  I kept telling Chip, "I trust you!  I just don't know if this is a good idea being that it is so windy."  I followed that up with a silent prayer, "Lord, you know we are crazy.  Please keep us safe."

Talk about fast water!  Once we entered the current, we were quickly carried downstream, and we almost missed our island target.  I admit I did stop to answer my cell phone out in the middle of the water (I thought it was the child care center calling).  It was my mom [Hey, Mama!].  Although it was very nice to hear her voice, I became quite discouraged as to how far I had floated downstream while on the phone.  I panicked, redirected myself, and paddled like crazy against the current.

I thought it was hard getting to the island, and I didn't know how in the world we were going to paddle upstream against the current and against the near-gale winds.  I tried not to think about it, and we spent the next couple of hours fishing and relaxing.

While relaxing on the beach, I kept staring at the ominous place at which I knew we had to paddle back toward.  It didn't look that far, but I knew it would take a miracle to get us back there.  I took a picture of the marina; you can barely make it out in this photo, but it is located right in front of that distant building. 

Because it was the kids' first day in child care, I was especially anxious to pick them up on time.  I didn't know how long it would take us to get back to the Jeep, but I allowed us at least an hour.  We packed up and left the island at 3:10. 

At first things went really well.  "Hey, this current isn't so bad," I thought.  I kept looking to the right and watching all the buildings I was passing so that I could keep track of my progress. 

Then I saw it.  I called it the Americana building because it was painted red, white, and blue.  For the life of me, I could not get past that American building.  Chip noticed that I was struggling, so he shouted, "Head toward that green buoy!"  I took heed and noticed that it did get easier to paddle now that I had redirected myself. 

The green buoy got closer and closer and closer and then I finally reached it.  But to my dismay, the stinking Americana building was STILL in the same spot.  In other words, I was making progress, just not in the direction in which I needed to be making progress.  I looked to my right (the direction of the marina), and I noticed that the marina was even further away.

We finally reached a stone wall and headed our kayaks toward the marina.  I was thankful that I didn't have to look at that Americana building anymore. 

Wow.  I had no idea how difficult going against the current and the wind would be.  There were literally times when I was paddling but going NOWHERE. 

Enter discouragement. 

I cannot tell you how many times I looked at that stone wall to my left and screamed to Chip, "I'm gonna climb up that wall!  This is not fun!"  He just laughed and came paddling by me at like 100 mph (or would it be knots per hour?)  with a silly grin on his face.  Stinker.

Suffice it to say that we did make it back to the Jeep.  We arrived at 3:45.  It only took 35 minutes to get back.  Incredible.  Thank you, Lord. 

Strawberry Island.  I went.  I saw.  I won't be back. 

First Day Jitters

Well, I did it.  I think I did it pretty well.  No tears.  Not yet.

The day started with me greeting Abigail with a cheerful, "Good morning, my beautiful preschooler!"  She was all smiles.  I must have heard her say, "I can't wait to go to school!" a dozen times this morning. 

Abby reminds me so much of myself - it would be flattering, but knowing me, it is really kind of scary.  She wouldn't eat any breakfast this morning.  I was the same way as a child; I couldn't eat anything in the morning because it made my stomach hurt.  She kept saying, "I'll eat at school."  She did agree to pose with her backpack for me though.

Of course I had to take a picture of William to commemorate his first day at daycare!  He was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

I found myself driving more slowly than usual down Main Street.  I knew the inevitable drop-off was coming.  Thoughts like "Will they cry?" "Will they like their teachers?" "Am I doing the right thing by going back to work?"  and "Can I really do this?" ran through my head.  Just about the time I was starting to convince myself that my children would be fine, we pulled into the school's parking lot.  Abby was really excited!  I was really apprehensive!

We took William to his room first.  I set his things down in his crib and plopped him on the floor.  I could tell he was ready to explore (and tear things up!).  This is how I left him:

 

We then went to Abby's classroom.  Her teacher had just arrived, and she explained that the kids hang out in the room next door and have breakfast with their friends, and then she comes to get the children once she's ready.  Abby was not happy with the news that she'd have to leave her classroom.  She kept saying, "I don't want breakfast!  I want to stay here!"  We hung Abby's backpack on her hanger, and I managed to get a picture of the not-so-happy preschooler:

 

I finally got Abby to the room next door, but I couldn't convince her to eat anything.  I must have left the excited preschooler in the car because now all I saw was this little girl clinging to her Mama saying I don't want to stay!  So hard.  I knew how she felt.  I know her behavior is totally normal, but I can't help but think she has a small dose of my anxiety.  I PRAY she outgrows any anxiety she might have!  Bless her heart.

The teacher in the room told Abby that she has a "waving window."  I said, "Okay, Abby.  I'm gonna go outside and wave goodbye to you!"  I hugged her and almost ran out of the room.  I wasn't sure what kind of girl I'd see at the window.  

Thankfully, she was all smiles.  

We waved and waved to each other. 

I can't wait to wave hello to her this afternoon.   

School Daze

I cannot believe my baby girl is starting preschool.  It seems like only yesterday she was as small as William is now.  My little girl is growing up.  *sniff, sniff*

Next Tuesday Abby and William will start attending their child care/preschool.  I met with the center's director on Tuesday, and I went back with the kids today.  Abby really, really enjoyed herself.  She got to meet her teacher, Miss Tina, and she even made new friends!  It was so cool seeing all the little girls flock to Abby.  They had to check out the new girl.  So sweet. 

I had a hard time getting Abby to come home with me.  She had a great time playing out on the playground.  After enticing her back in the building, we checked out her classroom.  Her eyes were wide with wonderment.  The first thing she noticed was the fish bowl!  She loves fish.  I'm sure feeding the fish will be one of the duties the kids will take turns doing.  How fun.

William had a good time, too.  He enjoyed watching all the big kids play on the playground.  The babies have their own outdoor play space; it's grassy unlike the big kids' space.  William also enjoyed meeting his teacher, Miss Denise.   I'm sure he'll be making friends of his own, too.  :)

This program is quite expensive, but I know it's where the kids are supposed to be.  It was my prayer that God close all doors except one.  Well, with every phone call I made, it was clear that God shut many doors.  I even called a place and left a message.  I never heard back.  Thankfully, my decision was very clear cut.  And I'm confident in the decision.

In addition to outdoor play time, the kids learn Spanish, computers, karate, music, math, and science.  Throughout the year the kids will go on field trips, have pony rides, have a petting zoo visit, and have important community people visit.  And I get to participate in all of this via a live web-cam! 

It's hard letting go.  I don't think the reality has set in just yet.  I will definitely miss all those hair-pulling, stressed-beyond-words moments.  Maybe.  Just maybe.  Maybe not. 

Enjoy "school," Little Miss Abigail.  And bootsie-boo, enjoy your day filled with singin' and swingin' and playin'.  Mama loves you both. 

Damage Control

There is a commercial that warns of the damage cigarettes cause.  They are very graphic, showing severely damaged eyeballs and aortas clogged with goop.  Each time Abby sees these commercials she shouts, "Damage!"  Now each time she sees a person smoking she shouts, "Mommy, that person is smoking damage!"  It can be quite embarrassing, especially if she points while shouting. 

On Friday we took Jay and Lauren downtown to see Buffalo's waterfront.  We were enjoying the "civilized" weather when all of a sudden our peaceful walk was interrupted by shouts of "Damage!  There's damage!"  Apparently there was damage every two feet or so.  Abby insisted on pointing and shouting at every cigarette she saw on the ground. 

Here are a couple of pictures of my very own damage police.  Notice her scowl and pointed toe stomping the damage:

After pointing out all the damage, Abby cooled off with a push-up, which she later admitted to being her favorite part of the day. 

Welcome to Buffalo!

We were very excited to welcome Jay and his soon-to-be wife, Lauren, to our home last week. They arrived on Thursday, and Abby, William, and I met them at the airport. Abby was SO excited to see them - she even had a sign, which she excitedly held upside down. The week went by too quickly... Here are a few pictures we snapped along the way:

Check, please.

One of my dreams is to own a restaurant with Chip. I'd love to serve up some of my Grannys' chocolate syrup and biscuits and runnin' butter beans and cream-style corn (not all together, mind you). Chip's forte is BBQ and steaks and fish and pasta and, well, I guess everything is his forte.

Truth be known I do enjoy cooking, but my passion is baking. Since it would be nutritiously unethical to feed my family pastries for dinner, I decided I needed to expand my cooking repertoire.

Thankfully my mom gave me a cookbook filled with family favorites, but even with this resource I find myself falling back on a select few recipes: meatloaf, pasta/meat casserole, peach cobbler, etc. To prevent my family from refusing to eat the same meals every week, I subscribed to a food magazine in order to expand my cooking horizon.

The magazine proved helpful time and time again.

Last Sunday I plopped myself down, sipped on some tea, and thumbed through the latest edition of the magazine. The pantry was bare, and I needed to make my grocery list. I settled on some good looking recipes. One of the recipes that caught my eye was "pico de gallo." The helpful editors paired the pico de gallo picture with a picture of baked plantain chips. Just in case there was any doubt as to what you should serve the pico with, there was a helpful hint that said, "Serve with baked plantain chips."

Hey, I liked how the recipe looked, and I liked that the editor took the guess work out for me by suggesting a side dish (plantains).

*Just for your information, I'm sure many of you know what pico de gallo is. I had never heard of it before. It looked good, so I thought I'd give it a try. I assumed it was some sort of tomato-y entree. But I digress.*

Last night I decided to whip up some of that good looking pico de gallo and baked plantain chips. We were especially hungry, and I didn't want to wait the required half hour it would take to bake the plantains. I decided to fry them instead.

All the while I'm chopping up the veggies for the pico de gallo, I'm thinking, "Man, this sure doesn't look very hearty." I kept chopping, and then I started fryin' up the plantains. I was fully aware that the plantains would fry up like French fries because I've fixed them like that before.

Once the food is done I get each of us a bowl for the pico de gallo, and I get us each a small plate for our plantains and ketchup. After I sit down, I realize how odd our meal looks: a bowl of diced tomatoes, onion, and jalepeno on one side and a dish of plantains and ketchup on the other.

Chip kept commenting on how good everything tasted. I agreed. After a few minutes of quiet, Chip said, "Honey, I think this is some kind of salsa that's supposed to be served with plantain chips."

How on earth did I not realize pico de gallo was salsa? Talk about feeling inadequate, in terms of my culinary knowledge. I just laughed.

Salsa and French fries for dinner. Awesome. Maybe tonight we'll have saltine crackers and ice cream.

Progressively Shocking

Chip and I found that the best way to maximize our dates is to have a progressive dinner. Instead of having dinner at one place and then wondering what in the world we were going to do with the rest of our time (not that we couldn't be creative...), we decided to go to different places for each course. One of the oddest meals we've ever had was due to this plan: appetizers - sushi; entree - Wegman's supermarket cafe; dessert - Cheesecake Factory. Weird? Yes. Fun? Absolutely.

We went on a date last Friday night, and in keeping with our newly established progressive-dinner trend, we decided that we would have dinner at a barbeque restaurant, walk around the mall, and then end the date with dessert.

After gobbling (quite literally) our dinner, we rode around and then decided to walk the mall. We found ourselves wandering aimlessly through the stores, which is such a pleasure considering we can't normally do that with the kids in tow.

Of course we wound up in the Mac store. It's hard to resist the brighter-than-the-sun fluorescent lights. Wait, what? That's not the reason people go in there? Oh yeah. Must be all those gadgets they have. Chip would really like an iPad. I'd really like a stand mixer.

We perused several other stores, but the time to decide on dessert was drawing close. There really wasn't much debate over where we should go.

Surprisingly there was no wait at the Melting Pot. We told the hostess we were only there for dessert, so she seated us and gave us our menus. The waiter took our drink order. Chip wowed me by ordering a bottle of wine (although I told him I'd have been happy with a TALL glass of milk). We decided against our usual dessert choice and went instead with the "flaming turtle." The waiter assured us that was his favorite. Sure.

Chip poured us each a glass of wine and we eagerly awaited our flaming chocolate. I'm not sure what happened - maybe the wine was extra effective or maybe our giggle boxes were turned over - but Chip and I just started acting silly, and I mean SILLY. There was just something about the dark booth and wine that made it seem like no one could see us.

I'm sure we broke a rule or two when Chip decided to turn up the heat on our burner. The chocolate wasn't as hot as we would have liked, so Chip took it upon himself to kick up the heat. I just knew our waiter was going to catch Chip fumbling around under the table. Soon after the chocolate was bubbling, much laughter ensued.

It all started with the music. It was strange, strange music. I commented to Chip that it sounded like electricity, as if someone was being shocked. That's all it took for Chip to start acting like he was being electrocuted. I mean, he was acting full-out electrocuted. Then I started in with the acting. We took turns shaking violently, laughing, eating chocolate covered stuff, and then shaking violently again. We were having ourselves a good ol' time.

Not long after the "electric" song went off, a man in a suit came to our table.

"How is everything tonight?" he asked.

I replied, matter-of-factly, "Oh, it's wonderful as usual."

"That's great," he said. "I'm the manager and I just wanted to stop by."

The manager had no sooner stepped away than Chip said, "I bet he was making sure we were okay. I imagine he saw us acting crazy on the hidden camera."

I almost spit the wine out of my mouth. I almost... well, I laughed really, really hard - harder than I've laughed in a long time. Just the idea of someone witnessing our electrifying dance was hysterical to me.

We laughed and laughed (and I'm still laughing). That was such a good night.

I can't wait 'til our next date. Shocking, I know.