Total Adoration

....and you can see, the feeling's mutual.

Rockaway

Last weekend we went to Rockaway Beach to spend the weekend with Shane's family. Shane's dad Tim was the oldest of six children. He had eleven cousins, all from a single family. The family gathered to honor Tim's cousin Karl who passed away one year ago. Karl's three children were there, as were many of his sisters, his brother and their families. It was a family reunion, of sorts. For me, it was the first time I'd met many of them. There are just so stinkin' many of them. But, in this crowd you feel like an outsider for about ten seconds. After that, you're family. I see why Shane is so proud to be connected to his dad's family. The whole weekend was great, really special. On Sunday we gathered to honor Karl in words and the laying of his ashes to rest in the lake behind the house. It was beautiful.

After breakfast at the house on Saturday, the girls and I headed for the beach.

Brrrrrrr....

This family does happy hour(s).

Peytie has a snuggle with Aunt Susan. Note her latest obsession. Silly Bands.

Pictured here are two things my girls loved about the weekend. #1 is Lauren. #2, pea gravel. We need to get some pea gravel. And we could use a Lauren, too.

Moni left with some of the older kids to get wood for the fire. This is what they came back with. And they put on every last piece, turning the campfire into a bon fire. Our girls were awestruck. Last year, during the same weekend, I witnessed a Groshong male (not Shane) gleefully pouring gasoline, or some other liquid fuel, onto the fire. It turns out Shane's obsession with burning things and big fires is genetic.

The hearth under the wood stove.

Garret and Grunny take each other on one-on-one.

A beautiful tribute to Karl.

Libby and Lauren

Joel, Kelly, Susan and Baby Lucy

Matthew loves fishing. Loves it. He reminds me of someone.

Peyton takes in the lake.

Help!

Peyton (dancing in a panic):

"Mom! I have to go potty and I can't get off my necklace!"

I'm trying to remember at what age Libby realized she could use the potty without stripping totally naked.

Hey, Momma. Shut Your Mouth.

A strong filter I do not have.

The other day I was making a mental note of my calendar, and I realized it's August. AUGUST. You know what this means? For me, it's a countdown that leads me right into fall, and a loss of my glorious summer. I don't mean to be all doom and gloom, it just is what it is. And when fall comes, so does Libby's birthday. No, not right away. But eventually. And my baby's fifth birthday is staring my in the face and I'm trying to run backwards up a very steep slope while gaining forward momentum. How is she approaching five already?

And at the very moment it occurred to me, I blurted out, "Oh my gosh, Libby! You're going to be five soon!"

Mistake. She's been planning her birthday party since those very words escaped my lips. And it's all we talk about.

She's gathering every Pez dispenser to give as party favors. She's planning a treasure hunt. She's making gift bags and guest lists. She's vacillating between themes and working on a menu. She's even invited people already. Oh my gosh. And she's driving me crazy.

So today, while she was deciding that it would be best to give her guests a choice between hot dogs or pizza and salad. I sat down on the floor with her and had a heart to heart.

It went something like this: "Babe, hey. You know, sometimes I cannot believe how fast you're growing. I swear I just held you as an infant and you could do nothing but eat and sleep. You were just a little lump. But, here's the deal.... The other day I had a little panic at the fact that you're almost five. But your birthday is still over three months away. Not tomorrow. More like in a hundred tomorrows. So, maybe we can set aside the party planning and take it up again in a few months, k?"

She was crushed. She let me hold her while she cried, and soon she was on to something else. I've heard mention of her party once today, but nothing like before. This isn't the first time I've had to apologize for my mouth. I'm sure it won't be the last.

The Best of Blue River

I've got t-minus less-than-three-weeks left of summer and lots of pics to post and recap. So this is just a quick highlight of our Blue River weekend....

A lotta love between sisters. Sometimes. I have proof.

This is what Grunny did the whole weekend.

The girls comfort in the water has exploded this summer. Peyton just jumped in and started swimming for the boat. Uh....bye.

Girl Power! This is only seven of the eleven. And there were exactly zero boys.

Our girls and Kolbi watch the bridge jumpers from down in the water.

Kendal (5!) contemplates a jump....

....and then she jumped!

This picture is titled "Three wedgies sleeping in a boat".

Maddie finds her inner surfer. We did this too and I'm happy to say I got up on the first try, but the proof would require me to put a picture on the internet of me in a swim suit. And given that I just had a baby.....well. I know she's three. Hush. My thighs feel like it was just yesterday.

I love this picture. The girls woke up and wanted to swim before breakfast. And they could, so they did. Mine is the blue chair. See my coffee on the log? And Shane delivered my breakfast straight from the big pan. I could wake up this way every morning. On a cold, dark, rainy, January morning just before the bell rings, I'm going to look at this picture and imagine sunshine. Or maybe it'll just make me cry. Either way....

Grunny swam so much he broke his rudder. That is, his tail comes out of joint, or something like that. See how it hangs straight down?

Nelson and Valerie take in the lake over coffee.

The best breakfast seat in the house.

Nelson

Hey. Cancer. You don't know who you're messin' with....

Just so you know, I texted her today and asked this question: Can I blog about you, or is it still too early to make this all about me? I got the green light with the caveat that I make her look hot, and rally players and prayers for TEAM BEBO. I'm on it.

Becky, a.k.a. Bebo, one of my nearest and dearest friends on the planet, told me this week that she was having a lump in her breast looked at. My text that followed was, (and I quote) "Keep me posted when you get the "all clear" from your doc. And by doc, I don't mean Groshong, though I know he'd be willing to take a look."

And then........

The call that came yesterday wasn't of the "all clear" variety. Rather, a stage two lump in her breast. U.G.H.

I actually have better words to describe the feeling that came over me, but in the event that any of my students, or their families should ever happen upon my little corner of the internet, well....I sorta need my job.

I hate cancer. Hate it. Admittedly too, I've become a little complacent about it since my mom kicked its ass in 2007. Complacency is a luxury no cancer survivor has. I don't forward the emails. I don't post about it on facebook. I do the Heaven Can Wait Walk, but suddenly that doesn't seem to be enough. With this week's news, though, this ugly, yet familiar enemy has picked a fight with another loved one of mine. So I have this to say to you, cancer....

DO

YOU

EVEN

KNOW

WHO

YOU'RE

MESSIN'

WITH?

You are messing with my friend who always has the right words to say.

Who, by her nature, puts all others before herself and seems happiest doing so.

My friend who did this on my birthday, and this for Peyton's birthday.

Who laughed and cried with me through the birth of my second child, and only missed my first because I was out of town.

My friend who watches all of the Harry Potter movies with me.

My friend who takes better care of my own dog than I do.

My friend who, even as I'm typing this, just sent me a text which included the words, "juggles, jiggles, boobies, cookies" and is making me laugh one day after her diagnosis.

My friend who loves school supply shopping, sharpened pencils and the smell of new crayons.

My friend who's already laughing about her medical marijuana card, but might not be kidding.

My friend who loves my kids almost as much as they adore her.

My friend who loves my cheesy potatoes even though I can't cook.

My friend who sees to it that I get my roots done.

My friend who sat with with me as we lost our beloved Bruiser, and who was the last person to spark a wag of his tail.

My friend who is a lover and a fighter.

So cancer, watch yourself. You're gonna lose this battle and she'll embarrass you as she takes you down. She isn't only my friend. She's a wife, daughter, sister, aunt, entrepeneur, leader, encourager and nurturer. And though I've always known she's a fighter, you ain't seen nothin' yet.

P.S. I baked tonight.

School Girl

I'll go back to school this month, but let's not talk about that yet. This is a look back at the month of June at Libby's preschool graduation. She didn't graduate, but her class sang some songs and it was stinkin' cute....

Sitting with her classmates while the older kids graduate.

Posing with her classmates. So grown up.

Yesterday I said to her, "Libby, you know what we'll be doing a year from now? Getting ready for kindergarten."

And she replied, "Mom! I don't have any school supplies!" I guess it never hurts to look ahead.