Its not because she's not around

I realized I haven't posted any pictures of Pearl since May. What a terrible third child cliche I have fulfilled. She is with us through all our adventures, but usually strapped to my back so she stays out of trouble and from shoveling dirt and rocks in her mouth. When I went to find some to post, I sadly realized she is severely under photographed compared to her older siblings. I have to remedy this because she is so cute and makes our family light up when she's around.

She looks very, very similar to Louis at this age. You can definitely see the similarities in the picture below (along with some of Dane and Ty's weird picture faces. I have a lot of those pics from Alaska. Must post a ton to embaress them soon).Pearl loves, loves, loves water and she loves to be outside. If we open a door she tries to crawl threw or under the screen door. And she knows how to slide open the back screen door. One day on the way to swim lessons she disappeared and I couldn't find her in the house. I found her in the back in a large mudpuddle, playing happily in the rain. We have to keep that back door shut now!
We had a really great trip to Alaska in September for almost three weeks. It was so great to have all our family meet Pearl and entertain her. She was pretty easy going, but for some reason she was worried when my Grandpie Oberg would hold her. I still love the picture.
Raspberry picking with her cousin Kade. These two didn't really like each other all that much. Kade would get pretty jealous if his Grandpa Kenley would give her any attention when he was around. That's her closest cousin in age, so I guess they'd better work things out!

Bounced herself out at home.

People tell me all the time I'm going to miss these days with little kids running around. Some days are crazy, but I know that they are totally right. There is something so magical and happy about little kid kisses, loves and vocabulary. And having a baby in the house is one of the happiest things I've ever known. We're glad we've got this one.

An Education

When I hear my young nieces, nephews, and now even my own children singing Justin Beiber, it makes me think….. I would have never, ever heard this song or any pop song like it! Up until the 5th grade the only things I ever listened to was Dr. Laura, NPR and Raffi- all controlled my Mom’s radio dial and the three cassette tapes we owned at home. And frankly, since I didn’t realize what I was missing, I was perfectly happy. Sure, there was the occasional inkling at school that the music I was listening to wasn’t known to the rest of the elementary school world, but not enough to really concern me. When my Mom brought home three new cassettes from a hot new children’s artist named Joe Scruggs in the 4th grade, I sincerely thought I was moving up in the world.

In the 5th grade my naive bubble was burst. I suddenly realized that everyone was listening to pop and rock music on the radio, and I did not know a single song they were singing or playing. I faked it, but knew it had to be remedied. However, my options were limited. Mom and Dad forbade me to control the radio in the main room or the car and I didn’t have a boom box of my own. I had to go renegade to get some real music into my life.

Enter the Alaska State Fair, which started just prior to the beginning of my sixth grade year. I was desperate to musically educate myself before school started and my coolness level would plunge without any knowledge to contribute about popular songs. That year at the fair the local pop radio station, 101.3 had a booth just outside of the barn. This was significant because my nerdy 4-H/FFA self practically lived in that barn the 10 days of the fair showing animals and such. It was easy to slip away out the front of the barn and listen to the songs, hear the DJs announce who was singing what, what was hot etc. It was an answer to my fervent little prayers. I was out there as often as I could slip away unnoticed to bathe myself in the forbidden sounds of pop rock.

Another draw to 101.3 booth was the ‘money booth’ they ran three times a day. At 11am, 3pm and 6pm they would fill a telephone booth structure full of loose paper bills (mostly $1s, but a few $5, 10 and 20 dollar bills were in there too). They would draw three names out of a hat and those lucky fools would get to go into the money booth for 30 seconds and grab as much money as they could and shove it through these tiny little holes in the side. To complicate things, they turned on these industrial strength fans to blow the money like a typhoon so the bills were super hard to catch. It was awesome. I faithfully watched the money booth and inwardly ridiculed those who could only catch a few bills due to their lack of skill and strategy. I had watched enough to know exactly what I would do.

For some reason I never thought to put my name in the pot, even though I was usually there for at least two times a day. I thought my Mom would be furious if she found out I went in a money booth to make a fool of myself (she likely wouldn’t have been) and I also just never thought I would be lucky enough to be choosen. But on the Friday before the fair ended, my life changed forever.

I showed up at the booth at 11am, right in between my sheep and goat shows. It was a little risky in terms of timing- I could kind of hear the loud speakers behind me when the judge announced the winners, and I figured I had another 15-20 minutes before it was time for me to get my sheep and enter the ring. But I was cutting it a little close and running a slight risk of my Mom having to hunt me down if I wasn’t careful.

The moment I arrived at the booth that morning the thought hit me “I am going to be in that money booth this morning”. My logical self told me I was crazy, there were literally a hundred people at each draw and it was just wishful thinking, but I somehow found myself at the front of the line, entering my name into the drawing as they made a last call for entrants.

They drew the first name. Some old dude that had terrible form and strategy. He got like $10 bucks and a slip of paper that I suddenly realized was for a cassette tape they were given away. Say WHAT!!!! A cassette tape of pop music? My heart started pounding. This could be my chance to actually own a real pop music CD? The second name was called. Some teenage boy that was slightly better than the old guy and really put his heart into it, but still only pulled out $27 and no slip for a free cassette.

Right then I heard the judge starting to announce the winners to the show just before mine. I had no idea how long he would take and figured I should get heading back to get ready to go in the ring. I got ready to get up and go when that thought came back- “You are going to be in the money booth- don’t leave!” I reluctantly sat back down, knowing I was kidding myself, but just had to hear the last name they drew to reassure myself.

And out came…… Melissa Kenley. Seriously, I almost peed my pants. My palms were sweating and I was trembling as my 11 year old self walked to the front of the crowd. I had on my show clothes- jeans, a Western shirt and cowboy boots- I must have looked hilarious to the trendy crowd, but I was about to give them the show of their life. I had watched the money booth over 25 times by that day and had figured out every trick in the book.

I sat in the booth and closed my eyes as they counted down. I repeated my desperate mantra ‘I will get a cassette, I will get a cassette’ over and over in my head and then the bell sounded. I slammed my back against the closest fan to break the wind and watched the bills settle at my feet. I frantically gathered as many as I could into the front of my shirt by holding it out and forming a pocket until I couldn’t hold any more. I then carefully moved to the open slit in the wall that was just my height. I jammed those bills in so fast and hard I made my knuckles bleed. I was so efficient and fast that I even had time to do another haul from the floor and get most of it in before the buzzer blew. I was money-grabbing poetry in motion.

I exited triumphant, but trembling. I still didn’t know if a little paper with a cassette name in it had made it through my pile.

They counted the money. $89!!!!! I was the record holder! And then, from the pile of rubble a small, white piece of paper. They handed me the appropriate cassette and the crowd went wild.

I shoved my booty in the plastic bag they gave me and RAN into the barn. Sure enough, my show was entering the ring and my Mom was holding my sheep, scanning the crowds for me with that look of I-am-going-to-kill-my-daughter-with-my-own-two-hands look, but the bag in my hands took all the fear away. I gleefully shoved the huge bag down my shirt (how was I going to explain almost $90 dollars in small bills and an evil pop rock tape to my Mom- but seriously how did she not notice a bag the size of small baby in the front of my shirt?), grabbed my sheep Alex and ran into the ring just before they closed the door.

I had to wait until late that night when I was home and alone before examining my first real album. It was Bonnie Raitt. Sadly, I was still so uneducated I didn’t even know that she wasn’t cool for a sixth grader and I spent the next two weeks memorizing every lyric to every song on the album. I was sorely disappointed to realize that no one knew who I was talking about, but to be honest, I still sing ‘Let’s Give ‘Em Something to Talk About’ to myself quite often, and it became somewhat of an internal anthem [though an out of context one to be sure] for several of my high school escapades. I still have a soft spot in my heart for good old Bonnie and my first real album.

Thankfully, my younger, much more pop savvy sister Lori asked for a boom box for Christmas and surprisingly got it. Then we spent Sunday evenings trying to slip away from family events and listen to Casey’s Top Forty, and as we got even older, trying to record songs from the radio onto a cassette. That took some major skill, timing and patience, but that is how I finally mastered the lyrics to ‘Look Away, Baby, Look Away’ in the 7thth grade. I finally, finally, had something real to talk about.

Endless Summer

Part of learning to live here in Hawaii is adjusting to the feeling of endless summer. I am a seasons girl, born and raised. Particularly in Alaska, where the summer is glorious, but very short, you learn to take EVERY sunny day and use it to its full advantage. You stay outside all day long and work or play (or combination of both). You feel guilty if you even take part of a sunny day to clean your dirty house or go someplace like the library when you can be outside soaking in that glorious sun.

The same somewhat applies in MA and UT, the other two places I've spent summers in. Though the summers are longer and hotter and you don't have to have the exact same maniac pace as you do to enjoy Alaskan summers, you do want to be outside a lot and soak in all the sun before it is replaced with blustering winds and mountains of snow. Then, when winter comes, you enjoy nights with herbal tea and a good book or knitting project in front of you when the kids are down. You watch movies and play board games. Some years I'm exceptionally nerdy and put together a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle. You clean your house in a mad frenzy in March when spring fever starts to hit. You anxiously watch the ground for crocus bulbs in April and start to feel yourself revving up in May so that when June hits you are ready to run outside at the first glimpse of sun. For the next several months you run yourself ragged enjoying summer activities until the cycle starts again.

We moved here the end of February- hot off the heels of one of the most intense winters I've seen in a long time. The first month we were here the kids and I were literally at the beach four times a week. I think the locals thought I was crazy pushing my stroller on a cloudy day down to the beach front to watch my kids play and swim, but to me anything other than pouring rain was beach weather. We took advantage of every nice day- blow up inflatable pool in the back yard, slip n’ slide, picnics, park, bike rides, hikes, and beach, beach and more beach. The house looked like summer- towels hung out to dry, always one step behind in housecleaning, constant wondering what I’m going to put on the stove for dinner that night.

But guess what? Its been six months now and I’ll tell you this- living in summer mode forever is exhausting! I’m trying to teach my poor little inner Alaskan that all this good weather is not going to go away, so I can slow down, clean my house and not feel bad that we are not at the beach every time the beautiful sun pops its heads through the clouds. I can tell myself that it is OK to go to the library on a sunny day, its fine to knit and watch a movie in July and that my former maniac swings of activities are just not needed. I just wonder how long it is going to take to sink in…… old habits die hard.

Chinaman's Hat (the beach where James and I got engaged, eight years ago this month)

Dog Paddle

Remember our little boy that was petrified of the water? Who until he was almost three wouldn't even go in past his calves? Well, he thinks he's a fish now. Gone are the days of sitting lazily at the beach knowing he won't get himself in any danger because he won't go in the water. Its amazing what a set of goggles, swim lessons, endless days at the beach and warm water will do.

Elsie is still pretty petrified of the water. Her foray into bathing is about as much progress as we've made here. Pearl however, thinks she is a fish. A darling fish.

She's even taken up surfing :).

So to keep up with my kids in the water, I've started lap swimming at the University once a week. Guess what- I'm terrible! I honestly used to know how to swim a bit, but I'm like a little kid again- terrible breathing with my strokes, don't like to keep my face in the water, slow, tired. The only highlight to my lap swim is my new, cute swimsuit (my first non Wal-mart one in 8 years).

Nirvana

Is that two little girls asleep at the beach, in the middle of the day, at the same time, for two hours straight?

Why yes it is. I have acheived the highest level of relaxation- reading a book at the beach for this first time since arriving in Hawaii.

The Middle

This little girl has had a bit of a rocky adjustment into the role of middle child, but if we're being honest, she started that rocky road several months before Pearl arrived. Elsie is two on Sunday and she is in that wonderfully terrible stage of just beginning to really talk coupled with fantastic fits and loads of demands. She is quirky and funny, angry and stubborn, all at the same time.

This is typical Elsie on any given day. Half matched clothes, crazy hair and a binky she's dug up from some where. After almost two years of boycotting any TV, she is now a full blown addict. Every day she wants to watch Buzz and Woody. We have to leave the house to get her mind off of them.Elsie is hard to distract, thus an epic fit thrower. She loves her Dad and is always demanding him to pick her up. She also gets very jealous when he holds Pearl.

(The beginning of the fit when she told Dad to hold her)

(Sobbing for five minutes)

(Finally taking matters into her own hands and trying to rake Pearl off James' lap)

(A ten minute fit on the beach because James wouldn't walk to her to pick her up)

She is also a real girly, girl- which who knows where that comes from?? As you can see from most of her pictures, my hair skills leave a lot be desired and I try to keep princess crud away from the house, but somehow she still loves everything girl. She loves shoes (especially the dress up stuff her cousin gave her).

And she loves fancy dresses. We've had many fights over changing after Church.

She also thinks she's quite funny. She's always making faces to make us laugh and to get out of trouble. The picture below has to be one of my favorites of all times. I think I'm going to title it 'The Mad Professor'.

(Another silly face)

This age is also so magical- she's really figuring out her world and how to maneuver her way through it. She is talking, laughing and really starting to play with her older brother. She is a darling, darling girl.

(Gathering sand to try to share with Pearl)

Happy Birthday, sweet Elsie.

We are in love

We are all captivated by this little girl. There really isn't much better than a little six month old baby. The sounds, the giggles, scooting, drooling - we love it all.

It's Back!

Pearl is bringing back an old style in our house- The Mullet. I really do know its getting funny looking, but I have the hardest time cutting babies hair when they aren't even six months old.

Besides, she's wears it well.

Pearl Pics

We've moved into our new house within the past two weeks and we still have a lot more to do, but I know my family as been harassing me for more pictures of Pearl since they change so fast, so here is just a quick photo update of just her.

Smiling in the new place after we finished unpacking.

After Church a few weeks ago

With Grandpa Alaska on his visit here a month ago. She loved him, even fell asleep on his shoulder!

With her Daddy under the mango tree

Unfortunately for the little gal, most of her pics involve some sort of abuse, because every time I take out the camera to try to capture her smiles or cuteness, one sibling or the other is trying to get in the picture or manhandle her in some way- so here's some of Pearl with her loving tormentors.

Hanging out in the hammock in the back yard

Getting stuck in a camp chair by cousins

Early morning snuggling with Louis, Elsie and a kite

Being made to play 'ni-night' by older sister (though she strangely seemed to enjoy this one)

Being held by her older brother. He's actually getting pretty good at entertaining her and making her laugh.

There's the Pearl update folks- more pics of the other kids, our new place and Hawaii coming soon (maybe.... I hope).

Slippers, not flipflops

We're here! After a horrendous trip that I'm sure I've complained about to anyone who would listen, we arrived after 43 hours of traveling. It took us a couple of days to recover (me especially), but we quickly settled in and have tried not to drive Grandma and Grandpa too crazy (though in the course of four weeks my kids have broken their screen door and curtain, and I have ripped a towel holder right off the wall).

Part of my blogging malaise in the last two months has been my lack of pictures, because let's face it- I'm not much of a writer, and I'm positive my family (which is likely my entire readership) much prefers pics of the kiddos to my musings on life's deepest questions. Unfortunately, our camera and all of its lenses was stolen during our move and we only recently acquired its replacement.

So without further ado, here is the big unveil of a three month old, totally transformed from a newborn, baby Pearl. We start with her closed mouth, contemplative look.

Isn't her hair hilarious? I'm her own mother and I can't even get over it. It is wavy here now, and if I style it just right after the bath, is seriously looks like Elvis ala his Vegas era. It is still thick and prolific and growing. She is definitely destined for the baby mullet, which we will have to cut soon, I'm afraid. Its just growing down her back faster than the rest of her hair already.

And here is her open mouth, I'm about to start dropping drool everywhere look, followed by a Queen Bumbo pose.
Still adorable, no? We love this baby. She is fulfilling every third child expectation you could ever have- started sleeping through the night at six weeks, takes good naps, poops pure gold, etc. etc. But lest she get too cocky, she still has to put up with stuff like this....

That's right- kiss it, both cheeks (movie source anyone?)! Sometimes the abuse is even worse. James and I spend a large majority of our time trying to protect Pearl from dropped remotes or toys and over aggressive kisses and love. Here's the best I got trying to photograph all three of them together. Elsie has really been enjoying the ability to go outside almost at will, and though she still demands a lot of James, there have been a few small miracles since we moved here. First, and most importantly- she will take a bath! That is without trying to claw the adult bather's eyes out and screaming the entire time. Her cousin was in the bathtub with Louis last week and after eight months of bathtub boycott, she asked to get in. Since that day she has asked for a bath everyday and loved it! Seriously, if you had experienced the horror of Elsie's bath time (or smelled her because I would never bathe her for fear of the horror I would experience) you would know this was blog and picture worthy.She still loves to give me the best angry looks when I'm not doing what she wants. We term these 'dark eyes', and she can now do them on command. Seriously, would you want to deal with this girl when she looks like this?But most of the time she is an adorable toddler, running around with random items like her Tinkerbell toothbrush and rain boots, begging to be pushed in her car that Auntie Sonya found for her. Louis is far to busy running and jumping to be photographed. He, of all of us is benefiting the most from the increased outdoor time. He has learned to climb the mango tree and loves to catch lizards with his cousin Keane. Last time he came over they had EIGHT in a bucket at one time! He goes outside every evening that he can to run up and down the street with the other little neighborhood kids and their bikes and still thinks he is friends with teenagers (he informed me yesterday that our 14 year old next door neighbor Keith was his best friend in Hawaii). He has adjusted to his new Sunbeam class and most adorably loves to make Pearl smile and laugh. Actually, correction- he loves to try to make her laugh. Sometimes it is just a lot of yelling and contorted faces that actually make her scream. Ah Louis, same as ever.And then there is James, asleep on the floor with the chaos around him. No, James is great and seems to enjoy being back home. He loves his job so far and is going on a business trip this week for six days. Wish me luck!

So that's our month's recap in pictures. My only complaint about Hawaii the sun streaks already starting in my hair. They are ugly [why did I ever put lemon juice in my hair and actually want them in high school???]. I am seriously going to have to start wearing a big old granny beach hat to protect my hair and freckled face. And not just at the beach, I mean like everywhere. You need a good calling card like that to embarrass your children as they grow older. It is one of my highest aspirations as a mother. That's my mothering motto- "If you're not embarrassed, I'm not doing my job." Wish me luck on that one too!

I've rambled enough, so I must post and go to bed, before the neighborhood roosters crow me awake.