What a wonderful afternoon it has been.
My dear friend, Rachel, and her husband were off for an evening away to celebrate their anniversary; consequently, I got to host their three beautiful girls for the afternoon before shuttling them off to their Aunt's house for the night... if I could walk around with a voice recorder, I'd copy it, package it and sell it to YOU because this post will only give you a taste of the joy these six FANTASTIC children brought me throughout the last several hours...
First of all enjoy some shots of these hooligans - you know me, I love shots.
This evening as I was driving the Kalous girls to their Aunt's home, Ava exclaimed, "YOUR van is fast!" "How many is your van, Krista?" She leaned to the right and called up to the front of the van, "Our's isn't very fast cause its 10. How many is your's?!"
"Uh... this van is 8," as I looked in my rearview mirror and caught Ava's very calculated face looking back at me. She leaned back and looked out her window as though she had just figured it out...
"Yep. That's why its so fast, Krista... yours is faster because its 8. Ours is 10 and its not this fast."
(Note for the reader: Rachel drives a '99 Honda Odyssey and I drive an '01 Honda Odyssey - the ONLY difference between our vans is the exterior color)
I chuckled to myself as I thought about her mental picture of how 'old' her van is and how 'young' our van is and how that equates to human aging. The best part was yet to come though...
I turned on 530 AM radio real quick as I passed a roadside sign alarming drivers of highway closures. Ava spoke up immediately and said, 'hey! Krista?! What is this?' (referring to the AM radio's scratchy, barely audible vocals)
"This tells me where the highway is closed and where the construction is happening..."
Again, Ava took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders as though the information shouldn't be so shocking. "Our van doesn't have this kind of radio... its older and it doesn't have this. My Mom can't find out where the construction workers are working when she's driving." I laughed to the point of tears... to myself, of course, because her heart was set on this reality that she had discovered and I couldn't tell her differently. It was too fantastic and I didn't want to blow it.
The rest of the car trip included dinosaur sounds, pig 'oinking' and I taught them how to squeal like a pig. You're welcome, Rachel.
Other great moments during the day included:
Ava: "Krista, I was born from a green egg, right?"
Harper: "I love you too." (I hadn't even said I loved her! So sweet.)
The girls loved the Spanish version of the song, "Reflection", from the movie Mulan.
There was a LOT of pirates and princesses played at our house today...
They painted rocks found in the back yard... they picked blackberries (images above)... took naps and quiet times - which I walked in on and found a barely alive patient (Ava) being helped by a nurse (Katie) as William stood around assisting. I guess the scarf over Ava's face and the 'Little People' plastic road sign sticking out of her mouth was healing because before long they were out of quiet time and running around again jumping, squealing, talking over each other and dancing...
Oh, here's some more shots:
What a good day.
Brett Paesel did not mean to write a book that would explode every taboo on modern motherhood. A book that would polarise the breeding faction of the US, where a certain kind of woman embraced it as an inspired, funny, brilliantly rude and long-overdue affirmation; while another kind of woman pilloried it as an inflammatory, gratuitous, irresponsible article of near blasphemy. Paesel, 46, didn't intend to write a book that would inspire Cindy Chupack - legendary executive producer of Sex and the City - to say, 'It's so painfully honest and funny, there should be a two-drink minimum [for readers] ...'; a book, furthermore, that would get banned in Oregon, where it was deemed too sexy. Paesel didn't mean to become a significant voice in what Americans call the Beta Mom Movement, the anti-hot-housing, anti-competitive, haphazard and easy-going school of child-rearing; she did not mean to become a regular on talk shows and the star draw on fashionable reading groups. Brett Paesel didn't mean to write a book at all.
After an evening of wining and dining with some close girlfriends, I came home nodded to my husband who was on a business call and headed upstairs to see what I could accomplish in the next few moments before bed.
I saw the bright green "END" light on my washer and dryer so I strolled into the laundry room with all the strength I could muster after feeling rather 'blah-se' most of the day. I pulled Mr. Bear out of the washer and haphazardly set him atop the dryer. He looked so picturesque; so rugged and worn with his damp, knotty hair. And then it clicked in me as to why I wanted to run and get my camera -- he was a picture of how I've been feeling the last couple of days.
Ahhhh... Annie. If I would one day find the likes of you again I will be a proud dog owner. Twice.
Upon opening my front door today I witnessed 'pellet-poop' and my concerns went through the roof. My fleeting desire to consider other rental properties was not so fleeting anymore... I wanted OUT. Enough with little yard spiders... enough with the 'new construction' extremely LARGE, HAIRY brown spiders... enough with wasps' nests and spider webs... enough with weeds galore due to the wild flowers growing behind the property... ENOUGH ENOUGH ENOUGH!
The most recent Berges Beach Family Reunion took place just this past week. We arrived in Salem, Oregon in waves. Kyle, the kids, my sister-in-law and I had arrived, eaten dinner downstairs at the restaurant and jumped quickly into our swimsuits... we were swimming in the indoor pool when everyone else began to arrive...
We arrived at the beautiful Oregon Coast Sunday afternoon, August 9th. We're always so anxious to see the beach house that we leave the cars packed up until we've investigated every crook and cranny of every room. We discuss the sleeping situation and hurriedly begin unpacking each family's items into their spaces... I often unpack EVERYTHING right off the bat so that I feel at home and under control as we begin what will be a week of sandy clothes, wonderful late night conversation, laughter, crab feasts, shopping and playing. Not to mention THIS YEAR would be the celebration of my Dad's 60th Birthday... and we had big plans.
Sunday and Monday were spent getting prepared for my Dad's celebration. We attached poster board onto each of 60 paint stir sticks. On each of those pieces of poster board we had written memories, characteristics that remind us of Dad, love notes, thank you notes, pictures that represented something... at 4pm the next day they were left on the beach for my Dad to retrieve on his late afternoon walk. He walked onto the beach with my Mom and noticed the first sign. As he looked up the beach ahead of him he saw an endless trail of signs and he began to walk...
So much goings ons... how do you say that? I never know where the 's' belongs.
Last night, Kyle and I whipped up a batch of homemade laundry detergent. All of these ingredients cost less than $15 (including the reusable 5 gallon bucket w/ lid). With each batch - which makes 3-4 gallons of detergent - only 1 cup of my A&H washing soda and 1/2 cup of my Borax is used... this'll last us awhile. The Fels Naptha soap is found in the laundry aisle alongside these other ingredients - and although you could use a bar soap that is .50 as opposed to this $1.95 bar, its not worth having my entire family break out in hives! Oi... such sensitive skin in this household. Not to mention, I only use 1/2 of this bar as opposed to using an entire bar if I were to use Ivory, Dove or the like. 
