Luke Says:

 
I have grass in my tummy for real - I swallowed it.

The bees could puke in my jar all the time.

Even though I love Dad the best, I still love you, Mom.

(to the tune of London Bridge) Under bridges, underpants! Underpants! Underpants!

When you hear the DO do de do do, that's when the monkey popped out of the weasel.

Luke: My tummy is telling me it's not hungry for dinner.  It wants my chocolate milk shake.
Derek: You have to teach that tummy that it doesn't get milk shakes until it eats dinner.
Luke: I told it, but it just won't listen!

We got baby-sitters!!!

We are ecstatic!  Carl and Derek are ecstatic too...on the inside.

We ate lots of great things, starting with a bottle of Barberra from Tobin James, ending with gelatti on Corydon, and centered with a fabulous array of pastas from Cafe Carlo.  We talked like people from Winnipeg (real estate gurus are we), we walked like people from Santa Cruz (crossing the street halfway, standing on the yellow line waiting for traffic to clear on the other half), we ate like people from California (start the meal off right with a bottle of wine!).  We talked and we walked and we ate, and WE HAD BABY-SITTERS!!!  Raise your hand if you remember being able to finish three sentences in a row...I can now raise my hand!

The perfect evening.  The perfect double-date.

*sigh* It's good to be with friends.

no shoes, no service

Luke takes his shoes off everywhere.  It seems like we are always looking for his shoes.  At least twice in the last week I have answered the door to find some little neighbor kids returning Luke's shoes, which he left in someone or other's yard.  I have gotten so frustrated with the time wasted looking for his shoes, (and always you realize they're missing when you're in a hurry to get out the door) that I was on the verge of buying him a new pair to keep in the car.  Well, now he'd done it for good.  The sandals were gone, had been gone for five days, and no little neighbor kids coming to the door with them.  Forever and ever good-bye.

Well, now we know forever is just down the street.  This morning we rode bike to Emerado, and what do our wondering eyes behold?  Wouldn't you know it!  There in the stones beneath the slide, "My SHOES!  My lost SHOES!!" Luke shouted over his shoulder.  I'm considering glueing them to his feet.

 

Photographers and Yogis Get In Strange Positions

 For every pose the bride assumes, the photographer assumes three.  Encumbered not by cinches and girdles, but only by her imagination, the photographer acknowledges no physical limitations that inhibit the creation of Art in this wonderful Reality.

Waiting for the Parade: How to Evaluate Time Well-Spent

 Some of us are blessed with more patience than others.  Some of us are blessed with children who are more patient than others.  Some of us are blessed with neither and have to decide to make lemonade out of lemons...like when you're waiting for a parade to go by and Mom forgot to bring snacks, or toys, or drinks, or...anything fun (because she thought the parade was the fun, diverting part of the excursion - silly Mom). 

And when the parade finally finally FINALLY goes by we all ask ourselves, "Was it worth it?"
Well, our process of evaluating time well-spent has changed since having kids.  We sat out in the hot sun waiting for a parade for nearly forty-five minutes (we were near the end), and then sat in the hot sun watching a parade that didn't even include a marching band (okay there were marching bap pipe-players, bag pipe-ists? bag pipers!) go by for another forty-five minutes, and listened to two hungry, hot, tired boys complain the whole way home while we sat in the worst traffic I have ever seen in our small town (it took us fifteen minutes to get home! ha!).

BUT Luke got to wave at the Winkler police, and high five a volunteer fireman, and ooh and aah over the man on stilts, and Seamus jumped and giggled when the fire engine blared its horn, and spent fifteen minutes amusing himself and his Mom putting on and taking off Mom's sunglasses, and pointed at the horses saying, "Dog! Dog!"  While we watched, Luke very maturely turned to us and waxed reminiscent, "Remember last year at the parade...?"  Under our new evaluation system this is a very positive result. Did the kids enjoy themselves?  Have we just built new and positive childhood memories?  Could this be the beginning of a family tradition?  Did Mommy learn a lesson: to pack snacks and toys no matter what?  If the answer is yes, I believe we can say that despite the myriad and fruitful ways we could have spent our Saturday morning, waiting for the parade was time well-spent.

"Hit the beaches!"

A perfect Friday morning: sun, water, Megan and Margo.

This little guy fussed about the coolness of the water for a while, and clung to Megan like a drowning kitten, which we found endearing.  Eventually he calmed down enough to exercise his curiosity and make a few tentative splashes with his palms.

Dyck tradition insists you shout at the top of your lungs as you race towards the water, "HIT THE BEACHES!!!"

The best of the best.  A snuggly warm baby in the lap of a mother-to-all: Seamus and Margo

Long Weekend @ Clear Lake

warm sunny naps

campfires at dusk

marshmallows

waking up to the sound of wind in the poplars

adirondaks

bike rides

sandy children

cold water on feet

splashy boat ride with a baby muttering all the way home about getting wet sitting in the front of the " 'toona boat" (as luke called the pontoon boat)

ice cream eaten outdoors

the argument:  Madelyn says, "You will marry me!"  Luke says, "I won't!" Madelyn says, "You will marry me!"  Luke says, "I won't!" Madelyn says, "You will marry me!"  Luke says, "I won't!" devolving into the cliche childhood bickering match, "YES!"  "NO!"  "YES!"  "NO!"

sun salutations

fabulous flea market finds

red wine

BBQ chicken and au gratin potatoes with corn and poblanos

olympics olympics olympics

friends

Why I need yoga today

an excerpt from my journal today:

I am feeling...Overwhelmed.  But no, I’m not using that word because it’s too easy to let yourself off the hook when you say you’re overwhelmed, make it somebody else’s responsibility.  I’m not overwhelmed, not truly.  I can handle this all.  It’s just a lot and I need to think.  no, not to think.  to stop.  to breathe.  I need to remember to breathe.  I need to do yoga.  Yoga is very very good for me. It helps keep me sane.  It reminds me to breathe.  It reminds me that I’m here, only here, right now, only now, doing this. This is my body, I am moving this way, breathing this way, breathing, strong, breathing, healthy, doing good things for my body so I can go back into my day with fresh breath, and new awareness of my strength, new vigor and tenacity, fresh perspective and clarity.  Yoga. Yoga. Yoga.

Lost and Found Luke Says

I found this list of Luke says, looked back on the blog and was astounded I hadn't published them!  What's wrong with me?  These are adorable!

Derek: You're putting words in God's mouth.
Luke: God telled me when I was in Mom's tummy that babies can't have wooden toys.

What is that in the world!?

Vests are tummy jackets.

Go to your Mom now, Seamus.

Dad, maybe we could give Seamus away at a garage sale so he doesn't do a lot of damage and make me share my toys.

I only want to share my toys with people who can say a lot of words like "please" and not cry.