Cousins. They smell right.

Hannah is fitting in pretty well here, apart from her willingness to do chores, that is. She cheerfully does things without being asked, which is a completely foreign concept to my children. I feel bad that our day's offerings are to, a.) go to the beach and get ice cream, b.) get ice cream and go to the beach, or c.) hang out at home. She seems to be settling into our boring routine, though, although she did absolutely jump at the chance to go buck some bales of hay with Mitch and Jack, who are building an archery range somewhere on the property.

Today's big project was to go through the kids' drawers and see what doesn't fit anymore for fall. The boys are so easy. A few new pairs of jeans and sweatshirts, and that's it. "Do we have to go with you, or can you just order them on the internet?" they whined. The girls tried on all their long sleeved dresses and leggings and jeans, and NOTHING freaking fit anymore. Sigh, I said. "It looks like you're going to need all new clothes for fall."

"WOOOOOHOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" they screamed, jumping up and down and high-fiving each other.

The minute Mitch walked in the door tonight, Grace said, "Daddy! We're going to need your credit card! We need all new clothes!"

They were still talking about what they were going to buy while they were taking a bath.

Olivia: "I want a dress with a horsie on it, and pants with a horsie, and a shirt with a horsie. Or Hello Kitty."

Grace: "I want a light pink dress with a jeweled neckline, with a butterfly dripping magic down the front onto a garden growing rainbow flowers." Of course she does. Who wouldn't want that?

Not Exactly What I had in Mind

Jack: Oh, yeah, mom, thanks for that "What Every Sixth Grader Should Know" book you put on my bed.

Kate: Good! Is there anything interesting in it?

Jack: Oh, I haven't opened it yet. I was saving it so I could copy it when I get assignments next year.

Also, yesterday we ran into Jack's favorite teacher (since his beloved first grade teacher, Mrs. Rice), Mr. L. at the world's slowest pharmacy. Mr. L told Jack and I that he really hoped Jack could get more motivated at school next year, because he didn't want him to not like school. "Uh, you're too late for that, Mr. L." sez Jack. Charming.

Mitch and the boys picked Hannah, his neice, up from the airport yesterday. She'll be spending the next two weeks with us. They went to the Rainforest Cafe and to the Simpson's movie (I would like to say that this was not a mom-sanctioned activity. Henry's never been allowed to watch the Simpsons. But, Henry is Bart Simpson, you say? DOH!) Anyway, they got home and Henry had the look on his face that he'd just discovered the holy grail.

"That was the best, funniest, movie I've ever seen mom!"

"But, Henry wasn't there a lot of bad words and potty humor?"

"Yeah, but it was nothing like I hear at home from you, mom."

Grace is sitting at the kitchen counter, hammering some playdoh with a toy hammer. tap tap tap tap tap tap

"Mommy, there's someone at the door!" she says.

"Um, no Grace, that's your hammer."

"Huh?"

We walked onto the ferry to Port Townsend yesterday. It was a beautiful day, marred by the fact that Mitch's client called and Mitch spent the whole ride accross the straights calling people and cursing them out. So, that was fun. The kids got to see a new side of Daddy. Mean, Project Manager Daddy. Comes complete with a pulsating vein in his forehead. What's that? Oh, yes, he IS on vacation.

Anyhow, we walked around the little town and had lunch at a fifties-style diner, where they had ginormous ice cream sundaes. Henry ordered the biggest one they had and would have eaten every bite if we hadn't made him stop when he turned green and went cross-eyed. However, nobody barfed, which, for our family, is awesome! There was a time when Henry wasn't allowed to have ice cream out in public at all. It was all tied in with his asthma. Ice cream would freeze his little air pipes and he would always vomit if he ate it. Too much information? I got so good at catching it, I could be driving down the freeway, hear that little catch in his throat, grab a bucket from under the seat and catch the barf with one hand, without breaking my speed. That's how awesome I am.

Fort Casey and dresses that stayed surprisingly white for the whole ding-dang day.
Olivia returns from her triumphant turn at peeing in the great outdoors. A little did go on her pants, which she told Aunt Kimmy after she had been sitting on her shoulders for about 15 minutes.
That special cousin looooove.
Look at all our hangnails! As usual, on this hike I was yelling at Mitch for taking the kids on dangerous trails that were too close to steep cliffs. I was so concerned for their well-being and so busy bitching Mitch out, that I didn't pay attention to what I was doing and slipped down the cliff myself. He stopped short of saying our family motto: "INSTANT KARMA!"
These kids don't look like they're up to no good, do they?

-

So, our annual 'Kate's family' vacation was this week. After our big move and Mitch's terrible car accident, the thought of leaving my little cocoon for a week wasn't all that appealing, so my family was good enough to do Whidbey this year. Lots of good food and wine, and major cousin love. It's like when dogs sniff each other's butts with cousins. One sniff, and you know whether they're any good for the rest of your life. However, when Henry and Anthony realized they wouldn't be seeing each other again for a long time yesterday, many tears poured. Henry brought out the old Emmett Kelly face for the rest of the day. "This is a SUCKY family vacation," he cried. Half the family left Wednesday, and we spent yesterday with Marci, Mackenzie, Grandpa and Grandma D watching the sailboat races and hiking on the beach, followed by dinner out (yay! no dishes!--I have an aversion to paper plates). Marci was kind enough to take ALL my friggin' kids overnight at her cottage, and what did Mitch and I do while we had the house to ourselves for the first time since, um, 1996? I went to sleep at 9:30 and he finished reading the Harry Potter book, because as I've said before, we really know how to party. Jack also finished the book, so now we can talk about how we would have written it better (actually, I'm the only one that does that, but that epilogue was sooo cheesy!).

So today, we were all pretty wiped out, but Mitch is really enjoying the fact that he has a bin full of folded underwear courtesy of Nana. He's never worn underwear that had been folded before. Don't get used to it mister, I don't get paid enough as it is. But! I did get a new totally cute leather Coach purse while shopping with my sisters. Yay! I would post a picture of it, but I don't want anyone to feel bad that they don't have such an awesome purse. I was raised better than that. Sheesh.

The Harry Potter Reading Room

So, Mitch did run out on Saturday and get me my own copy of the book. Not because he loves me, but because I kept following him around the house, saying, "I wonder if the mailman is here yet." And things like that. Jack was appalled at the waste of money of buying two copies of the same book, but when I said it was either that, or I got to read the book first, he shut up. Like it's even his money. I finished it Saturday night, but here are Scott, Jack, and Mitch all reading it on day one of our family vacation. Because we know how to party.

As you can see from the new header, it's all about Harry Potter, at least for the next few days while the two HP geeks in the family read our books. We're such geeks that we reread the sixth book so we'll BE! READY! OKAY!

I love having my mom here. I've had to go to Seattle the past few days for doctor's appts., and I come home to made beds, clean, folded laundry, and happy kids. Moms rule! But don't load my dishwasher, old lady (um, just kidding mom! haha.).

After I got home from Seattle today, Nana and I took the kids to the pool. The girls happily frolicked in the kiddie pool with Nana, Anthony and Jack fooled around in the big pool, and Henry decided to play a little joke on the lifeguard. Let me start this story by saying Henry is a pretty good swimmer. He's passed four levels and can easily swim the length of the pool a few times. But, here is what he did. Jumped off the high dive and started slapping the water with a terrorized look on his face like he was drowning. I rolled my eyes and yelled for him to get his butt to the side of the pool, but before I had the sentence out, whistles were blowing the the lifeguard was diving into the water to save his life. She kicked him out of the deep end and then brought out the giant swinging ball so the kids could swing out to the middle of the pool and drop. Then, she paid him back by making him swim two lengths of the pool before he could do it, too. I told her I thought he should be banned for the whole day, but she fell for his doe-eyed, "I really forgot how to swim for a minute" routine. Of course she didn't see the little Henry smirk behind her back. Dang kid.

11 years old! On Monday, Jack's birthday, I took Jack, Anthony, and Henry to see the new Harry Potter movie. It got three thumbs up from the boys. Jack and I are currently ironing out the reading schedule for the new HP book which comes out on Saturday. I should just buy two copies. I probably will, because that dang Jack is going to HOG the book. Anthony walked in on Jack, who was lying in bed reading yesterday, and said, "Are you in trouble?"
Grace finally consented to go to the beauty shop and get her mullet fixed. Just mommy and Grace, so that was part of the draw, I think. Afterwards, we all went to the library for story time and one of Grace's preschool boyfriends was there. She sidled right up to him and kissed him and rubbed his back. Oy. And here is the new and improved mullet-free Grace!:

The only way to travel. Wireless headphones, a dvd, and sleepinig twins.
A gaggle of 10 and 11 year-old boys sleeping on Kim's couch after they got home from camp.
Gracie fell asleep in her cool cousin Scott's arms.

So, our long weekend in Spokane is over. It was. Um. Fine. Friday night was my 20 year hs reunion. Poor Mitch spent the whole time being berated by an ex while her sociopathic son stood by. Sam and I flitted about, but were very happy to be done with the whole thing by the time we left. Ick. About 3 am I woke up with a migraine so bad I had to go to the frigging ER for narcotics and they tried to teach me a lesson by not giving me narcotics, so, when 3 hours passed and I was climbing the walls and they finally DID give me narcotics, the headache was so bad I still haven't gotten rid of it. Also, I told them the only place they would get a vein, but since they know my veins better than me, especially when they're shrunken from a migraine, they poked me six times and now I look like I have green and purple giant poka dots all over my arms. YOU SUCK, DEACONESS DOCTOR AND NURSES!!!!!! Mitch spent the rest of the weekend mucking out stuff from his mom's house as she gets ready to sell the place she's lived for over 40 years. So basically his weekend was TOTALLY AWESOME, MAN!

Jack came home from camp covered in mosquito bites and stories of mud fights, animal poop fights, and climbing on the girls' bathroom in their boxers and throwing water balloons at the girls. This time, with all the mud and poop slinging, he actually used all his clothes. The. Smell. Not. Good. We brought Nana, cousin Anthony, and Hunter home from Spokane with us (yep, that's 9 people plus a dog), but Mitch's car is so freaking huge that we were all pretty comfortable. And thank you, Jesus, for the drop down dvd player.

Mitch and his brother spent their childhood collecting comic books, and ended up accumulating several large boxes full of them up in their mom's attic. Every time we visited, my boys would positively drool over them. Finally, the last time we were there, we brought them home, where Mitch promptly stashed them out of the boys' reach, only to remove one at a time and then carefully slide it back into it's protective covering after the boys caught a glimpse of it from across the room. I kid! Sort of.

Today we're headed to Eastern Washington for my 20th 10th high school reunion, and so Mitch can help his mom get ready to sell her house. Last night at the table, Mitch was melancholy about his last visit to the home he grew up in. Henry piped up: "Don't worry, Dad, at least we got the comic books out!"

So I called Mitch over to the computer. "Look at this picture of Henry!" He walks over and says, "Jesus, those teeth are going to be expensive." Only 39 1/2 and he's already turned into a grumpy old fart.

It's. So. Hot. And did I mention it's hot? It's like, 95 degrees or something, and humid. I could go on and on about the heat as I sit on my porch shellin' peas. Olivia, like me, is a complainer and a whiner when she's uncomfortable. Her ice cream cone broke and you would have thought the dog shit in her ear the way she carried on. Henry was only too happy to finish her drippy cone for her while she went storming up to her room. SLAM! went the door. Grace daintily finished every last lick of her cone. Mitch and I were alternating our ice cream with sips of wine. Almost a wine float, actually. Yum! I'll have to try that tomorrow. With champagne. MMMMmm.

It's 87 degrees and this is how Henry is running around today. Two layers of long-sleeved costumes and a paper bag over his head. He'd asked me what the next holiday was, because at our house it's all about celebrations. When he found out the only holiday he cares about next is Halloween, he was tearing through his costume box. I hope 3 1/2 months will be enough time to get his costume together.

Later, when the kids were playing in the freezing kiddie pool, Henry stood up, looked in his swim trunks, and exclaimed, "I SHRUNK!"

I'm grumpy from the heat and I've played seventeen games of "Go Fish". My little trick when I want some alone time is to say, "Okay, kids, let's see how quickly we can clean up the hou....." and they've disappeared, *poof* it's mommy magic! I can usually get a good 20 minutes to myself this way. I'm missing Jack sorely. I miss his sense of humor, for there was no one to laugh with when Henry was so alarmed at his shrinkage. I'm sure he's having a blast at camp and enjoying not having any chores. Only 53 days until mommy goes to camp. Not that I'm counting or anything.

At the Farmer's Market today, I picked up nectarines, plums, and apricots and put them in a bowl on the kitchen counter. Tonight, as I was walking through the kitchen, I noticed a paper towel on the counter with 5 (!) pits from these various fruits on it, and they were completely sucked clean. Olivia rounded the corner right then with plum juice dripping down her chin. Yay that I'm going to be in Seattle all day tomorrow! (Mitch, the flush wipes are under the downstairs bathroom sink).

In 48 hours Jack will be on the road to camp with his buddy, Hunter. Yesterday I got out his suitcase and started taking inventory of what we might need to buy. I had him trying on shorts and swimsuits from last year. Although he's gotten taller, his waist, if anything, is smaller. He was really getting exhasperated with my intrusion into his room and making him try stuff on. "Jeez, mom, it's not like I'm going to wear any of that stuff, anyway." It's true, he always comes home with a suitcase full of clean clothes.

"Do you want me to pack you any pajamas?"

"No, I'll just sleep in what I'm wearing that day."

"How many pairs of underwear do you think you'll need?"

"One," he deadpanned, signalling that it was time for me to be done assaulting his cool factor.

Monday night was terrible. The jets started flying at 10pm and didn't stop until 2am. The "sound of freedom" as they call it, turned into the sound of cursing. I'd never heard them at night before. However, Tuesday was a beautiful morning and the kids and I had a little list of errands and doctor's appointments up in Oak Harbor. We had to get some bubble wands, glue, and fish food, so, yes, we went to Walmart. Where someone made the cruelest comment I've ever received. We were in the checkout line and the girl behind the register said to the twins, "Are you girls having a good time with your Nana today?" Stunned silence by the five of us. Yes, by Walmart's standards I could be a grandmother at 38, but I was momentarily paralized by mortification. Jack was sweet all the way out to the car, "Mom, you were carded at Safeway just a few days ago when you were buying wine! You look really young, mom!" Bless his heart. Henry thought it was hilarious, and the girls were all, "Nana's not even coming for a few weeks, why is mommy turning green?" I was so upset I didn't even want to put it on my blog, but Mitch said, "of course you have to put that on your blog. You put every embarrassing detail of our lives on there. If you don't, I'm going to start a blog of my own and call it 'Kate'sShame.com'."

Next stop, the orthodontist. Once upon a time, a girl with an underbite fell in love with a boy with an overbite and they got married. They foolishly thought their children would have perfect bites because their dental defects would surely cancel each other out. The orthodontist looked in Jack's mouth and when he looked up at me, I saw happy little dollar signs in his pupils. Overbite! Then, he looked in Henry's mouth, and I saw a second home in Hawaii reflected in his pupils. Underbite! Years of orthodontics! Yay for us! I broke it to the kids on the way out that we would not be going to Disneyland this winter after all. They were very, very sweet about it, so I took them out for lunch where Jack ate two burgers, a shake, and two curly fries. Eat me out of house and home with those terrible teeth of yours, mister.

On to Jack's doctor appointment. He had seven warts frozen off, and the poor kid was stoic--not a tear shed, which is lucky because I had my hands full with Grace crying every time the doc put the sizzling liquid nitrogen on Jack's skin. Again, Henry was quite thrilled to witness the horror. On the way home, Mitch called from the 2-hour long ferry line to get the orthodontic report, so between the traffic, our impending financial disaster, and 3 hours' sleep, he was a wee bit grumpy when he got home. Still, the kids had been so good all day that he agreed to take them to the fireworks.

They do small-town fireworks here on the night before the Fourth of July, and I must say it's a fantastic idea. It's 7:20am right now and everyone is still upstairs sawing logs. The kids loved the fireworks, and they all stayed awake but Grace, who gave up just before it was over. There was music and food and all kinds of kid stuff. I felt like I was in a movie about a small town in which dancing isn't allowed, but a city kid comes in and starts his own dance and sets the town on fire with his awesome tunes and dancing. But I digress. Also, we've decided to change Henry's name to Kramer, for his gift of falling ass-backwards into a pile of money without working for it. Some nice woman in front of us gave Kramer $3.00 to watch her blanket while she went and got some food. Jack was indignant, but since he was too busy looking too cool to be under a blanket, he missed his opportunity. About five minutes after the woman left, though, Henry/Kramer started whining, "oh, when is she going to get back here?" like watching a blanket is. such. hard. work. It was a long walk back to the car, what with my bursitis, my bunions, and my walker catching on the uneven trail. Grandmother indeed.

Henry: "Ugh, the beach again? Can't we go to Pump it Up?"

Me: "No Henry, I have to get some little pieces of driftwood for an art project I have planned. And when I told you to go outside and get some fresh air, I didn't mean go sit in the shade with your gameboy, now put it away."

Jack: "You're going to STEAL driftwood off the beach? I'm not going with you to break the law. I can't believe you're going to steal driftwood. Nice example you're setting, mom."

Me: "You are too going. I need someone to be a lookout, now get your butts in the car!"

Do you see what I'm dealing with, people? With the exception of Jack's disdain for my thievery, we did have a lovely day, highlighted by seeing a guy on a lawn tractor in his underwear, man boobs a-jiggling.

Car Wash, working at the car wash, yeah.....

Mitch got up at the crack of dawn on Saturday and took the boys fishing. When the girls and I finally got up, we gave ourselves pedicures and went to the Farmer's Market. There was a huge rummage sale in town, so we went to that as well. Olivia found a freaky, very close-up painting of Santa's face that she had to have, Grace found some teeny-tiny muffin tins that were "so, so cute!", and I found the perfect size desk for Jack's room. I had to load it into my van by myself, because I was afraid to ask the frail old Lion's Club guys for help. When we got home, the boys still weren't back from fishing yet, so I hauled the desk up to Jack's room so I could surprise him. I spent an hour rearranging Jack's very heavy furniture to make it all work, while Grace kept reminding me, "Mommy! You said S-H-I-T again!"

The boys came home with 2 dozen fish. That is, they stopped at Walmart on the way home from their fruitless fishing trip and bought goldfish for our pond. Henry was most excited about the very perfect piece of crisp bacon he had at the restaurant where they went out to breakfast. I'm still hearing about that damn crisp bacon.

Mitch and the little ones spent the rest of the afternoon washing the cars. I didn't want to get in their way, so I hauled a lawn chair out to the driveway where I could sit, drink my tea, and help them find spots they missed. I'm good like that. At one point, Henry glared at me and said, "you know, you're not being very respectful of someone who is scrubbing your tires." (Note my pedicure!)