Aloha Hawai'i, 2019

This year, thanks to the stars aligning in the heavens (aka good timing, Southwest miles, and Clayton's sister Rina), Clayton and I were able to go to Hawaii.

Windward Side in Kaaawa, Oahu

Our first destination was a VRBO right on the beach in Kaaawa. Before arriving, however, we had to reckon with the cold I’d caught the night before. By the time we found our rental car, my head and face were aflame with fever. I left Clayton to ooh and aah at Oahu alone while I lay half-dead in the reclined passenger seat hopped up on 4 different drugs. We stopped at a public park on the way to our VRBO while we waited to hear if the owners would let us check-in early. Clayton took some pics.

Heʻeia State Park

And thank heavens, they said yes. This place we stayed at was absolutely amazing. It was a spacious studio on top of the owners’ garage, and the studio looked, felt, and smelled new. The location was as close to Hawaiian paradise as you can get.

Luckily, we didn’t have any plans for the first day except to relax, so I took that up a couple notches and rested my yuck-filled sinuses out in every way that I could. As much as I missed my children, I was super grateful (and kinda weirded out) to have a thoroughly uninterrupted resting period.

The next morning, we took it slow. Slow breakfast, slow moving around accompanied by lots of blowing of the nose. We tested my strength with a soothing walk along the beach just beyond the yard of our rental. I loved that.

Then, counting on the warm humid air of Hawaii to soothe my angry sinuses, we set out to our first planned activity just 15 minutes away—the Polynesian Cultural Center.

Polynesian Cultural Center

The PCC is one of Oahu’s greatest tourist attractions. It’s run by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and many of the staff and cast are students from BYU-Hawaii. They come from some of the Polynesian Islands: Samoa, Tonga, Hawaii, Fiji, Aotearoa (New Zealand), Tahiti, and Hawaii. Each of these islands has their own “village” with a few cultural things to see, activities to try (starting fire with a stick, a stick-toss game, some coconut stuff, a canoe ride, etc), and several performances throughout the day.

I’ll be honest, there wasn’t as much to the villages as I was expecting, but we still loved seeing what culture we could, learning things about the different islands, and hearing the performances. We also attended their daily canoe show, with a lot of dancing on big, flat canoes, and rode on a tour canoe from one side of the center to the other. At 5:00 we attended a luau with dinner, which was pretty decent. The highlight for me was the female fire-dancer—so nice to see a girl doing it!! Like Hawaii seems defined by female hula dancers and male fire-dancers, so seeing a girl twirling fire was a-mazing.

And then there was the final event, the Ha — Breath of Life ceremony, filled with storytelling told through dancing and acting and more shirtless men than I’ve ever seen outside a swimming pool, and it was a-freaking-mazing. They of course had a fire-dancing show where I counted 9 guys twirling fire on stage at the same time, and one who did two sticks at once, and it was just aaaaggh so cool.

I don’t think I’d visit the villages again for some time, though I appreciate all the effort those students and staff put into them every single day. But I’d definitely visit the Breath of Life ceremony again soon!

Snorkeling, Rain, and Swimming

When we stayed in Honolulu seven years ago, I hardly went into the ocean at all, so this trip was all about the water. The biggest thing we had planned was a Dolphin Excursions tour where you can snorkel in the ocean and see dolphins. Having never really snorkeled before, we wanted to practice before the big day. Our rental place in Kaaawa was right next to calmer waters thanks to a reef that caused the bigger waves to break farther out. So, perfect for noobs.

Our rental had some snorkel stuff, so out we went. What followed was a great deal of time spent on equipment: leaking masks, cold water and me needing to put on a wetsuit that I hadn’t worn in ten years, me needing a swim cap to cover my ears, clearing sand from our water shoes...took a while, but we got it down. I was worried I’d struggle to breathe through my mouth, but as soon as I stuck my head underwater, it was awesome not having to come back up for air! My mask still leaked a tad so I would just stand up in the shallow water every couple of minutes, and the snorkel mouthpiece was way too big for my small mouth, but it was a great experience. I loved seeing the ocean floor.

Clayton took some pics with our underwater camera on the second day of snorkeling, when it was a little warmer:

In fact, I was quickly hooked on snorkeling—just not the equipment. We had no flippers that fit me, and I really wanted a mouthpiece that wouldn’t make my mouth hurt so much. I also yearned for hotter weather; we snorkeled on two different days in Kaaawa, and it rained on us both times. I wasn’t wearing my wetsuit the second time and got chilly pretty fast. It’s fascinating though when it rains, to see and feel the drops on the surface, only to escape them completely underwater.

Before we left Kaaawa, we did chill on the beach, watching the little sand crabs creep towards the tide for food and then zip away super fast. In fact, the first day we went out, I kept stepping on buried crabs in the wet sand and they’d shoot out from under my feet, making me jump every time. They were like sand spiders ;) but without the phobia. We swam in the waves until we lost our sun, then bid the beach aloha.

Hiking Diamond Head Crater

Not much to say about this hike. We got to the top in 40 minutes, and the view of Honolulu and the ocean was incredible. I kind of wish that we’d hiked more inland instead, but at the time I was really tired, and there’d been rain and I didn’t feel like hiking through mud or wet nature. I’d read that this hike was dry and not too difficult. Next time, we’ll give the nature hikes a go.

Spot the parking lot in the middle of the volcano

Western Hotter Side in Waianae, Oahu

I totally recommend staying on both sides of the island to get a taste of Oahu as a whole. In rainy Kaaawa, I very much missed the sun, but the mountains were lush and green. And we weren’t in Waianae very long before I realized how the nice overcast weather of Kaaawa was like the most perfect weather ever. Waianae is very hot in comparison, and far more brown. But I’d been aching for my sun.

We stayed in a ground-floor condo of a place called the Hawaiian Princess. It’s a bit removed from most of Hawaii. We think it may have once been a gem, but seems a little on the older side now. There were no amenities, really, or nearby places to eat, so we don’t think we’ll stay there again. But the view from the place was jaw-dropping.

Clayton and the sunset

We had one more day to practice snorkeling, so we used this place’s snorkel stuff and set out for Makaha Beach, which was nearby and known for spotting turtles. Once again, we spent a ton of time trying to make the masks and snorkels work right. (Next time we snorkel, we are renting our own!!) So much so that I almost gave up entirely. But after swimming in the waves with only my goggles, I just had to try again.

By the end, we were snorkeling for long periods of time over deep waters. It’s a freaky feeling. You’re there floating on the waves, up and down, up and down, with the ocean floor some ways beneath you. You try not to think about the depth. But it’s also so, so cool to see places in the ocean as they are, with your own eyes. Unfortunately, Clayton’s mask was too foggy for him to see much. So we finally headed back to shore, which I found exhausting. (Note: we did not have flippers. After snorkeling at the dolphin excursion with flippers, I can tell you, they make a HUGE difference in snorkeling. Wear flippers!)

We snorkeled out a couple more times until at last, my body went ‘kay girl, get outta the sun, now now now. I felt so sun sick. We’d left our phones so we had no idea how long we’d been in the exposed sun. Turns out, for 3 hours. And we didn’t re-apply sunscreen.

Thankfully Clayton could function, so he drove us into town to get food and cold water. Then we drove back to our condo, where we saw that every part of me not covered by the swimsuit was red. My upper back and shoulders had been hurting for a long time, and kept hurting and hurting. Clayton was burned too but not as bad. Ugh, a typical rookie mistake that we will not make again! We spent the rest of the evening rubbing Aloe Vera on each other.

!!!Snorkeling with Spinner Dolphins!!!

Okay, “with” is a bit of a strong word, but still. Dolphin Excursions in Waianae had come with a guarantee to see dolphins and I was stoked, though a tad concerned about all our bad burns. My upper back was bordering on severe for a sunburn. We did a morning aloe session before driving 5 minutes to the place, where they provided masks, snorkels, flippers, and life jackets. Clayton and I also rented wetsuits. I did because I like the ability to jump into the ocean without going into shock from the cold, and Clayton did to protect his sunburns. Then we were on the boat and off!

A crew of four women led our Dolphin Excursions tour. One was a photographer. They drove us all the way up the western side of Oahu, and past the cliffside point that joins the north and west sides. They had to drive a long ways—we learned later that it’s really rare for them to have to go so far out into the ocean in order to find the dolphins.

So many dolphins!

Ooh humans

But find them, they did. With my own eyes, I saw dozens of dolphins surfacing for air, and several babies. They are breathtaking. I have loved dolphins all my life, and that experience alone was incredible. But we didn’t stop there! A short ways from them, we lined up on the side of the boat and jumped into the water one by one. That gave us a minute or so of just being able to make the dolphins out in the deep ocean water before they swam away. That was a bit of an introduction, said the tour ladies. I’m grateful for that test because my snorkel was leaking, and that gave them a chance to replace it before we tried the real sightseeing. We climbed into the boat, moved closer, and came in again.

(Note: we were so worried about sunburns and not knowing what to expect that we forgot our underwater camera. I tried to find pics from the photographer that matched what I experienced.)

And oh my gosh, we swam with dolphins. All swimming deeper than us surface floaters, mostly keeping their distance around us but staying just close enough to be visible in the thick blue ocean.

EPIC MOMENT: I had just lifted my face out of the water after watching some dolphins swim away when one of the tour ladies came up to me, pointing to make sure I saw them. Suddenly she pointed more frantically down, and when I didn’t quite respond, she reached out and tipped my head completely down and THERE WERE LIKE 20+ DOLPHINS SWIMMING RIGHT BENEATH US. I literally shrieked in absolute surprise and delight. Guys, guys. Go swim with dolphins. I love dolphins.

After they swam away, we showed them our thanks by getting out of their territory, heading to the boat, and saying good-bye. I spent the next part of the boating trip seeking the shade, drinking water, and trying to fight off more heat sickness. The shade really helped.

The crew took us most of the way back before we jumped in for one more excursion, this time to see a reef with lots of fish and hopefully a turtle. I must say, the underwater world as we saw it was blue and a little bit blurry, but fish are colorful all the same. A school of yellow fish swam so close to me that I could have dived down and swam eye-level with them if I didn’t have my life vest on.

Right near the end, I still hadn’t seen a turtle—Clayton had barely seen one, down far in the blue blurry ravine—when the photographer, a ways out, raised her hands high to indicate she could see a turtle. Clayton and I started towards her. I won’t lie, swimming across the waves is not so easy at first. Sometimes a wave would knock into me so hard that it felt like another snorkeler had just hit me or something. I tried using my arms, but that failed, and finally I realized the best way for me to swim was to put my arms together and just kick my flippers. It’s incredible how fast you can go with those things.

Flippers or no, I didn’t think I was going to make it to her. The waves were big and I was worn out and it seemed like she was moving farther, faster, away from me. But I got there in the end, for suddenly to my shock, the huge turtle came into view. She was a beauty. Apparently, her kind is very rare, though I don’t know more details than that. I followed her for a while, kicking my flippers enough to stay with her until I was almost swimming over her. But I didn’t want to scare her, and finally bid her good-bye on my way back to the boat.

When we reached land again, we ate lunch and headed back to our rental, where Clayton and I spent most of our time relaxing and trying not to touch our sunburns.

We Love Hawaii

The whole thing was so great. To take a break from life, from work and parenting, and to spend time with each other on an island and beaches. We’d like to go back someday where we’ll try to do a lot more hiking and snorkeling, maybe even on some other islands. And Rina—we love you forever!

'Til our next Aloha

When Gratitude and Anxiety Collide

I’m writing this because writing is therapeutic for me, and I really need some therapy in my life right now.

And because I have no pictures related to anything in this post, I will henceforth share random pics of my children.

This has been the hardest move-in we’ve ever had. I mean, the actual “moving in” of our stuff went great. When you’re only moving 15 minutes away (with no traffic), and you’re in no rush (since we had an entire week to move) while you shuttle most of your stuff around in bits and pieces, then it’s not so bad. (Until you start living in your new home and realize you really do need like, everything, and bits and pieces just don’t work until they’re whole again.) But stillllll, this keeps things low on the stress spectrum.

We also had lots of help—help from kind sturdy men as wives sacrificed their husbands for the morning, and help from Clayton’s sister who took charge of our little ducklings from the moment she woke up at our house. She paved the way for Clayton and I to pack, load, unload, and deal with the first day-and-a-half in our new house in peace. Well, more like in child-free chaos, which I guess could be called peaceful chaos? We owe her a shrine.

On other matters of positive feely things, we felt really good about moving to Fremont, and to this home and area. Even thinking about it now, I feel excited. I know it’s where we’re supposed to be. I know it so well that I should have been worried that I knew it so well right from the start, because that probably meant I’d really need the assurance later when things went awry—and awry they went. I have also been filled with gratitude, because to rent what we’re renting in an expensive place like the Bay Area, and for Clayton’s work to bus their employees so he doesn’t have to make the awful 60+ minute commute behind the wheel himself twice a day every day, is nothing short of blessings and miracles and everything that has contributed to this time in our lives. We are extremely grateful.

But I’ve learned that even a grateful heart can be cracked by anxiety and a heavy load.

The broken heater (thermostat)
It began with the heater. To even mention this makes me feel like a true Californian flinching away from the slightest chill, and yes, during all this time I was, and still am, grateful to live in a place where the highs are in the 50s and the lows don’t drop below the 30s in wintertime. I am a fully-certified wuss in the cold and have been such I hit puberty. (In case you’re wondering.) My toes, fingers, and ears are extremely vulnerable. I walk around with cold feet and hands even in the summertime. In winter, I warm my hands constantly before changing my littlest ones because I don’t want them to have nightmares about their mother’s freezing fingers coming for them in the night.

Anyway, the heater did not work. But the fan worked and was running the entire time we moved in. Once the heat of labor faded from our bodies, the chill set in. I had thought the fan was the heater, and quickly switched it for the heater in my shock, but it was a no-go. I was already wearing gloves and soon added a pair of fuzzy socks over my normal ones. When evening came, I huddled on the couch under blankets with Rina, our coughing Ariana, Brielle, and runny-nose Levi. I think the house was in the low 60s (it was for sure 61 when we went to bed that night). We were saved by the owner of the house, who the previous tenants did not inform about this non-functioning heater, and brought us several space heaters.

Turns out, it was the thermostat. Three days later, it’s been fixed and I am soooo grateful. I am a miserable, grumpy person when I’m cold, and I don’t really function, which is bad when you’ve just moved and half your life is lying around in boxes.

**Side note: Our Coughing Ariana**
The best way for children to play in a new place is to run around. Well, when you’ve got a cough, you just can’t. Ariana would run for two minutes and get a coughing fit, then have to sit on the couch with her blanket. She’s been coughing her lungs since Monday, and has been on the couch so often that she’s bored of the couch and movies and has firmly learned one of life’s saddest lessons: “Mom, being sick is the worst.” Thus, we have been largely confined to this house, instead of enjoying the many parks surrounding us or even going out for walks in the sun. No escape…

The non-flushing upstairs toilets
In a house with three toilets, the two upstairs weren’t flushing, one of which was running non-stop because the shut-off valve wasn’t working. Thankfully we had the third downstairs. This wasn’t much of a problem until I finally got my chilly butt off the couch to use this life-saving toilet, and asked Ariana if she had to go, but she said no cuz she’s a young child, and lo and behold when she got up off the couch five minutes later cuz her movie ended (bad timing, Mom), she found her bladder desperate with no other toilet to use and just let it go. (This is the first time she’s had an accident in the house in two years.) Thankfully, the toilets were fixed the next day.

**Timing**
The owner of this place has been great to respond to our concerns, which really gives us peace of mind. The trickiest part of all this was having to be home while the owner and repair guys came and went during the day. So we couldn’t do our second moving-truck run until after dinner, and weird things happened with dinner so we didn’t eat until 8:00pm and then kids went to bed and we did our moving and didn’t finish up until 1:00am. The second day, we wanted to register Ariana for school while Rina was there so we wouldn’t have to deal with three little kids sitting in an office for 45+ minutes being told over and over not to climb on the chairs. But we couldn’t go in the morning due to repairs, and we literally managed to finish Ari’s registration at the last possible second before needing to rush back home and take Rina to the airport. (This meant stress. There was much stress. Registering kids for school is stressful enough.)

The leaking washer hose
The owner suspects the previous tenants had had a plumbing thing replaced at one point and it was done incorrectly. So the washer hose was leaking. He kind of told us about this, but that was on the first day we moved stuff in before the big move-in, so I either thought it wasn’t a big deal or it was going to be fixed. Turns out, it was supposed to be fixed, but it was never mentioned again and everyone forgot. Thus, when Ariana had run out of clean pants (kids go through pants like crazy), I decided to do the laundry. Turns out the washer hose was still leaking, so we couldn’t do it. (And then the next morning, Brielle leaked on her bed. We didn’t potty train her before the move, but mark my words, her pull-up days are numbered!)

I came in from the garage to report the leak to Clayton and my hands were shaking. Then I burst into tears. I wasn’t angry, just desperate and broken and anxious. I was constantly anxious about everything, my brain rushing from need to need to every single thing I had to unpack and move and clean and deal with in this house, and to figuring out how to manage Ari’s new school and the less convenient ways they handle things.

The space heaters were tripping the breakers
I got through my little panic attack all right, but the next morning greeted me with a tripped breaker and a cold space heater. The cold did not help the emotions still crushed and gnarled inside of me, and I just could not get out of bed. I would snuggle my face into the warm blankets and war with myself about facing a day of discomfort and anxiety. I was starting to grow tired and numb and shut down into survival mode. I went to the store with Brielle and Levi after dropping Ariana off at school, and that went pretty well, then came home to repairmen waiting (unannounced) outside the house so they could fix the washer, the final valve on a toilet, and the faucet in the downstairs bathtub that was too tight to pull on or push off.

The lint-choked dryer
The washer was gross with grime and dust from years of no cleaning, so I cleaned it before using it. I knew I’d have to clean the dryer too, but severely underestimated how much it needed—so severely in fact, that I did a load of laundry in the newly fixed washer before looking at the dryer. Big mistake.

Apparently the renters of 5 years before us did not know how to clean a lint filter. Right off, I saw that the bottom of the door and the filter were covered in lint. I cleaned the outside of the dryer, cleaned the lint filter, cleaned the door...and looked into the lint trap. Oh my gosh, it was awful. Just a nest of lint overflowing through any opening you could find. I kindly asked Clayton if he could find a way to open the trap so we could get that crud out of there, but he couldn’t find a way, and my sweet amazing husband spent an hour trying other ways to do it. The vacuum could not suck it out, and we didn’t have any good sticks (not that they were guaranteed to defeat an army of lint). I’m still not sure what Clayton did, but in the end he displaced the army and we threw it away. Then we loaded the dryer with wet clothes and turned it on.

Cue the burning smell. Defeated.

Thus we sat, with a basket of wet clothes beside us (the laundromats were closed for the night), stunned that we had had an issue nearly every single day of being here. We’re rather terrified of what else we may find. Yet we’re still grateful to be here, for what we have, and that the owner has taken care of us. I’m just praying the unwanted surprises will take a break long enough for me to feel sane and normal again.

Can’t wait until we’re the ones owning a house and fixing all this stuff ourselves! …. sarcasm. Kinda. I do want to own a house. But not with the prices here. Erfphg.

A Child's Forgiving Love

We humans have a fear of failure.

We fear failing in our jobs. We fear failing in our relationships—saying the wrong thing, sending the wrong message, or losing those we care about. We fear loneliness, but fear to fail at finding someone who might care about us. We fear failing to do the right thing at the time. We fear failing because of our natural weaknesses.

Parents have a fear of failing their children. We fear not measuring up, or doing enough, or being enough. We fear that our mistakes will cost them in some way, or that our negative qualities will reflect back at us in these younger versions of ourselves. We fear messing up their futures. We fear the hurtful words of family or strangers who comment on our failures.

The truth is, everyone will fail over and over. Perfection is not achievable. We’re mortal and we’re limited, unable to remember enough at once, do enough, or be enough of what we believe we should be doing and being. But the pressures are still there, from those around us and from ourselves.

Enter . . . children.

Children can be difficult, especially young children, which I currently have. They can be draining, frustrating, maddening. They lack a lot of reasoning skills and the ability to deal with their big emotions. They can freak out when you don’t open their granola bar in just the right way.

But children are something special. They’re not just super cute, or snuggly, quick learners, or really imaginative. They’re also remarkable at loving and forgiving. You give them love, and they reward you with forgiveness when you mess up. The rest of the world might be judging you, and making sure you know that you failed, but your child will love you and they’ll let you know it too.

There are days when I struggle to manage my emotions any better than they. Sometimes I rage. I flip out and yell. Then the tears come, and my children--who seconds ago were stressed, confused, unhappy--are instantly at my side, rubbing and patting my back, giving me hugs and telling me it’ll be okay. They forget that I yelled; they forget my angry words. And on those days when we have a big fight, we come back to each other and say we’re sorry. Our nighttimes are still filled with hugs and love and laughter.

A loved child is an instant forgiver. They don’t put pressure on us. They don’t ask us to make sure they grow up to be the smartest, fastest, most talented human ever. They don’t ask us for perfection. They just want love, even when they themselves fail—especially then. And there’s no one better to learn how to love and forgive from, than them.

Updates on the California Watts Folk

We’ve hit the 6-month mark of our California adventure! We’re enjoying low utilities, beautiful weather, less poisonous spiders, birds singing all the day long, and blossoming flowers. We’ve visited the Redwoods of Henry Cowell State Park, Pier 39 in San Francisco, Myrtle Beach, and the Children’s Discovery Museum. Oh, and the Googleplex, which was mostly sorta interesting.

There’s lots more to see, and we’ll get there--eventually! Right now we spend most of our Saturdays recuperating from the week. That’s what raising three young humans will do to you.

How’s Clayton doing?
Clayton is happy working on his mini-team of the Google Translate team. The sheer size of Google presents programmers with quite the learning curve, so he has spent most of the recent months learning, learning, learning. But he likes learning and being a part of it all. (I also want to add that out of the four other people on his mini-team, three are women! Including his boss! So cool.)

When at home, Clayton is either playing with our children or working on his latest nerdy project--in this case, the robot I bought for his birthday! As in, first I searched for robots online, then searched for robots for people who aren’t newbies, then finally gave up and told him, “Hey, I’m buying you a robot for your birthday, surprise! You get to pick it out.” So he bought a robot that came in pieces, and lots of LOTS of little wires, and put it together. It’s very programmable, with lots of features to add, so he’ll be tinkering with this little guy for a long time. His love of rockets is also still going strong and we watch the SpaceX launches online whenever we can.

Just call me Wires

How’s Shauna doing?
Well, I’m loving the weather and our yard, which tempts the girls outside at least every other day and they’ll play for hours (when they’re not cranky and fighting over everything).

Clayton and I are working on a schedule that will allow me to work on writing my story at least a couple times a week, if not more. We bought Scrivener, a program just for writers, and not only has it stoked my creative fire, it’s showed me that I’m barely halfway done with my book. (Yikes!) I mean, I have scenes I still need to write, but I have lots more I need to figure out too. I’m hoping to make progress with our new schedule, which relies on me staying on top of dinner all by myself each day...not my strong point, but at least I’m greatly motivated!

Then there’s my health. I’m tired, I don’t eat healthy often enough, and I’m not exercising. Going on walks and runs is something else we’re trying to incorporate into our lives. Exercising is my miracle juice, boosting both my energy and my appetite. We’ll make it happen!

How’s Ariana doing?

We received a letter confirming Ariana’s school for Transitional Kindergarten in the fall! It’s a school ten minutes away, and she’ll be doing half-day in the mornings. Her new schedule is gonna rock my mornings. I’ve been preparing mentally for these mornings for a while now, but putting all that prep into practice is gonna take time. I still remember needing an alarm clock for school when I was in elementary. (Translation: not a morning person.)

But she is SO excited. She’s excited for friends and she’s excited to learn. She’s still not in preschool, which I regret only because she just longs for that social learning and interaction. Academically, Ari’s doing great--she’s reading! One of my favorite times of the day is helping her through a book after Levi and Brielle go down for naps. She even brought a few books with her during one of our trips for a Walmart grocery pickup. She reads the backs of cereal boxes, the names of episodes on her shows, and the brand names of random items on our dinner table. She loves words and has tried her hand at spelling too. (She’s a good sport whenever she’s written a bunch of words and then neither she nor I can decipher them later.)

Ariana likes to help me make dinner, clean, put away laundry, or any odd thing she thinks she can do. She loves to play with her brother Levi, and has that typical love-hate sibling relationship with Brielle. She loves making up stories and songs. She also loves artsy things, like painting or molding play-doh. She’s a good eater and awesome sleeper. She still loves to play chase or hide-and-seek, and is very competitive.

The biggest thing we’re working on is helping her through tantrums, which are all-consuming and almost always strike if she’s past her hungry or tired tolerance levels. We know those triggers and try to avoid them, but it isn’t always possible. They’ve been hard to get through, but as she’s getting older, they are gradually getting better and she’s able to pull herself out of them a little bit faster.

How’s Brielle doing?

Brielle is going through those phases that always accompany the early years of humanhood. When she’s cranky, she seems to torture everyone, especially her siblings. But when she’s happy, she’s content doing almost anything--playing with toys by herself, playing with Ari, playing with Levi, playing outside, sitting on the couch listening to Mommy’s soundtrack music, or just jamming to her favorite song on the toy piano. She’s a pretty good eater, albeit still has moments where she doesn’t want to eat just...because. She takes good naps most days. Although, because of those naps, she hits her tired hour way after Ariana does. Sometimes Brielle will still be awake an hour after we put them to bed, just singing quietly to herself, while Ariana is completely out.

Brielle has her own personality and says the funniest things at the funniest moments. However, she’s still very much in mimic mode. Sometimes she imitates Ariana down to her exact words and actions. It’s funny when she tries to imitate Ariana’s reading and mumbles in her own little language. I think it bugged Ari at first, but now she’s gotten used to it, and I as a parent have tried hard to make them both feel loved. Brielle loves playing with Levi, but isn’t afraid to take advantage of her being bigger than him. Most of the time that they’re in the same room together, and he starts crying, it’s because Brielle took something or pushed him. But she does love him, and tries to comfort him when he’s crying (when she’s not the one who caused it).

In fact, Brielle is our little sweetheart right now--the one who always runs up to Daddy when he comes home, and Mommy when she appears from a nap, with big hugs. Ariana does this too, but not nearly as often, because she’s a four-year-old who’s too big for such displays. ;) Brielle is less techie than Ari was at this age, and the few times she showed interest in the tablet or the controller for Netflix, she just got frustrated and gave up.

The biggest thing we’re working on with Brielle is potty training; she did really good for a while at going Number 1 in the potty, but her Number 2 was so bad, and I was so tired and not emotionally ready to deal with it, that I backtracked and put her in pull-ups too often. Now we’re back at square one. I’m planning on letting her run around in the backyard with no undies sometime until she finally dumps her load in the potty. Crossing my fingers that it’ll work!

How’s Levi doing?

Levi is just a happy guy. It’s SO easy to make him smile and laugh. Whenever he’s feeling a little tired, or sick, or simply clingy, then I’ll give him a pacifier and just hold him in my lap, and it’s the best feeling ever. He loves his Daddy and sisters. His favorite things to do are run around pushing his walker thing, play outside, and crawl like a madman towards his favorite forbidden places if they’ve been left open (the bathroom, the stairs).

Levi has eczema, and it was pretty bad before the pediatrician prescribed a stronger form of hydrocortisone. It’s especially bad along his legs. Curiously enough, Brielle has it in patches on her legs too, and I don’t remember noticing them when she was younger. But the hydrocortisone works wonders and we’re going to buy a daily cream to keep it under control. Besides that, he’s in great shape. He was taking one long nap from 1:00-4:00 for a while, but if anything compromises his sleep or he gets sick, he goes back to napping at 11:00 and takes two naps for the day. He sleeps great at night.

He’s walking! So, I originally wrote this post a week ago. At the time, he could walk, but it wasn’t his preferred mode of moving around. He’d try to walk really fast and, well, you can’t run before you walk. But he’s gotten it down now and is starting to walk everywhere, much to the delight of his sisters. Levi also communicates really well. He gestures to what he wants to eat or when he wants his sippy cup, and is very clear in letting me know when he’s tired or still hungry. He pays close attention to my expressions whenever he does something that he suspects is either good or naughty.

The biggest thing we’re working on with Levi is FOOD. He’s really picky. Again, when I first wrote this post, he was absolutely refusing to eat bread--would spit it out as soon as it touched his lips. Since then, I’ve successfully fed bread to him twice by coating the little chunks in peanut butter and jam! Hurray! He really likes jam. We’re trying to wean him off baby food, especially because his appetite is rapidly growing. I feel like some mornings I spend the whole time just feeding him!

Chilaxin'

It’s the life
Overall we’re a bit on the tired side, which is something we’re working to improve. We need to change our routines anyway to be ready for Ariana’s school in the fall. But we’re enjoying the weather and our family. We’re enjoying meeting new people, including people from other backgrounds and cultures, and also people who have come from lower cost-of-living states and share with us this interesting predicament of living in a beautiful place far from family where no one can afford to buy a house. Even with some adjusting that still needs to happen, we’re happy to be here.

My faithful vacuum helpers

The loves of my life, hypnotized

Musings on Little Humans and Their Eating Preferences

I am a notoriously picky, boring eater. People with a passion for food find my case most tragic. Yet, while I’m not the most proactive in choking down healthy stuff that I don’t like, I was always determined not to let my children suffer the same fate. With a husband who could happily eat a meal made entirely of vegetables, I knew my kids had a chance.

We figured little humans developed their eating styles the same way they develop everything else: with a mixture of their own innate uniqueness, and their environment. So we’d do our part in exposing them to all sorts of stuff. Of course, this only works if they have a parent to emulate who eats all this stuff, so that’s where Daddy comes in.

Fast forward to three children later, and I can tell you that when it comes to food, the “innate uniqueness” of these little people is just laughing at us--all the time. You think you have their favorite foods figured out, and then one day it changes for no reason. Top that off with childhood quirks like rebelling against a certain food just for kicks and giggles, and feeding kids becomes an endeavor both hilarious and depressing.

Oh, they ate sandwich meat yesterday with no problem? Well, today it’s their worst nightmare.

Every child likes Macaroni and Cheese? Well, this child does--as a squishy plaything! Now it’s all over her clothes AND she still needs something else to eat.

Bananas will enchant your child long enough for you to start buying more of them, and then she’ll want nothing to do with them.

Those are just a tiny few of the crazy examples out there. But hey, at least this craziness helps stimulate creative approaches to tricking and bribing your children. I mean, all in the name of healthy eating, right?

Let’s get a kick out of my kids’ eating habits thus far:

Ariana:

• HATED baby food
• Didn’t like french fries, rice, or potatoes at first, but would eat pasta
• Likes most fruits and veggies
• Likes desserts and candy, but not chocolate chip cookies
• Loves breads and rolls
• Kinda likes peanut butter and jam; prefers Mayo and turkey meat

Brielle:

• Didn’t like baby food
• Didn’t like pasta at first, but would eat french fries, potatoes, and rice
• Loves fruit, likes most veggies
• Loves everything sweet--all the yum-yums
• HATES hot dogs and sandwich meat
• Hates any type of bread unless it has peanut butter and jam on it

Levi:

• LOVED baby food
• Likes french fries, potatoes, and rice, and pasta sometimes
• HATES bread, and anything soft and crumbly. (Even cake almost.)
• Loves fruit, kinda likes the few veggies he can eat right now
• Hates peanut butter, loves jam

This looks and feels suspiciously like bread...

Ugh, it was! Kind of. What did I just eat??

In other words, what kids do and don't eat comes from a crazy conglomeration of their personal preferences, toddler quirks, and what they see the grown-ups eat. As long as my kids are bouncing off the walls by day and sleeping well at night, I'm happy.

Mother, Queen of the Realm

I was talking with my mom on the phone when something popped out of me that, while an exaggeration, carried truth I hadn’t considered before: “Sometimes I feel that by the time my kids are all in school, my life will be over. I won’t be young anymore.”

Now, I do know life’s not over after the age of 35. I think these thoughts came from a place of feeling stuck. With college and my 20’s in the past, and my days of having babies not far behind them, I keep feeling like the next big step in life should be coming. Anytime now.

Truth is, that step is already here, as a stay-at-home mom of little ones. It just feels, sometimes, like that step didn’t take me far enough.

Being the good mom that she is, my mom gave advice and sent some quotes. Like:

“The formative period for building character for eternity is in the nursery. The mother is queen of that realm and sways a scepter more potent than that of kings or priests.” ~Author Unknown

Thinking of myself as Mother, Queen of My Realm of Tiny Watts Humans, does lift my spirits. Let’s take a look at my realm:

My realm is theirs.

My realm belongs to my little subjects. While I can squeeze more hobbies into my life, and exercise after the rainy season to boost my zombified energy, my time is still theirs--keeping them alive, playing, loving, teaching, correcting behaviors, comforting, and just being there. It’s all for them.

My realm is a paradox. 

If I could choose to do anything with my life, I’d stay at home with my little ones. I’d choose it again and again. I’m especially grateful I can make that choice, for not all can.

At the same time, my breaks from the kids are always refreshing. My sanity is often obliterated by the time Clayton gets home, and after a “welcome home” kiss and hug, I’m off to hide in my room before I have to make dinner. It would be amazing if I could have just two hours of kid-free time each day.

I’m often torn between speeding up their abilities so they can do more on their own, and wanting to encase them in their cute ages forever like a snow globe.

My realm is precious.

The three subjects in my realm communicate with cute sounds, cute words, and cute actions. They love laughing and playing with the Queen and King, to whom they have given their complete trust. They go about their day with all the innocence of a butterfly clinging to a flower under a golden sunset.

Little fingers grasp mine, little bums squeeze onto my lap. My day is filled with little voices, little teardrops, and the tickling of little feet of little people with big hearts. All they need is love and care, and my subjects will grow and thrive.

My realm will not last.

This is how Brielle smiles for pictures

Though I yearn for that time when most of my children are in school, I also strive to treasure those precious moments. I hold my baby Levi close and breathe him in every day, for the time will come when I will no longer remember him as a baby.

I snuggle my sweet two-year-old Brielle, for someday I won’t remember her at this adorable stage. I hug my four-year-old Ariana and listen to her songs and stories, for I won’t always remember her as a toddler--and I’ve already forgotten what she was like when she was Levi’s and Brielle’s ages.

Now is the time to soak in their adorable spirits, sweet innocence, and never-ending love.

It’s a time to remind myself that I’m Mother, Queen of My Realm of Tiny Watts Humans. Or simply Mommy, as I’m known to my subjects.

Thirty, Nerdy, and Striving

I AM THIRTY.

I’m grateful to be thirty. I am alive, and whole. I have a home, food, and warmth. I have loved ones.

But I sure don’t like saying I’m thirty. It looks even worse as “30.” Ugh.

When I was a teenager, I remember the adults saying they didn’t feel their age. Moms and Dads didn’t feel middle-aged as those years came upon them. Grandmas and Grandpas didn’t feel like the seniors they were. I couldn’t possibly comprehend what they meant, but I always believed them. And I was a little afraid of being in their positions because it sounded kinda crazy.

I tell ya, thirty is the magical mark when you start to understand. I don’t feel like I’ve been alive for three decades. I’m still the same me from those earlier years, just wrapped in more layers of experience. That’s really all that being thirty means: you’ve just been adulting for a while, congratulations!

Haha Mom, you're 30!

I was excited for my twenties. The twenties would be these exciting years where I’d be young, fresh, and carving my own path. Of course, even young adulting is still adulting; I wasn’t handed a free ticket to life. But I’m super grateful for my upbringing, which gave me a great chance at working hard and seeking opportunities.

And I loved my twenties. I mean, they can pretty much be summed up by college, marriage, and having babies, but they were more than that. I tried new things, learned new things. I screwed up and have regrets. I forged new relationships. I got to know myself and found my groove. Then babies came and I had to find myself all over again.

Now my twenties are forever in the past, locked away in memory.

So how’s life as a thirty-year-old parent? Well, most of my relaxing, creative, and thinking time comes in the two-and-half hours after the kids go to sleep. I write, or Clayton and I play games or watch movies together. Or we read and watch things about space. Yes, lots of outer space stuff around here. We also binge-watch Les Miserables in its movie and concert forms every other year. Sometimes those few evening hours are not enough for me to recharge, and by the end of the week, I’m a bit spent. Saturdays are for sleeping.

Looking ahead--but not too far ahead because that’s where the forties lurk, and oh man, can’t even go there right now--my goals are to help our kids thrive, to write a book someday, to go on more runs after the rain’s moved on, and to get enough rest during the week that we can go exploring on the weekends.

In the meantime, I’m just a thirty-year-old drawing pictures of chalk rainbows on the driveway, sculpting princesses with weird-looking eyes out of modeling clay, and shaking my hips to Disney songs. The kids keep me young.

I’m glad to be thirty. Maybe not . . . 30 . . . yet. ;) But life is good.