toasted coconut are my favorite

While we were in Michigan, my sister hired a personal trainer to come to the house and give us a workout.  The personal trainer's name was Duncan and he was chiseled. 

The first day that he came by, I was eagerly thinking, "I can do this ... I can so totally do this!" so I did it and the next day I couldn't really do much of anything except breathe because every inch of me hurt.  The next time Duncan came to the house, I'd been up the night before thinking I might die from a raging virus, so I took a pass on bringing that thought of dying to fruition right there on my sister's front lawn.  As for the rest of the group, they subjected themselves to another round of torture while my mother and I sat in comfy chairs and took pictures.  Here's the group is scrambling as fast as they could up and down the hill like crabs. Oh, this might look easy enough ... but trust me, it's not. Especially the 12th time you do it.



Here's the group with beach towels, saturated with lake water, that they had to vigorously swing around...



... and then toss to each other.



The first group started to run in the water - raising their knees above the water line, while the second group had to pick up the pace on their towel saturation - throwing exercise, before shifting locations with the first group.



Then they ran around the sand, sped walk across the dock, jumped in to the water, and did some kind of alternating exercise of jumping and swishing before they did another lap.



They dug deep holes in the sand using their forearms, and then made piles of sand in a circular motion, before smoothing it out and digging more holes, 'round and 'round.



After 45 straight minutes of this fitness fun, they wrapped it up by doing several dozen donkey kicks and jump push-ups in the water.



When they finished everyone showed off their biceps and shouted, "Bodies by Duncan!!" So I held up my not-quite-so-impressive bicep and shouted back, "I have a body by Dunkin, too. DUNKIN DONUTS!" 

It was quite funny at the time, but now it sounds kind of pathetic.

the family with 12 red shoes

What can I say ... the shoe store was having a big sale and now our whole family has a pair of red Vans.  Next, we'll be buying matching skateboards.

and the moon did shine

For the past several years, my mother and Jim have rented a beach-front condo in Florida. The condo immediately next door is owned by a couple, Kate and Rich, and each year during the winter months - they lend the condo to Kate's mother and stepfather, so they can escape the chilly Connecticut winters.



My Mom and Jim are very close friends with Kate's mother and stepfather...



While my sister, Eileen, and her husband, Clark, have become best of friends with Kate and Rich.





They've forged such a strong friendship, that Kate and Rich have traveled to Michigan several times for various parties and events that Eileen and Clark have hosted.  Their travels for the 4th of July were the third (or fourth) time that they've been to my sister and brother-in-law's house in three years.

Kate and Rich are a fun, fun couple.



They're a sampling of some of our friends who are living an intentionally child-free existence and have traveled extensively around the world and are enjoying life and each other, as much as possible.  Now I mention this because on or about Day 3 of our trip to Michigan, Eileen informed us that Charlie and Rich would be having a Pizza Cook-Off and all the people in attendance, over the age of 10, were to serve as the judges.



Charlie loves to cook and is quite good at it.



Rich also loves to cook and he is quite good at it, too.  The difference between the cooking skills of these two men is that one cooks in order to serve food as quickly as possible to four constantly hungry children ... whereas the other has been known to take several days off from work (three to be exact) so he could perfect a specific dish.



And that specific dish turned out to be his fig, date, chicken, broccoli, goat cheese pizza and while I was unsure how exactly this would turn out .... Sweet Caroline, it wound up being the best pizza I've ever tasted in my life.



Now for a quick backstory... 

When I first met Charlie he was running for the President of the Geology Club and was telling people that he was buying votes. As a poor college student, I was completely broke so I told him that of course I'd vote for him ... if the price was right.  We both laughed because he wasn't actually serious about the bribe, and I wasn't actually serious about my vote.  You see, I'd promised my vote to Charlie's opponent - this student named Adam - who I'd met earlier in the day when he asked if I'd vote for him and I'd already told him yes.

If I recall correctly, there were around 100 people that voted on that election. And on the day of the election, when they tallied up all the votes, Charlie wound up with 98 and Adam wound up with 2.  Charlie won on the premise that he was the coolest guy in the Department, he was smart, handsome, outgoing, funny, athletic, and an all-around respectful gentleman.  He was Captain of the Softball team, financed the pizza parties after every game, and threw outrageous Halloween parties. Adam was a nice enough guy, but he was no Charlie. 

I'd never divulged to the man who would become my boyfriend, fiancé, husband and father to my children that my vote was promised to someone else.  Until ... the first night of our honeymoon.



Charlie and I were sitting at a romantic candlelit dinner on Nantucket Island, reminiscing about how we first met and fell in love.  Charlie told me that he fell in love the moment he laid eyes on me when he was bribing people for votes.  And I told him that I fell in love the minute I watched the way he interacted with people. Then we talked about the election and my new husband speculated on the results.  He pondered aloud, "I've always wondered who the other person was that voted for Adam. I mean, I know he was one of the votes ... but who was the second?"  

So I nibbled on some bread before sheepishly telling him that it was me, his new bride that cast the vote for his opponent. Charlie was stunned. "Really?" he kept asking me. "You're kidding, right?"

Even now, I can remember that feeling of betrayal. It was terrible, me voting for another man. Some might ask, "How were you to know that you'd wind up marrying Charlie?" I didn't, of course. But I do know that when I voted for Adam, it just didn't feel right.  My mind said one thing, my heart said another and if there's one thing I've learned in life it's that you should always follow your heart.

Since then, I've sworn that I'd never vote against my husband again.  And I'm happy to report that I kept my promise. Unfortunately, the rest of the crowd that was gathered on my sister's patio slowly sipping Moonshine, didn't share my sentiment and Rich's pizza won by a landslide.  Here's Charlie getting a group hug...



After lamenting that his pizza looked SO SQUARE.



"I don't understand! How did you get your pizza so round?" he kept asking, incredulously.



Kate said that she sat on it, but I think (or rather, hope) that was the moonshine talking.

six

Henry turned six-years-old on the Fourth of July. Six years old.  Let me just take a moment to reflect on how this little sparkler...



Has morphed in to this gorgeous firecracker who told me yesterday, "Mom, I might not marry you when I grow up." So I had to hold him down and tickle his belly until he said, "OK, OK, I'll marry you, HONEY!!!"



For the third year in a row, we celebrated his birthday in Michigan. This time, with a very special guest.  Please focus your attention on the lovely woman on the back right row wearing the festive hat that was decorated by my Aunt Grace.



This was the third year that we also took part in the town's Fourth of July parade. Henry has had his own "float" for the past two years, so this year, Clark and Eileen had professional banners made so that we wouldn't be up until 2 AM making signs out of poster board.



We actually had the pleasure of decorating TWO vehicles for the parade because my mother, Mary, turned 80 on July 7th, so while Eileen drove the truck with Henry - Clark drove my mother in his new Porsche which was also adorned with banners and balloons.



It was so awesome to have my mother join us in what has become an annual celebration. Word has spread about how much fun we have, so as a surprise - my mother's neighbors that she sees every year during the winter in Florida - made their way to Michigan from Connecticut so they could join in on the action.  On our way to the parade...



My mother was absolutely shocked to see her dear friend, Flavia (aka: Auntie Sam)...



And Flavia's wonderful daughter, Kate (aka: Lady Liberty).



Here we are in our patriotic best ...



Here's Kate with Mrs. Michigan...



And the Blue Man.



Here's the Birthday Mobile at the lineup...



And here we are pulling out on to the parade route.





The first year that we participated in the parade, we were directly in front of the high school band. This year, there was a rock band on the float behind us and it was so fun marching to the music!



A friend of a friend (of a neighbor) joined us in the birthday lineup because their daughter was turning one on the Fourth of July and they, too, wanted in on the parade marching birthday action. The little doll in the wagon is the Birthday Girl and next year her parents are thinking of upgrading her to a pony. Or a llama. Or something that will allow her better visibility of the crowd (and them of her).

Sticking with our theme of "We Give Kisses for Birthday Wishes!" ....

Henry did a great job throwing out handfuls of frozen Hershey Kisses...

To the thousands of people who lined the nearly 2-mile route.



Including a police officer with a fantastic reflex to catch airborne kisses.



We meandered down Main Street...



With our flags waving ...



And faces smiling.



We went past the Grand Stand and listened to the MC identify my mother celebrating her 80th birthday (visiting all the way from South Carolina), Henry celebrating his 6th birthday (all the way from Virginia), and the little girl in the wagon celebrating her 1st birthday (all the way from the next town over).  "So you see," he told the crowd, "people from all over America must realize this is the BEST PARADE in the country!" and then he told my mother that she was more beautiful than the car before asking, "By the way Mary, is that car your birthday gift?" 



My mother had so much fun that two days later, her cheeks still hurt from all the laughing.



Once the parade was finished, there were presents ...



Cake ...



And fireworks.



Talk about ending the perfect day with a bang!

how to enter sainthood

Charlie and I are coming up on our 19-year wedding anniversary.  While we traveled extensively as a couple for the first 10 years of our marriage, for the past nine years - once we've become parents - we haven't gone out very much like we used to.



Although we've had babysitters here and there - for the most part, we're perfectly content to stay in ... or if we go out, we'd much prefer to take the children with us so they can share the experience, which usually consists of something juvenile that the children would enjoy. While we used to go to rock concerts and fly off for exotic retreats, now our idea of excitement surrounds things like the zoo, beach, amusement park, or Chuck E Cheese. Woot! 

Up until last week, we'd only left the children - all four of them - once in their lifetimes. The one other time happened in 2009, when Charlie and I stayed at a hotel in downtown San Diego, so we could be close to the start line to run the Rock-n-Roll Marathon. We went to bed very late and awoke at 5AM while Alex and Kathleen graciously watched our cherubs.  But that time away didn't really feel like a vacation, considering we had to wake up after five hours of sleep and run 26.2 miles.



When we arrived in Michigan last week, I was sick. And tired. And a bit cranky. Why was I cranky, you ask? Because it makes me so frustrated to think that I work and work and work and when my coveted vacation time rolls around, I'm sick.  For that matter, I'm sick (or tired) nearly every weekend and for as much as I try to manage my energy and save my best energy for my family - it seldom happens that way. So, I get frustrated at the situation and that frustration manifests itself in to a crankiness that comes out on the people whom I love and adore the most.

And then there's the guilt that I'm frustrated and giving the people I love and adore the most even LESS of my best and hello rabbit hole of despair ... my name is Jen, I'll be the one falling down you and getting lost for a while.



When we arrived in Michigan, my lovely sister, the wonderfully intuitive Eileen, sensed that her baby sister was not in her best form so she indicated that she wanted to send Charlie and I away. When I first heard her say this, I perked up and said, "Like to Hawaii for a week?!" and she said, "No, to a bed and breakfast down the street for one night..."  And without hesitation - which is extremely rare for me - I said YES. OF COURSE. Then I ran off to pack an overnight bag while Eileen continued, "So, um, why don't you run it by Charlie....?"

Ha, ha. The only thing I'd run by Charlie is myself - as I booked out the front door.

So my husband and I - courtesy of my sister and her husband - enjoyed our second getaway in our parenthood experience.  While the more than capable team of Eileen and Clark and three of their teenaged daughters watched our children, we drove two minutes to a quaint bed and breakfast down the road from their house and it was perfect.



We checked in and talked with the innkeeper. We had a fresh baked cookie and cup of tea, before we walked in to the picturesque down town and strolled along Main Street and window shopped.



For the next several hours, we held hands and we kissed and I patted my husband on his bottom and maybe for a few zesty seconds, I left my hand there and pinched once or twice.

OH YES, I DID.  



We sat on the outside patio and enjoyed a quiet dinner in a restaurant that had once been a church and we strolled back to the hotel and drank more tea and asked ourselves, "Why, why, WHY haven't we done this before?!" Many hours later, we woke up feeling rejuvenated and a lot less cranky.  In the morning, we sat with other bed and breakfast patrons for three hours and enjoyed the most delicious breakfast (and lively conversation) Charlie and I can remember in recent times.



So here is my advice to anyone that wants it:  If you really want to do something wonderful for a couple with young children, arrange for them to go and spend the night away. Even if it's just for one night - don't make the OFFER that you'll do this ... just do it. 

And that is how you too, will enter the ranks of Sainthood.  In at least the eyes of the couple from whom which you've given the heavenly (and much needed) reprieve that they may not have even realized that they truly needed.