Snapshot: "Measure me!"

 
So here is our family's "measuring stick."  We started marking growth spurts on the doorway in between our kitchen and our dining room, soon after we moved into our new digs in 2001.

 
A few years after we moved in, we painted the kitchen and the trim -- but I was insistent that our growth chart would stay intact.  But then the tall boy and his cousins, the soldier and the Cavalier cousin, just continued to grow.  Coleen's tall boys came over and stood tall to be measured, too.  And they all continued to grow and grow. I suspect that we have not seen the last of the growing among these tall, tall boys.

But that's OK.  We will continue to chart the growth of our urchins, their cousins, their friends -- really, just anyone who is willing to stand up and be measured.

This wall makes me happy every time I look at it.

Happy birthday, adored one!

So the girl in charge turned 17 last week while we were at the beach, which makes me very angsty because it's all going too damned fast but let's not dwell or I'll cry.

Well, here's the thing -- as some of you may know, the girl in charge shares a birthday with Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom and J.K. Rowling. This is huge, people -- especially for a girl who always has a Harry Potter book in rotation, can recite whole passages from each of the seven books verbatim, and kills, kills I'm telling you, at any kind of Potterish trivia game. I mean, just don't even try to beat her. We have used up three hard-backed copies of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, no lie -- literally read them to pieces. In this picture, my girl is saving our seats for the fabulous midnight premiere of the last Harry Potter movie; bet you can't guess what she's reading!

So in the middle of a summer like this one, when you can't trip over a log without finding a photo of Daniel Radcliffe underneath it, the girl in charge was in Harry Potter heaven. And for her birthday, I might have gone just a wee bit overboard on the Harry Potter loot. She got Harry Potter Legos (Hagrid's Hut and the Knight Bus -- way cool!).

She got a Harry Potter wand that lights up when you say "lumos!" (and give it a little shake and make sure a battery is in there somewhere) and a Harry Potter sticker book (which one might think was aimed at the younger Harry Potter fans but one would be wrong, wrong, wrong, mother! because for the girl in charge and her friends -- seniors in high school, remember -- the only thing as cool as Harry Potter stickers would be a Doctor Who coffee mug or a "Tangled" poster, both of which are currently on the girl in charge's Christmas wish list).

She also got a Harry Potter poster book, and I take great glee in reporting that the soldier, who reported back to West Point less than a week later, begged -- begged -- for the Hermione poster, and the girl in charge gave it to him and told me that it was the first time the soldier had ever hugged her.

I do hope this magically wonderful girl (who could have been The Chosen One) realizes how much she is cherished and adored; the world is full of busy-ness and hustle-bustle, and we all move way too fast and talk too much, and fill our heads with worries that don't really mean anything. I feel like every day that slips by is another lost opportunity to make sure my beautiful girl knows: I am the luckiest mom.

In the blink of an eye

So when all the urchins were younger we used to bring our friend Katey along for our family beach week. Just twelve years old when she started coming to the beach with us, Katey was a gift from God because she (and later her sister Betsey, too) was just so great with our kids. She played with them non-stop, and didn't care what the game was: chasing each other on the beach games, or princess-y "let's paint our toenails" games, or rollicking games that involved swords or bows and arrows -- she was up for anything. Sometimes they combined the princesses and the swords to play a kind of "knights storm the castle to rescue the princesses who are painting their toenails while in captivity" game. That was a good one. Here's Katey with the girl in charge -- who adored Katey, and was quite willing to let Katey be in charge of everything.

See, Katey was young enough that she still had fun playing with seven (at the time) kids, but the real beauty was that she was also old enough (and even more important, mature enough) to keep them safe, and to distract them with another fun game when tempers flared, or read a pile of stories to them when nap time loomed. And she never, ever implied that she knew we were using her as slave labor while we lounged in our chairs and read books all day. A gift, I'm telling you, from God. Here the girl in charge and Katey join the (future) soldier at Funland -- the swingin' amusement park at Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. All our best beach memories have Katey and Betsey in them.

So you can imagine, I am sure, how fabulous but mind-blowing it was that Katey and her husband and daughters were able to spend some time with us at the beach this year. This picture of my sister with Katey and her baby was a joy to take, but I swear as I looked at the image on the screen of my camera I felt dizzy at the speed of the earth turning so many times on its axis -- in the blink of an eye.

Snapshot: What do they have in common?

I can tell you what these three soldiers
have in common in just one word:

AIRBORNE!

Beach memories . . . .

So while we were at the beach we absolutely did all our favorite things -- things we do every year. For my sister and me, this involved books. And maybe a magazine or two but mostly books. And we weren't the only ones -- we are clearly raising our urchins right, because this is a picture that could have been captured most beach days. Every urchin there was deep into something -- from Stardust, to Pillars of the Earth, to Game of Thrones, to a re-reading of the Harry Potter books in preparation for the big movie release, the books were piled up all over our beach house. I personally read The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, and loved it!

For the sunny girl and her cousins the beach tradition also involved boogie boards, except for the days when they reported that the water was . . . let's see, what was the phrase they used? "W-a-a-y too freakin' cold."

My tall boy wasn't able to make it to the beach this year (he was stuck in a cubicle), so the soldier brought along one of his soldier pals to fill the void. While he's no tall boy, he is cuter than [think of something really cute and he's cuter than that], and funny, and willing to roll with the punches -- even when one of the girl cousins (who might be the sunny girl, not that I'm blaming or anything) spilled lemonade all over him. And dig this: dude wore a different bow tie to dinner every night. Swear to God.

And we had lots to celebrate! A room full of fathers received their Father's Day loot . . .

-- don't judge me because I

used duct tape to wrap my gifts --

. . . and this up-and-coming Wahoo was the man of the hour, since he just graduated from high school.

A new thing we did this year was that we all sat down together one night and read the script of the play, "Dinner at Eight." More about that is coming because it was awesome!

Mostly we stuck to our main family tradition, which is to spend as much time together as possible with the people we love most in the world.

The Great Pillow Caper

So I know that none of you have this problem, but here's the thing. While I was thrilled to host the husband's sister for part of the Thanksgiving holiday, it did mean that I finally had to face my dark nemesis, the back bedroom (cue scary music). Do you do this? I had fallen into the trap of feeling like, hey! It's a room that rarely gets used for actual sleeping -- so I'll just shove these few things in there until I can get to a more thorough housecleaning later. And do you think I have ever embraced the notion of a thorough housecleaning? Please.

People, I cannot tell you how awful it was without humiliating myself. And have mercy, but I took no pictures for the same reason. Let's just say I found crap I had been missing for months. Oh, who am I kidding? Years.

Well! The girl urchins and I went on the attack! I was so happy to have them on my team -- when you're facing such a fierce foe it's a powerful thing to have daughters who have your back. And at the end of our labors, the room was so sparkling clean that I rewarded myself (and my future guests) with a pretty new comforter and pillow shams. Aren't they cute?

My west coast guest left Friday morning, but I looked forward to seeing my sister and her urchins on Saturday night -- they were getting the soldier back to West Point (he loves it and rocks at being a cadet -- thanks for asking!). And I had a pretty room to offer her, too! Win!

But here's the thing: the tall boy casually mentioned on Friday that he had invited his bestie (also in town from the west coast) to "come over and hang," and that he would probably spend the night. Fabulous! we love the bestie -- he's charming and funny (obsessed with that rocket, as you'll recall), and he promised to play the piano for us, because -- talented? You don't even know.

Well. I have no idea what kind of capers and shenanigans they got up to (actually I do have a pretty good idea . . . ), but the next morning they inhaled platters -- platters -- of ham and biscuits. The bestie (a fraternity man, don't you know?) charmed us all, drinking coffee and talking cars with the husband while wearing khakis and a blue blazer. At breakfast, y'all. As I hugged him good-bye I couldn't help thinking, literally: What a nice boy.

But then I went downstairs to get the pretty little bedroom ready for my sister. I was so excited because I knew my sister would be so proud of me -- she had actually seen it at its worst, so I was happy that she would get to see it at its best. And to my horror, I discovered that one of my new pillow shams was . . . gulp . . . missing! (Do you hear the Psycho violins?? I did!)

I sweetly asked the tall boy if he had mistakenly put my brand new pillow somewhere else. "What pillow?" he said to me.

"What pillow??"

People, this is a verbatim record of my response (and my urchins' reaction):

"You get that dumbass Peter on the phone this instant and you tell him he needs to fork over my pillow right now!"

Gales of hysterical laughter from all three of the urchins.

"I'm not kidding, tall boy. You and that dumbass Peter have two options. Come up with my pillow, or buy me a new one! And it came as part of a set, knucklehead, so get your money! "

Shrieks of laughter. Urchins weeping and clutching their sides as they laugh and laugh and laugh.

"And I swear, if that dumbass Peter is already on an airplane back to school I'll follow him myself to get my pillow back. I'm not kidding, tall boy!"

At this point the sunny girl had an asthma attack, she was laughing so hard. My sympathy was not aroused.

Then I stomped off to my car, to go Christmas shopping. I was in quite the festive mood, as you can see.

And then the tall boy came running out, wetting himself with giddy laughter, carrying . . . my pillow! "Where did that dumbass Peter hide it?" I asked wearily. "In the file cabinet!" The tall boy could barely get it out.

In the file cabinet. Of course.

Beast Barracks

So my nephew the soldier is firmly entrenched at "Beast Barracks" -- the summer boot camp that begins his four years at the United States Military Academy at West Point. On "R Day" last week, he and the rest of the Class of 2014 were received by the Academy and formally sworn in to the United States Army.

I wasn't at the actual ceremony, but I was able to watch a video of it; I got goosebumps when I heard the military march music and saw the regiment march across the Plain.

That's my sister's tall boy -- the soldier -- in the front row at the end on the left. You know -- the tall one.

It's funny to think that just the week before, he and my tall boy were sleeping until noon, heading out to lunch on a whim, and strolling the beach looking for girls in bikinis seashells. Things are a little different now!

During his remarks at the ceremony the Commandant of West Point pointed out that these young men and women volunteered to prepare for military leadership at a time of war; that really made me stop and think how grateful I am for all of them and their willingness to say, "Here I am, Lord. Send me."

I will ask all of you to send all your prayers and positive thoughts and good wishes to the soldier and his companions for the next few weeks. Beast Barracks is hard, man! It calls on inner strength and a positive attitude when the tasks seem grueling and never-ending; when family and friends are far away, the whole endeavor can seem that much more daunting. I am so proud of this young man -- some time I will tell you just how hard he has kicked ass for his whole life -- and I know that he will get through this; I just pray that he continues to know it too!


Image Credit:
All photos courtesy of the United States Military Academy at West Point