Myrtle Beach Vacay: A Picture Post

How has an entire month gone by since returning from vacation without a single post about the awesomeness that was vacation? I'll tell you how. Life. That's how. The past few weeks have a been a whirlwind of crazy...but today, I pause from the crazy to bring you a little recap of our fantastic family vacation to Myrtle Beach.

We drove 17+ hours to get there because we're crazy. And also cheap. I have to admit, I was a tiny bit panicked before we left because, hello...we have two children under five years old.

In a car.

For 17+ hours.

But you know what? My boys surprised me, and were the epitome of perfect little angels for pretty much the entire trip. We strategically planned our drive so they'd be sleeping for at least several hours both ways, and I packed the appropriate distraction tools, i.e. DVDs, oreos, cars, the fridge farm, oreos, I Spy books, coloring pages, and oreos...did I mention the oreos?

We started out at 3:30 AM so we could get several hours of driving in before the boys woke up. Or so I thought. About ten minutes into the ride, I heard Gavin say, "Momma...Bennett's touching me!" and I immediately regretted the decision to drive, but the I'm-excited-to-leave-so-I'm-not-sleeping wore off about an hour later and they were both zonked out for next three hours.

We stayed the night in Nashville on the way there and the way back. The boys got in some roughhousing, and we got to see Ryan's brother, Matthew, and sister-in-law, Brooke in their Nashville home.

Brooke, Matthew, and our overly-excited-been-stuck-in-a-car-too-long boys.

It was a nice break in the long drive, and we even got a pet fish in our hotel for the night. Gavin was enamored, of course.

Our "fish for the night" was deemed "Fred."

We got to Myrtle Beach the next day and the rest of my mom's side of the family joined us shortly after. We rented a house right on the beach (of which I failed to get a picture!), and spent the entire week as a family.

At the Ripley's Aquarium with Uncle Adam and Aunt Jahlynn.

At the beach building sand castles.

Gavin put on "fireworks shows" with building blocks for our pre-breakfast entertainment.

The "old folks" mini-golfing team...and Gavin. Gavin even got a hole-in-one!

Aunt Jahlynn and Uncle Adam taught Gavin to bodyboard. He was quite the little surfer by the end of the trip!

Boys at the beach!

Late-night puzzle fun!

On the Myrtle Beach Skywheel.

The boys' first ride in teacups--they loved it as much as their Momma!

There was so much to love about that week, but the best part? Spending it all together. We got to stay together, eat meals together, do puzzles, go mini-golfing, watch old home movies, go to the beach, and just generally enjoy each other's company. It was awesome to be in such a beautiful place surrounded by people I love. The other plus? There were other people who could entertain our boys besides the two of us, which meant Ryan and I got bits of a parenting vacation as well!

It was a fabulous week with the whole Cohoon side of the family. We can't wait for the next one!

Gavinisms: Vacation Edition

After seeing his Great-Grandfather Cohoon being served a disgusting-looking vitamin drink by his Great-Grandmother Cohoon:
Gavin: "What is that Granddad?"
Granddad: "It's a vegetable drink. Try it. It'll make your hair curl."
Gavin: "I like my hair straight."

Trying to understand the Skywheel on the Myrtle Beach boardwalk:
Me: "It's a ferris wheel with cars that are closed, kind of like a little room just for our family."
Gavin: "I'm wanna take my clothes off on the Skywheel."
Me: "Well, it's glass, buddy, so everybody can see you. It's like a glass room. It's still public."
Gavin: "Oh."

Taking a walk on a beautiful, breezy day:
Gavin, before we left: "I don't want to wear a shirt."
Me: "That's fine, buddy."
Gavin, on the walk: "Momma, you should take your shirt off so you can feel the breeze. It's nice outside."

In our "glass room" on the Skywheel--clothes required.

A Letter to My Boys

Boys,
Your Momma has been stressed, and busy, and has completely disregarded this blog lately, which means your monthly letters have unfortunately been put on the back burner as well. Sorry for that. But, as I've said before, I would much rather be spending time with the both of you than writing about it, and so when my free time dwindled down these past few months, what time I did have was spent with you, and your Daddy, and I will never apologize for that. Also, the older you two get, the less need I feel for monthly updates, so these might morph into more "big news" kind of updates instead. So...here are your big headlines for the last few months...

Gavin,
Every time I look at you I keep wondering if you've grown overnight. You are just so much taller now, and your baby face has thinned out so much that people don't even think you have your Momma's cheeks anymore. The taller you get, the braver and more confident you get as well--inviting neighbors over to play, bodyboarding in the ocean, etc., etc.

Your first catch of the season!

You've grown a bit more defiant in that confidence as well, which has surprised me coming from my generally reserved and fairly compliant little man. It goes in spurts, really, like you're testing us or something. I hope we're passing. :)

With every little bit you grow and change, you still insist on stories and cuddles at bedtime, and I hope that sweet little part of you doesn't change for many, many months to come. Your sweetness is also still evident in your relationship with Bennett. You're so, SO good at sharing with him, and genuinely feel bad if you accidentally hurt him. You adore him, and I love that you're your sweetest with him.

You start Pre-K in just a few short weeks, and I cannot believe it's your last year at WeCare. It feels like a blink ago I was stressed about you not taking a bottle from a stranger, and this will be your fourth classroom since then. You're so very excited about your new class, and going back to school, though, that I can't be melancholy about the passing years too long--there's just too much more to experience with you in the coming years.

I've missed you so much this summer as I've left for work every day while you, Daddy and Bennett get to stay home. The one fabulous thing about it is the greeting I get every day when I come home, though. There is nothing quite like seeing you waving at the garage door as soon as I pull my car in, and the "Come play with me, Mommas" I get before I even turn off the car.

Keep being your awesome self, kiddo.
I love you more,
Momma


Bennett,
Child, you are a feisty one, and I have to admit how much I love it. While you're so laid back when it comes to certain things, your spunk definitely comes out when you want to get your point across. You're saying a few words, but mostly, you're signing what you want, or expecting us to read your mind (quickly) to figure things out. You say, "Uh-oh, mama, dada, daisy, bye-bye, all done and ya-ya (Gavin), but that's pretty much the extent of your spoken vocabulary so far, besides animal sounds, which you're picking up pretty quickly. Every new animal is a dog at first, but you've slowly starting realizing they all make different sounds. Your roar is my particular favorite, which is almost more shout-like every time you see a dinosaur. Adorable. You understand 10 times your spoken vocabulary, and answer questions with the shake of your head for "no" or "yes" (though it's mostly "no" because you're a toddler, so of course it is).

You're very into reading books now, and I love that you're starting to love them as much as your brother. Your favorites right now are Old Hat, New Hat, Brown Bear, Brown Bear, and That's Not My Monkey, all of which you request on a nightly basis. My attempts at throwing in a newbie seem to be working more often lately, thank God, because I don't even need to look at the others to read them anymore.

You graduated from feeding yourself with your fingers months ago and now use a fork and spoon pretty well. You also skipped right past traditional sippy cups and prefer cups with straws instead. The bath is also almost a thing of the past, as you and Gavin and Daddy prefer showers together.

Just recently you've started freely giving hugs and kisses whenever you're asked, and it melts me into a puddle every time. I particularly like to ask you when you're all the way across a room, because you'll pucker your lips and walk allll the way over with your chin in the air, just waiting to plant that kiss with a "mwah!" sound.

You're still fearless when it comes to climbing, or whatever other semi-dangerous thing you see your big brother doing. You follow suit immediately, and your motor skills constantly astound me.

Climbing over the couch to find a lost binkie.

You're growing so fast that I feel bad I haven't updated your happenings here, but I promise they're well-documented in photos and videos.

I love you more,
Momma

One Word, Five Voices: Tears

Tears.

Oh my...have I shed a few in my 31 years. Joyful tears, heartbroken tears, proud tears, furious tears...the list could go on for a good long while, I'm sure. But when I saw "tears" was the chosen word for this month, I immediately thought of 40+ kids in an orphanage halfway across the world in Russia. Because their tears? They're some of the most morose, painful tears I've ever encountered.

Watching my own children cry--when they're hurt, or scared--it's hard. So hard. I wish I could wipe the pain and fright away, but at best, all I can give is a hug, and a promise that "it'll be okay." The thing is, sometimes that's all they need. A quick cuddle from Momma restores security and heals pain better than any medicine--I'm sure of it. Because in my arms, they feel safe. They feel wanted and important. They feel loved.

As much as I want to, I can't quite do the same for my Russian kids. I can't promise them things will turn out just fine. The hugs I give and the love I pour into them certainly can't make up for years of abuse and neglect. Those facts were sobering for me after my first trip to Russia in 2010. I left feeling as though I couldn't possibly have made any difference in their shattered young lives. But then I went back the following year and saw just what a difference that tiny bit of love had made. I saw maturing, more confident kids. I saw walls coming down that had been built up for years. I saw trust forming in a tangible way. I saw what loving your neighbor is about in its rawest form.

So no, I can't promise my Russian kids things will get better. I can't dry their tears as I leave and wrap them in comfort the same way I can with my own boys. I can't even promise I will be back the following year, or that I'll ever see them again.

But I can promise a love that's not my own. I can love them in the way they were created to be loved. And that makes all the difference.

Me and my buddy, Dima.

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To learn more about how you can partner with me and the rest of the 2013 Russia Team, please contact me via e-mail at linnie104@aol.com.

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This post is part of a series focused on a single word, which started with a 2013 Lenten challenge from Rethink Church. A group of five friends (including me) posted once a day and love-hated it so much we couldn't stop. We now post once a month on the same word. Check out what my friends think of the word "tears" on their blogs: Shawn, Heather, Steph and Brian.

May Gavinisms

Reminiscing about a movie he's never seen:
Gavin: "Mommy, I like Dark Bader."
Me: "Why do you like Darth Vader?"
Gavin: "Because he's just so bad."

Being dramatic in the car:
Gavin: "My tummy feels throwed up."
Me: "Are you ok?"
Gavin: "No."
0.0005 seconds after saying no: "Look, Mommy! Spiderman!"

A Shy Guy First

Last night, while playing outside on the Best. Playground. Ever. (see 2-year-old picture above for proof), Gavin noticed the neighbor boys peeking over the fence from their backyard.

"Maybe they want to play, Mommy," he said. "Let's ask them."

"Great idea, buddy!" I said, oozing with pride over my generally shy guy. "Go over and ask if they'd like to come over."

"Will you come with me?" he asked, a little more apprehensive this time.

"You can do it," I said, coaxing him toward the fence. "I'll be right here."

Before he even reached the fence, our youngest neighbor, Royce, yelled over, asking if he and his brother Carlton could come over and play. Gavin responded with an excited "Ya!" and ran back to me with a grin that split his face wide open. He was ecstatic, and spent the next hour playing soccer, taking turns on the swings, and playing chase.

And if the evening wasn't already stereotypically "boys from the neighborhood hanging out," they also chased, caught and then proceeded to bathe a toad. Boys, right?

I was so proud of my shy guy, and reminded that even though my heart aches every time I realize how fast he's growing, it swells to see him maturing into such a sweet, confident kid.

One Word, Five Voices: Sing

Those of you who know me well know that I randomly sing words and phrases throughout my day. I'm pretty sure it's physically impossible for me to utter the word "creepy" without it coming out as a sing-songy "creeepeee." Go ahead and spook me with a story if you'd like to test that one out.

I grew up with song so it's naturally a part of my every day, and probably 99.9% of the reason my life feels like a musical. My mom is a fabulously talented singer, and though I don't remember my childhood being filled with randomly sung words like "creeepeee," I do remember her "Good morning" song, Christmas caroling through our neighborhood, trying out for high school musicals, and listening to her sing in church every Sunday morning. Song was so incorporated in my young life that I wrote this poem about it in college:


Childhood Epiphany in High G

I sat in a hard-backed pew

at St. Mark’s Catholic Church

every Sunday morning and listened

to my mother sing. 
Hymns, praise songs, and alleluias carried
her perfect soprano 

above the low-pitched muddle,

and with eyes closed I could pluck

her notes from the air and take them home

as the one godly thing I reaped that week. 

In fact, I think song heavily contributed to my love of poetry. I mean, songs are nothing more than poems set to music, right? Granted, some aren't as crafted as others, but you can't set your expectations too high for a typical pop song, I guess.

Even still, there's something about song that transcends poetry. It's the act of singing that brings the poem in a song to life. It's a joyful noise with which we can share the emotion behind a song and experience what the writer experienced.

Singing brings our lives to life.

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This post is part of a series focused on a single word, which started with a 2013 Lenten challenge from Rethink Church. A group of five friends (including me) posted once a day and love-hated it so much we couldn't stop. We now post once a month on the same word. Check out what my friends think of the word "sing" on their blogs: Shawn, Heather, Steph and Brian.