Family Orchard Trip 2012

Last weekend was a nonstop funfest. We had our annual apple orchard visit, Oliver's birthday party, and TWO trips to Chuck E. Cheese. Oliver had a blast. I'm working on getting Oliver's birthday photos rounded up, but for now you can enjoy our annual orchard photos.

Colin keeping warm in the Baby Limo.

Say "Cheese" in a tree.

Fine specimen.

Another great find by Oliver.

A boy, a stick, and a dirt road.

Pre-picking inspection.

Oliver's photography skills.

Colin enjoying his favorite apple.

Sword fighting.

Just the right height to pick.

Oliver and trusty stick.

Oliver showing Colin his apple.

Colin and a pumpkin.

Annual Apple Orchard Cut-out Family Photo Op

Pony ride all by himself.

No fears, this year.

There's nothing that makes you feel more like a family than having annual traditions. See you next year,  Minnesota Harvest.

Baby wrestling.

I frequently leave Colin lying on my bed while I go to the bathroom. I ask Oliver to watch him so that he doesn't roll off the edge.

Oliver's always happy to oblige, the proud big brother eager to tell the little brother what's what. But really I think Oliver just wants an excuse to wrestle the baby a little bit.

I admit that he may wrestle with the baby more than a little bit...

I warn Oliver to be gentle but he always is. There's a rule in our house that you can only wrestle the baby on the bed and you have to be gentle.

 Most households probably have stricter baby wrestling rules, but when I see how much they're both enjoying each other I just can't say no.

Could you say no to this?

Preschooler.

Oliver started preschool last week. I thought he might cry a little bit, but I didn't have any doubts that he'd like it once I left.  I knew he was ready. Parents were asked to stay for the first half hour of class, so I got to watch him interact with the other kids. When his turn came to stand up and introduce himself during circle time, he stood up and declared,

"I'm Oliver the Boy Human!"

The parents laughed. Most kids were busy picking at their shoes, their noses, their fancy first-day outfits. I was a bit embarrassed, but... At least he's orginal, right? The kid is rocking his own beat and I won't be the one to discourage him.

When the time came for parents to leave, I set him up with an easel next to his new buddy. He looked up at me and said, "Okay now, Mom. It's time for you to go."

Amongst the other crying children, it was a relief that he told me I could go. Just like that. He was ready. I would have felt terrible if I had had to walk out on him crying. But he was ready.

He started swimming lessons last week, too. I really doubted that he'd enjoy swimming lessons since gymnastics was such a bust. I had all kinds of coping strategies planned out in case he started screaming.


But I didn't need them.

He walked into the water with me. He listened to the instructions. He got his head wet. He practiced the back float and front float.  He went down the water slide all by himself not just once, but three times.

After seeing how he handled last week, I have to give him a lot of credit. He's not even three years old and he's so much braver than I am or I ever was. He told me he was scared at first, but he walked into something completely new and different. He gave it a shot. That's more than a lot of people, kids or adults, can do when they're scared.

As selfish as this is, I've been giving myself a pat on the back. I helped him to become this way. He's well-adjusted enough to handle change and do things that seem scary. Most of all, I'm proud that he trusts me enough when I say, "Yes, you can do it!" to go and do it. I'm proud that he trusts that I'll be there to catch him at the end of the water slide and to pick him up when preschool is done.

A few of the parents were crying after they dropped off their kids. I guess they were sad that their babies were growing big. I won't say that I didn't understand where they were coming from. But seeing your kid go into the world on his own and use the things that you taught him? That's amazing.

We've been rockin' it this summer.

Leopard at the Minnesota Zoo wanted to eat the baby.

Insert some "nest egg" joke here.

Colin enjoying the leaves.

Playing at Valley Fair.

You can tell he's the neglected second child - always in the stroller!

Tiny race cars are hard to look dignified in.

Getting ready to jump "higher than my bed!"

A particularly enjoyable planter at the Minnesota State Fair.

The stuffed bear Jared wanted to buy.

So, I like grey.  It was just a(n often occuring) coincidence that I wore grey stripes, the baby wore grey stripes, the carrier is grey, and my nail polish was grey.

Australia.

When Oliver was born, Jared and I spent a lot of time looking at Oliver. I think we were wondering what we should do with him. He was small and needy. Jared & I were just figuring out adult living skills like grocery shopping and bill paying and waking up before noon. We were slightly terrified.

During one of those moments of newborn baby-staring, Jared made a promise to Oliver. He said,

"We'll kick ass and go on adventures. Oliver and Daddy. I promise."

We haven't forgotten that.

That promise is ultimately why we decided to throw caution to the wind and board a plane for Australia with our two kids. We know that neither of them will remember this trip but we're setting a precedent for future adventures and ass kicking. If we can take this on and survive, then we can do just about anything, right?

Everyone we spoke to before the trip either hinted or said outright that we were crazy. Crazy to take our two babies on a 15+ hour flight. Crazy to spend that money on people who won't remember it. Crazy to face wicked jet-lag for a ten day vacation.

Maybe we were crazy. Maybe we are crazy.


But at least Colin & Oliver are going to grow up knowing that when an opportunity presents itself, you jump in and take it. The best things in life take a little bit of guts and agony.

Because if you're not kicking ass and going on adventures, then what is your life for?

Allow me to present to you in full photographic glory, Australia: Kicking Ass and Going on Adventures.

Hitting the beach hours after landing.

Learning to paddleboard.

Jared & I on Mount Tamborine.

Rainforest hikers.

Proof that we saw whales.

The most easterly point of Australia.

Jared celebrating at the Crystal Palace.

Family more or less looking in one direction.

Giant Buddha at Crystal Palace.

Colin in his baby limo.

Oliver petting a kangaroo at Currumbin Wildlife Sanctuary.

"So I says to the guy..."

"Do T-rex arms like the kangaroo!"

Feeding the wild lorikeets.

Jared overcoming his fear of birds.

Getting ready for our night hike to see the glow worm cave.

Colin feeding an emu.

Photo op on Mount Warning.

Sleeping on the long flight home.

Colin's accommodations on the flight were much nicer than the rest of ours, and he didn't even have a paid seat on the plane.

(As always, you can click on the photos to view them larger.)

"I like you. Stay here with me."

Last week as I was driving in our car with its broken radio, I reached a minor epiphany. I've been so busy since Colin was born that there hasn't been much time for reflecting. I'm always caring for somebody and in the moments that I'm not, I'm taking care of myself. Jared and I are eating together and unwinding after putting the kids to bed. I'm watching that movie I wanted to see 2 years ago. The laundry is running, the vacuum cleaner is on, the oven is cooking our dinner. Company's coming over. Everything is constant motion and noise. I've been living in the eye of the hurricane for so long that I forgot that if I were to look out, I'd see the world spinning around me. It's thrilling. It's dizzying.

When I found myself flying down the highway in silence on a beautiful sunny day, everything slammed into me at once. I almost wanted to cry at all of the things that came bubbling up out of my subconscious. All I could think was, wow, this is so amazing. My life is so amazing. How did I ever find myself here? How can my menial life be so fulfilling?

Trust me. I know this sounds ridiculous. Younger-me would slap present-me in the face for saying things so saccharine and gushing. Truly. I know that this sounds cliche but I can't think of any other way to express this feeling of joy in this ordinary life that I've got.

Sometime this past year I started to truly see Oliver as a person. I never appreciated how smart and how perceptive he is until he started being able to communicate with me so well.  I can drive the familiar routes to Grandma's house, to Chuck E Cheese's, to Target and he knows where we're going. If I take a detour or make a wrong turn he will speak up from the backseat, "Mom, you're going the wrong way!"

He interacts so lovingly with Colin. I take such pleasure in watching the two of them when they think they're alone.  I came out of the shower one afternoon to find Oliver nose to nose with Colin. He was whispering,

"Don't go back in Mom's belly again, Colin. I like you. Stay here with me."

Colin is here is because of Oliver. We didn't want Oliver to be alone. We wanted Oliver to have somebody to love and share life with, somebody who is on his level who's got a similar perspective.  Now he's got that. It sounds silly but they're already friends. I can see how they respond to each other in such an organic, easy way. It is amazing to watch  how naturally they take to each other. Nothing is forced. They just somehow know that they're together and that they belong that way. Colin smiles if Oliver even glances in his direction. Oliver comes running if he hears Colin beginning to cry. "It's okay, Colin. Are you hungry? Do you want to see my trucks? Here, here's your blanket."

Having raised Oliver through infancy and babydom, I can now see and appreciate more intelligence in Colin. He still can't do much but I notice the way he is always watching us. I speak to him and he stares so intensely at me that I can feel his thoughts. I know he's trying to process what I'm saying. I know that the coos and the smiles are just the tiniest tip of the iceberg of what will come from him, because I've seen it once before. I know what's coming. I know there's  that spark inside of him somewhere that will one day explode and knock me flat on my back in sudden realization one ordinary Thursday afternoon. Maybe in another couple of years I will be driving in a car with a broken radio and it will be Colin who breaks the silence to say, "Mom, you're going the wrong way!"


To think that I created these people and constructed this life for them is amazing. That I'm even a small part responsible for who those people are and who they will become is mind-blowing. I always thought that the "one person can make a difference" line was a bunch of kumbayah fed to children. But it isn't. I am making the world better by putting my kids into it and I can see that now. I'm doing my best at helping them to become the best people they can be and I feel so proud of myself. A family is such a plain, ordinary gift to the world, but I'm giving it. I know the world will be better for it.

Last month Jared & I celebrated our one year anniversary. We've been a family for longer than a year but it's been one year of our legal union. That morning when I woke up next to Jared, and the words "Happy Anniversary" stuck to the roof of my mouth like peanut butter. It was so bizarre to think about. It went so fast. The date snuck up on me and jumped out from behind the door frame to shout, "SURPRISE! Remember your wedding? Yeah. That was over a year ago."

My hand still forgets to sign my new name. My tongue forgets the word "husband" and slips back to the familiar "boyfriend." Yet somehow there is a permanent indentation around my ring finger. There's a smiling baby boy who wasn't there before. There is a roof above my head that we bought and turned into our home.  The evidence is there if I look, but it's still hard to believe.

Old people were always spouting platitudes about how fast life goes by. As a kid you never want to believe it. You don't want to think that the old timers know better than you. You feel like time lasts for forever because it seems that school will never let out for the summer, that you'll never get your driver's license, and you'll never turn 21. But then you stop looking ahead to the future and start noticing the things happening around you in the present and suddenly time washes over you and sweeps you away.

I never thought I'd be this way, but here I am, and I'm so glad. This lifestyle is so intoxicating.