My Birthday

I knowIknowIknow.
It's like I have no consideration for posting anything but birthday stuff.  Sorry, Peanuts. I get behind on Things.  On the eve of my not-so-young birthday I may as well admit- that's how it is.  It's how it's going to be.
I was probably meant to be a nurse, on so many levels.  I never was, but still- I triage.  Blogging things that probably only I care about doesn't often get to the top of the list.  Birthdays, though, well.  Those are sort of momentous.  I mean, if a person has a family blog, they can AT LEAST do the birthdays, amiright?
So.  This time, it's my birthday.
This birthday, I  have the exceptional gift in life to spend it with the person who gave it to me.  Mom.  Hi mom!
Tomorrow, Mom will be accompanying me on the last leg of this long, as yet un-blogged about journey. Because she rocks.
After I became a mother, I started sending my mother flowers on my birthday.  Because then, I finally Got It.  This year, the flowers would wilt in the car but I still want to say something to my mama on my birthday.
Mommy.
You did not always do everything right and make all the right decisions.  Nope.
Thank Goodness, because if you did how would you so totally understand when I come crying to you when I mess up? There are things you have done, or not done, that I have looked back on and given you and F for.  Being real.  Like there are things that I am doing already, and definitely will do when the Littles get older (this gig gets harder when they get big! Agh!), that I will be similarly graded on.
That is the thing about parenting, the thing about life.  You do the best you can; sometimes it works out better than other times.
But.
Looking back, here are the things I think you got totally right:
You found cigarettes in my room and instead of punishing me, left a note about how disappointed you were in my choice.  That was the end of that. Forever.
You told me I could go to any party any time, as long as I told you where I was and called if I needed a ride.  I did, and I recall a few times I left a rager (safely) in your blue minivan.  And lots of times my friends' moms thought we were "at a movie", while you alone knew the cross streets and what time I'd be home.
You let me read all the books I ever wanted.  And I loved learning because of it. Still do.
You worked at the school to afford me an early montessori education, which I credit with so much of my knowledge, personal development, happy memories, and love for nerdy science journals.
You took us out into nature.  Hiking, camping, skiing, biking, road-tripping.  You forced our tender little butts into the natural world, no matter how much we whined and sulked and protested.  And in so doing gave me some of my most treasured memories.
You drilled into my brain that girls can do Anything- and you lived up to that paradigm in every way.
You worked your still-hot-at-over-sixty patootie off to give me every advantage possible. Believe it or not, I take none of that for granted.
Most importantly?
You loved me unconditionally. Even when it wasn't easy.  Even when I didn't earn it.  I have not once in my life doubted that you would always be my biggest fan, and be there for me when the dust clears.  And you always, ALWAYS have been.  I don't take that for granted, either.
You taught me how to have fun. How to work hard.  How to embrace adventures.  How to have an open heart. How to look for the light ahead.  How to appreciate feminism, education, accomplishment.  How to appreciate being a mother, sticky hugs, splashing in puddles.
Tomorrow I will turn the same age you were when I was born.
Think of that!  Hard for me to imagine, with three Littles tugging at my hems.  In a lot of ways, I think you were younger at 32 than I am.  Maybe that's why you are still so young now- so young that people balk when you tell them your age.  At the same time, you raised me with a wisdom that I hope will become Little One, Missy, and Little Mister's lessons in life.
Be happy, be healthy, be strong.  Be who You Are.  Depend on YOU.  Find your own, unique, way in the world.  But, always, come home when you need some good lasagna and a hug.
On my birthday, I think of what it's like- trying hard, wanting desperately to do the Right Thing always and not always knowing what that is.  I remember what it's like bringing Life into the world- in a physical sense, in a philosophical sense.
I look back on a lot of flying and falling, stumbling and crawling, and I see the shadow of my mother's love beside me always.  All I can say is- thank you.
You made me and I'm not perfect. But I like being me.  You gave me life and it's not been perfect, but I love life.  You're my mother and I didn't choose you.  But I'm glad I got to be yours.
By the way. I love that you had me at 32.  It makes me feel, on this birthday that once seemed SO far away, that life is just beginning.  How fun that, once again, we get to begin it together.
Adventures await.

Inside Joke

On long driving days on this trip, we play games, do art, and enjoy the scenery in the morning.  But if we're still driving in the late afternoon (or if we did a hike early and then logged some miles after lunch), we let the Sisters watch a movie in the car.
We let them choose from a selection we brought along, and for some reason, they formed an obsession way back in Indiana and have chosen the SAME movie EVERY time.  Disney's "Cars".
The repeated viewing of this gem (They've probably watched it five or six times now) has ingrained it into their soft little brains in a way that is eerily impressive.  It's kind of cool (wow! How can they remember all that?!) and kind of disturbing (wow.  HOW can they remember all THAT?!).
We sort of wish we'd brought along a video of the theory of relativity or something instead.  They'd be applying to Harvard right now.  It has also given rise to the first notable existence of a new phenomena.
We were driving one day and the Littles were chattering.  Suddenly, they both hollered, "AND MY NAME IS NOT CHUCK!" and broke into insane peals of laughter.  J and I gave each other the "huh?" look, and turned to see what the heck.  We could see no signs of Chuck.
But it became a Thing.  One of them would randomly say, "Adios, Chuck." And the other would shout, "AND MY NAME IS NOT CHUCK!".  Crazy laughter.
After a while, and quite a few "huh" looks between me and J, I suddenly gasped.  "Ohmygosh!"
J did a double on his "huh?" look.  "What?" 
"I just realized.  They have this joke.  They have a joke, and they get it, and we are the un-cool parents and we DON'T get it.  We don't GET it, J.  It's their first inside joke!" 
J was quiet for a moment.  "It is."
It was!
After careful attention, and thanks to a five-year old who (thank you Lord, and let it last forever) can not keep a secret from Her parents for long, we realized they were repeating their favorite line from the movie.  Apparently that part is, like, reeeaaallllyyy funny.
Once we were clued in, it became the family inside joke. Now, any one of us is likely to suddenly say, "Adios, Chuck!"  leading to a chorus of "AND MY NAME IS NOT CHUCK! AHhhahaaahah!"
They also quote a ton of other lines from the movie.  including, most unfortunately, such gems as "what-a-heck?!" and (this one makes me freak out EVERY time for just a sec) "Ho-ly SHOOT!"
Thanks, Mater.  You've corrupted my innocent babies.  Now they say "holy shoot".  What-a-heck?!
Little Miss, also, has a thing for the "low-ridah" cars featured, likes to go around saying, "What UP? What Uuuupp?"  And even, upon seeing a sleeping person at my grandfather's nursing home, "Looks like we got ah-selves a NOd-dah!" 
Ok, see the movie if you don't get it.
Except for the holy shoot parts, it's pretty cute.  And, if you re-live it 5000234541 times, as we have, you will grow a special fondness for it.  Trust me.  You might even drive the country, looking out for cars that resemble the characters from the movie, and find random junkyards in Nowhere, New Mexico, really awesome because there are, like, 10 Maters and 14 Doc Hudsons in there.  Trust me.
At any rate, while I have heard each scene rehashed and dissected as nauseum, and while what-the-heck and holy-shoot are phrases I could live without a few years longer, I appreciate very much the fact that J and I were let in on the Sister's first inside joke.
There will be more- many more- and we will soon be left with our "huh" looks and nothing else.  As it should be.
But maybe, one day, when they are laughing at something that makes no sense to us, and they refuse to clue us in, J or I will holler at them- "Adios, Chuck!"  And, years having passed, the Sisters will give each other the "huh?" look, and J and I will laugh hysterically.

Six Months

With all the traveling and the business and the being away from the internet, I have not had a chance to tell you Peanuts so many things.  Looking back I'm not sure yet where to start, but in the mean time, Mister has reached a whole half year!  I had to take some time out of our trip to tell you all about the fun that is Mister at six months.

First of all, I have a whole post coming about the fact that Mister had a tongue tie fixed shortly before we left Virginia.  A whole post because it was that big a deal.  Since that momentous occurrence, Little Mister has been able to do this amazing thing: eat-for-the-love-of-goodness.
Now that He isn't half starved, and now that feeding Him is no longer an all-consuming, horribly stressful event for us both, He has stepped into the role He was destined for, free to be the Mister He has always been, inside.  Which is: The Happiest, Easiest Baby EVER.
Mister almost never complains.  He has to be way past due for a feeding, utterly and completely exhausted (sometimes not even then), or in actual acute pain of some sort in order to bother fussing about it.  The rest of the time, dude just sucks it up.

8 hours in a car seat? La-di-da, got His little crinkle toy, got His sisters' faces to look at, no prob.
4 hours in a backpack under the blazing sun, getting jostled around with wind whipping sand into His face? Sounds good, just along for the ride.
Sitting on a lap through an endless restaurant meal after skipping a nap? Hey, might as well enjoy slobbering on a nice shiny spoon.
Sleeping on the floor of a tent in 40 degrees?  Bring it on.

Mister loves getting His diaper changed, literally laughing out loud.  He loves His bath, laughing and splashing and gurgling even when the water runs into His eyes.  He likes being put down to sleep, He likes being awakened from sleep.  He loves being held, cuddled, and talked to.  He's happy to chill on a blanket with something to play with until you almost forget He's there.  He loves everything about His sisters and grins just when He sees them coming.  He laughs when there is wind on His face, when He sneezes in the pool, accidentally dunking His head under the water, laughs when strangers get all up in His personal space.  He's just a happy-go-lucky kind of guy.

On this trip, He has been ripped from any semblance of a schedule and dragged though all manner of environments, confined to His car seat a lot and forced to tough out hot sun, cold days, wind, rain, and even hail.  He's gone through it all with a smile almost continuously on His face.  He loves everyone, He loves just about everything.  And His favorite thing to do is laugh.  He just wants any excuse.  His sisters' antics, His parents' conversation, even thinking about getting tickled.  The world is just hilarious.

Now, on the physical front I don't have a lot to report.  After all, it's as if we have made a conscious effort to stunt His development by restraining Him in the car seat and backpack all the time for the last month.  So, He continues to do His push-ups, He still rolls one way OR the other, but hasn't put them together yet.  He scootches. but not very far.
He seems like He may be teething soon, since He chews on ANYthing like a labrador puppy, and produces enough drool to alleviate the draught conditions of any arid regions we may pass though.
He is finally growing some hair, but it's so blonde you can't really tell.  He has had His first sun and wind burns, but those are hardly milestones to celebrate.  
But while His body has been held back, I fear, by our travels, His brain knows no bounds! He has been learning plenty.  For one, despite having a constantly changing life, He has learned a lot about what to expect.  He recognizes His sisters and parents, He knows when He's about to be changed, fed, or put to bed.  He has learned how to use His own pacifier- studying it, giving it a good shake (for luck?), orienting it properly, and popping it in.  He thinks He can swim, getting His booty going like a porpoise in the pool.  He has moved on from raspberries to full-out conversations with various facial expressions and exclamations in the form of "da da daaa daaa ta t-t-t-ba baaaa goo!" And has a LOT to say.

He is hopelessly attached to His pacifier and to a little blankie that He likes to curl around and snuggle His face into when it's sleep time.  Other favorite toys include a little football toy, and empty plastic water bottles.
Yes, He is so happy that He's perfectly pleased to play with trash.  That's our guy.  Easy, sweet, happy as can be.  He has been such a blessing on this trip (and in life in general) because even when the going gets rough, Mister finds joy and laughter, and shares it with us all.  His joy and delight in everything  (or in nothing at all) becomes joy and delight to all of us, and He keeps us smiling and giggling.
How ever did we get along without you, Little Mister?  I have no idea.  But we're all happy we don't have to do it now.  Happy half-birthday my little son-shine. We love you. 

Crazy Fun

Hey all.
I didn't disappear, exactly.  I've just been outside the sticky reaches of the Web.
I have some stories, I have pictures.  But at the moment, in a middle-of-nowhere hotel, I have only a quick moment to say that we are all surviving the trip so far.
In fact, can we be honest? Yes, lets.  There has been a misadventure or two.  But, so far, the only casualty is the screen on my fancy-fancy camera, and while I mourn that (a little too much, probably), if it's the worst hit our camp takes, then good for us.
Otherwise, we have had a phenomenally great time on this trip.  I am all for routine and consistency at home, but it really amazes me how adaptable my kids can be.  They have taken the constant changes and rootlessness like seasoned travelers.
Every now and then we meet someone along the way and they say something about how hard/crazy/ambitious it is to take three Littles on such a long and amenity-lacking trip.  I sort of give them a blank look and just smile, because as they talk I'm wondering.  Hmm.  It's possible.  It is possible.  I might really, be actually crazy.  Because I have NO idea what they are talking about.
For me, this experience has combined the two things I love most about being alive on this earth; my family, and traveling.  While there has been a moment or two of overtired whining, a couple of misadventures, and a lot of carrying of things (and Little people), there hasn't been too much.
All together it has been fantastic.  Tramping through new places, seeing new things all together, getting outside.... this is my idea of fun.  So maybe we are crazy, but who cares?!  I'm happy to trade in some boring old sanity for this kind of crazy fun.