Seven, Seven, Straight from Heaven

In celebration of Avery’s 7th birthday, here is a list of some of her best quotes. While she doesn’t spout out endless funny quotes like her sister, Avery’s are often deep and heartfelt. And I love that about her.

Avery Wisdom

“Practice does not make perfect. Only in people who believe in themselves.”

“Brownies are the best thing I’ve ever tasted!”

“You know what I like about M&M’s? They have chocolate in them”

How babies are born… pretty accurate: “Batgirl is going to die, and then the babies will come out. And then she will wake up and her heart will be fixed.”

Uttered on Thanksgiving: “I’m glad Jesus didn’t make me into a turkey.”

“But Alice, hugs are the most loveable thing to give!” (After Alice told Chad she didn’t need a hug)

“What a pretty world!” Re: Smoky Mountain National Park

“Soon you will die. You’re a mom, and then you’ll turn into a grandma, and then you will die.”

“Remember Alice, I will always be in your heart”- when going off to school

To me: “I’ll always be in your heart, even when you are dead.”

Also to me: “When you get older, you’re going to die on the cross and then I’m gonna have your house.” So much to unpack here.

“Jesus knows all the things in Target.”

Avery told me one of her classmates asked if Avery could come over for a sleepover. I explained that we need to know the parents better before we would think about a sleepover. To which she replied, “Yeah, because they could be strangers and kill our family?” Yes. Precisely.

“I like Daddy’s hugs that are warm like summer.”

“Hold on, Alice, slow down. I’m not as young as I used to be!”

Avery’s Rules to Live By

“I will never stop playing make believe!”

“The best thing I’m at is doing nothing!”

Avery’s Problems

“I think these undies are too small, my butt can barely handle them!”

After I asked the girls for help picking up their toys and then ditched them after they got engrossed in the activity: “Mommy, I feel like we are doing all the work for you!”

Avery’s Answers

Me: Do you have a stuffy nose?

Avery: I don’t know, but I have been sniffling it.

****

Me: Does anything hurt?

Avery: Just my feelings

****

Me: How do you feel?

Avery: “Like a spider without a web”

****

Me: Are you going to eat all the chips and queso?

Avery: “Sorry, when I see something yummy that I like, I just gotta eat!”

Avery’s Questions

“Mom, why is nature so dirty? Why did God make dirt?”

“But mom, who let the dogs out in that song?”

“I’m growing lots of questions.”

“Did Jesus just glue the stars up there?”

Happy Birthday, Sweet Pea! We love you oodles!

Mama

Straight from the Mouth of a 4 Year Old

I thought about writing a flowery post for Alice’s birthday, but that would do us all a disservice. Instead, I invite you to sit back, relax, and enjoy Alice’s best quotes of the year:

Alice Advice

“Dad, it’s a little foggy out, so do your best” – to Chad while driving through rain

__________________________

“Drive slow, but be a little fast”

Alice Compliments

These Dino nuggets taste great! Last time you made them, they tasted like markers.

__________________________

After zooming in on a picture of my face “I have hair in my nose too, mom.”

__________________________

Why I have body image issues: “You have a hot dog booty and a pig face and pig legs”

Alice Logic

Alice saw me looking at a picture of newborn babies on Facebook. And she said, “are you gonna buy a baby or adopt a baby?”

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To her friend: did you know the sun could explode and everyone on earth would die?

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Me: Mommy is probably a little more grumpy than daddy.

Alice: more like a lot more. 

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Chad: hey girls, what does that cotton candy look like?

Alice: uh, moms hair?

__________________________

Avery: What’s better than cookies?

Alice: Grandma!

Avery: what’s better than grandma?

Alice: nothing!

__________________________

“If I was going to play hockey, I would go and sit on that spot where they rest (the bench) for the whole game.”

__________________________

“You can never have too much stuff!” 

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I have two friends named Gracie. One is named Gracie and one is named Gracie.

__________________________

Does anyone know which way your hands are supposed to go?

*Flips hands back and forth.

I like this way (palms down)- it’s my useful hand way.

__________________________

It’s hard to take care of 2 girls without a husband, right mom? (When Chad traveled for 2 days)

__________________________

“Everyone who comes to my birthday has to dress up as a star nose” 

Me: What’s a star nose?

“A kind of mole. And I will dress up as Wonder Woman”

__________________________

“I’m just an ordinary girl” (when explaining why she couldn’t try clam chowder)

__________________________

I can eat when I’m baking because I can eat with one hand and bake with the other. (MY GIRL!)

__________________________

I only have a few cries left, but they are really loud ones

__________________________

Mom! My left eye can’t fall asleep!

__________________________

“I thought it was markers, but now I know it’s my veins” (on the blue vein lines on her arms)

__________________________

An overheard bathroom conversation: “Maybe some of your alveoli dripped into your poop.”

__________________________

Alice: Siri is part of God

Me: No, Siri is not part of god. Why do you think that?

Alice: Because, Siri is always telling us where to go. 

__________________________

Me: Why don’t you put noses on the people you draw?

“Because, I like them that way and they look happier. “

Alice Weirdness

After blowing her nose: “did you see the smoke come out?”

__________________________

“It looks like a dead elephant squirting out his last water.” (Re: what a cloud looked like)

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“I have a video of her dying in the lava”- about the dead Barbie sister

Alice Anger

Get out of my room before I get to zero! *Speed counts from ten to zero

__________________________ 

“You’re not doing good as a mom if you are making us cry.”

__________________________

I have a case of the mean wiggles. I need someone or something to be mean to!

__________________________

Mad at Chad.

Me: should we put him in jail?

Alice: no! I want to put him in a cage!

__________________________

Go! Get out of here! Never return a-gain!

__________________________

I don’t forget treats. (After I ate her fruit roll-up, thinking she forgot about it)

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You wasted my time. The teacher said I had to eat all my healthy food before I could eat my cookies. There was too much healthy food!

Alice Learns

Avery: are they teaching you numbers in school?

Alice: no, they just teach us letters and how to use knives.

__________________________

“They are teaching me Spanish at preschool. “Gracias” means hello, and “see you later alligator” means goodbye “

__________________________

When telling me that they didn’t get to play on the playground today: “I wonder if the termites are back.”

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“China is real?!”

__________________________

“Mom, do people get sick from other people?”

Me: Yes

“Then what made the first person sick?”

__________________________

Church singer: the hand of the Lord will feed you

Alice: the ANT of the Lord??

Alice Cuteness

“When you get to heaven, can you ask God if he can send you back to earth for me?”

__________________________

“Thank you for this beautiful world.” @bedtime prayers 

__________________________

We gotta wait until it smells just like Grandmeres tomatoes (on when to pick a tomato) 

__________________________

Me: do you want French toast?

Alice: only with syrup, I declare 

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At whiskey tasting before every shot- whispered into my ear: “You’re going to wuv it”

__________________________

What are you doing Alice?

“Causing a ruckus!” 

__________________________

“I’m drawing a picture of our family. Aves, what color human do you want to be?”

__________________________

“Will you still be my mudder when I’m 10?”

__________________________

I’m fast, mom. I’m not a slowpoke junior 

__________________________

Happy Birthday, Alice Jane! We sure love you.

Mama

4

She eats pepperoni for breakfast and lies on the floor when she’s tired. She still has dimples on her knuckles and calls pajamas, “Pajammies,” which in my book is the most adorable thing ever. She uses my back massager on a regular basis, to “relax” . She blames her gas on her dolls. She likes to eat butter straight up, and gosh darn it, I can’t blame her.

About 3 months ago, she developed a hobby that she named, “Stickering.”

She carefully layers the stickers onto a sheet of printer paper, ensuring that there is no white space between stickers. Her creation is complete when both sides of the paper are covered. She usually works in some sort of pattern: often, spiraling from the outside to the inside of the sheet. She works on these creations for about an hour a day and it takes about 5 days to have a fully complete product.

She tells me that when she grows up, she wants to be a “o-fessional stickerer”. I asked her what o-fessional stickerers can do & she informed me that when she’s an o-fessional, she will be able to sticker a lot faster.

She sits quietly, taking one sticker off the sheet and carefully placing it on her piece of paper. She works slowly, methodically, patiently, until she is done.

These are all qualities I never really recognized in her, but that she’s had all along. It’s funny how as a parent, you can impose your belief of who the child is, over who they actually are. Believing that you know them better than they know themselves.

The proof is in the pudding. Or in this case, the stickering.

She is entirely her own being, with no engrained people pleasing tendencies. She does what she loves, even when we laugh at her.

She dances whenever she hears music- in the aisles of stores, at hockey games, at church. She doesn’t sugar coat things. And there is a heck of a lot I could learn from her.

The idea that kids know less than us, that they shouldn’t be taken as seriously, can’t be right. Sure, maybe they don’t know physics, but I think they have a greater understanding of some things then we as adults do, because their brains haven’t been taken over by social norms and people pleasing tendencies.

They have an abundance of wonder.

She is a thinker. She won’t always respond immediately, but within hours or days, she will respond to situations with insightful thoughts.

And sure, I’m her mom. So maybe I am biased, but she’s pretty incredible.

She taught me to dance when I am happy. That sometimes, a good cry is all you need to wipe your tears and move on. To think outside the box. To relax.

She is perfect as she is, and I love every inch of her.

Happy Birthday, Alice Jane!

Love, Mama

Alice Quotes of the Year:

“It is an old car! It is missing part of the roof!” – Alice on antique corvette

Avery asked Alice if she could borrow some stuffed animals. Alice replied, “No you called them babies last time so you have lost your privilege!”

Alice informed me that her dolls real mom died when she fell into a volcano, but that before she fell in, she asked Alice to take care of her baby when she died.

I told Alice there would be consequences if she came downstairs during quiet time, to which she reliped, “There will be consequences for YOU, if YOU don’t get your butt up here right now!”

“We can only yell if there’s an emergency or if we are pooping during quiet time.”

We were waiting for a gap in traffic so I could turn left and Alice yelled, “Come on buddy! C’mon grandpa!” She got my road rage.

When Avery and Alice argue, I remind them to say, “I don’t agree with you, but I still love and respect you.” Alice has turned it into, “I don’t agree with you, AND I don’t respect you.”

Avery draws pictures of Jesus’ family and Alice draws pictures entitled, “The Two Runaway Children” and, “Evil Daddy Shrinking Mommy”.

Thirty One

I’m just going to go ahead and admit that I like birthdays almost as much as I did when I was five. Maybe more, now that they can include margaritas.

There is a certain delight that surrounds getting cards and packages in the mail. My mom always feels compelled to write on the packages she sends, “Do NOT open until your birthday.” It’s as if she knows I still lack self control at the young age of 31.

This year she forgot to write it on the package, so she called me to tell me not to open it until my birthday. And it’s a good thing, because I would have opened it otherwise.

I like how the day feels special from start to finish; with even the mundane feeling extraordinary. Flossing my teeth is a lot more fun on my birthday, maybe because of the sense of gratitude I have for another year of eating without dentures.

When I visited the dentist last month, they had a section on the sheet asking what my dental goals were. Unsure of what they were looking for, I wrote, “Avoid dentures and root canals.”

My dental goals were just like my birth plan, simple and to the point: “Give me an epidural ASAP, and keep the baby alive.” The nurses liked that one. Also, I wanted Chad to play “Push it” by Salt N Peppa while I was pushing, but he refused.

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I like the sound of thirty-one. It doesn’t end in the deeeeeee sound that thirty ends in. It sounds more concise. Knowledgeable. Wise?

This year’s birthday was full of my favorite things: A run in the morning, a chai tea latte, browsing a book store, opening packages and cards, chik-fil-a, writing, kayaking with the manatees, dinner with Chad & the girls, my in-laws and some friends, margaritas, better than sex cake made by my amazing mother in law, and yes, that is the honest name, despite the number of eyebrows it raises.

I’m not saying that the name of the cake is accurate, but I will vouch for it being super delicious.

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If you haven’t had the chance to kayak with manatees, I’d highly recommend it. Manatees are simultaneously one of the ugliest and cutest creatures. (Please, manatees, teach me your ways.) They are HUGE, with small little heads and creepy/adorable black eyes, and whiskers covering their bodies.

It is terrifying and awe inspiring when they swim under your kayak. It makes me think about Moby Dick, because I fear my kayak will capsize. I imagine I am in the ocean, kayaking over a blue whale; but alas, it is just me in a river with a manatee. Just the right amount of adventure for this boring thirty one year old.

Also, I’ve never read Moby Dick so please excuse me if nothing about Moby Dick relates to capsizing kayaks. The picture on the cover just makes me think it might.

Did you know that manatees are related to elephants? And that they aren’t actually fat, they just have super huge intestines? Neither did I. Now you’ve learned something from my blog, after almost 2 years of reading it. Thanks for hanging in there.

It’s the 31 year old wisdom I’m channeling.

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Two of my friends came for the weekend. One, I’ve known since babyhood, and for the other, since high school. They are the kind of friends that know so much of your history that conversations can quickly go deep since little explanation is required of past events.

As we watched the sunset together, on a chilly by FL standards night, we huddled close, wrapped tightly in beach towels. We had spent the past 3 hours discussing the bad and good that had made up our last year.

We all experienced different forms of loss. COVID changed a lot. Life changed a lot. We are not the same people who we were when we ran together in high school. Quite contrary, we all changed significantly through the different routes we chose to take through life.

On the beach, it seemed for a moment, that we had made it to the other side off the loss, the change. For a moment, we were suspended in the beauty of orange hues that lit our existence as the sun slipped down in the sky. We had made it through the past, we were sitting firmly grounded in the present, toes rooted in the sand, and for a minute, there wasn’t the future to worry about.

It was a beautiful moment. And then we smelled pot.

We looked around, trying to figure out who the guilty party was… but realized everyone was looking at US.

Now maybe I look like a pot smoker. To be honest, I don’t really know what a pot smoker looks like, but I envision baggy pants. That’s it, just baggy pants. I wasn’t wearing baggy pants.

*Steps on soapbox.

I’ve never smoked pot in my life. I’ve never done it, period. Because, you know… there are many ways to do it. If I were to DO IT, I would eat the gummies. Because I like gummies. But I think I like control too much to do pot.

I’m sure no one is shocked by this confession.

ANYWAY.

The funny thing is, that of all people on the beach, we were the least likely to be the pot smokers. In high school, we were the goodie goods. We left a party once because someone was smoking a cigar.

We were very risk adverse. Our parents had nothing to worry about and they knew it.

When we returned home from the party, I told my mom what had happened, wide eyed. (Again, let me reiterate, someone was smoking out of a cigar, so basically nothing happened). I’m pretty sure my mom had to suppress laughter.

So back to the beach. It smelled like pot and everyone was staring at us. The sun had set, so we packed up our things to leave.

As we walked to the parking lot, a guy yelled, “Hey, smelled like you were having fun over there!” We shook our heads and shrugged, “Wasn’t us!” He continued, “I was about to send Grandma over!” And then a Grandma looking lady waved her hands and cheered.

She looked like fun. Maybe someday, I will be fun like her.

But not for awhile. Today Avery told me that she wants to move to a different state because, “I don’t like living with grumpy people.”

Shots fired, Avery.

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I bet you’re wondering how I’m going to conclude a blog post that covered the topics of birthdays, dentures, better than sex cake, “Push it” by Salt n Peppa, manatees, best friends, sunsets, and pot.

I also, am wondering the same thing.

Sometimes, life gives us a beautiful narrative, a storyline that is easy to follow. More often, it’s a mod podge collage of events that somehow make it onto the same poster board.

This past year of life has been a beautiful mess. It produced quite a few finished puzzles, melt downs, half marathons, quarantines, sunsets, zoom meet ups, clorox wipes (or lack thereof), and moments of quiet.

Here’s to another one,

Laura

PS- The blog posts might be fewer and farther between. I’m currently taking a creative writing class, which I am absolutely loving, but it does cut into my free time to write for the blog. The class ends at the end of April and things should pick back up around then.

Avery Marie 5.0

I remember snippets. It was a cold day. I think there was snow. I hadn’t been feeling quite right. I figured I was fatigued or had a bug. But just to be sure, I stopped at a CVS to pick up a pregnancy test. It was three weeks after Chad and I married and barely a week since we had returned from our honeymoon.

“This will probably be something I laugh about after I take it and it comes back negative,” I thought as I waited in line for the cashier to ring me up.

The next snippet in my brain flashes to watching the pregnancy test turn positive in our apartment bathroom in downtown Minneapolis. I shouted to Chad, “uh… you better come here.”

Instead of thinking, “wow, I’m pregnant,” I thought, “Dang, I must have a brain tumor” (a very rare reason pregnancy tests are positive when in fact the woman is not). Chad of course believed that the pregnancy test couldn’t possibly be right, so we stopped at Target to pick up five pregnancy tests and red Gatorade.

Five positive pregnancy tests and half a Gatorade later, the statistics were clear enough for Chad to be convinced that I was pregnant, and a state of shock set in.

Avery’s pregnancy was not an easy one. It was full of nausea, vomiting, and fainting spells. I lost 10 pounds in the first trimester. I fainted in the heart transplant meeting at work (yes, it is super embarrassing to faint in front of a group of cardiologists).

I fainted on the bathroom floor in front of a very concerned Chad. I insisted I hadn’t fully passed out as he hurried me to the Emergency Department. “Well do you remember when I slapped your face?,” he asked.

I was incredulous. “No. Why would you do that?”

“To wake you up.” This is what happens when you put an actuary in a medical situation.

Needless to say, I was anxious to give birth by my due date. But consistent with her feisty and stubborn personality, Avery arrived nine days late.

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As I lay laboring in the hospital bed, I wondered out loud, “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready to be a mom. What if the baby hates me?” My midwife looked down and smiled, “You will be a great mom. Your baby will love you and you will love her, just wait and see.”

I had assumed that once Avery popped out, I would be filled with eternal joy and everything would make sense, and we would live happily ever after. I expected her birth would be peaceful. There would be soft lighting, classical music and tears of joy.

Instead, I lay writhing on a hospital bed, buck naked, while a team of 2 doctors, a midwife, the entire c-section team, neonatologist, and NICU team watched, aided by very fluorescent lights for their optimal viewing pleasure.

I added to the zen by glaring directly at the doctors and loudly asking, “Why is there a finger up my butt hole?” To which the doctor apologized, “Sorry ma’am, I’m trying to prevent you from tearing.” What a chivalrous guy. Classical music and soft lighting my a**.

I was told that the baby was in trouble and I had one last shot to push her out before they were going to rush me to c-section. I somehow mustered enough strength and was soon greeted by a very blue creature.

In my nurse brain, I classified the situation as bad. I watched as they attempted to intubate her three times, with her sats dropping into the 50’s. Fourth time was the charm, and they sped her out of the room with Chad following closely behind.

After I was stitched up, the room cleared. It was just me and my postpartum belly which was disappointingly not flat at all. A timid aide poked her head in the door to ask if she could get me some toast.

I was pretty sure I was a mom now, but I didn’t see a cute, cuddly baby anywhere in sight. Toast in this moment didn’t make sense. I wanted my baby, not toast. So I declined.

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Two hours later I was wheeled to the special care unit to meet Avery. Luckily her intubation was short lived and she was able to breath on her own once they suctioned a mucus plug out of her lungs.

They wheeled me up to an incubator and informed me that this was my baby. I peered inside. I saw a chunky, beat-up baby, with adorable fuzzy hair.

Cute, but blonde. Couldn’t be my kid.

The kind NICU nurse tried to teach me how to breastfeed. But, Avery just wanted to sleep and so did I. After an hour of futile latching attempts, Chad wheeled me back to our room, leaving fuzzy blondie behind. “See you in 2 hours!,” the NICU nurse called behind us. What a joke, I thought as I shook my head, I push out a baby and I don’t even get to sleep to recover?

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Parenthood wasn’t what I expected. For me, there wasn’t an immediate joy or love.

It was around 3 months when Avery started smiling and interacting more, when my heart melted and I fell in love.

She patiently taught me that kids are resilient. That I don’t need to be a perfectionist to be a good parent. That formula isn’t the devil, and in fact worked just fine.

She taught me that peek-a-boo is hilarious (because the adult looks like an idiot), and to giggle like a maniac. She reminded me that it’s okay to cry when you’re sad, and to scream in delight with excitement.

The emotions of kids haven’t been dulled by societal norms. In fact, nothing about kids is really bound by norms. They march to the beat of their own drums. And that, is admirable.

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We are coming up on Avery’s FIFTH birthday. She starts preschool on Monday.

She is no longer a pot-bellied toddler. Her legs are long and browned by the sun. Her sentences are no longer 3 words strung together, she speaks in rivers of words, effortlessly constructing stories (or bossing us around). Thank goodness she has maintained the same deep and infectious giggle of babyhood.

She has definitely acquired the first child personality. She stands with her hand on her hip and bosses us all around, while carrying on a conversation over her play cell phone.

She is sweet and gorgeous, courageous and cautious. She can negotiate like a terrorist. She’s firey. She’s stubborn in the best and worst way. The girl will go places, mark my words.

The midwife was right. I love Avery and she loves me. Maybe we followed a non-traditional path to get there. She patiently and stubbornly taught me who she is, and in learning who she is, I fell deep in love.

Happy Birthday, Aves!

Love,

Mama

“You’re doing good”

We walked out of the clinic into the bright sunlight. By “walked”, I mean, Avery and Alice ran like maniacs while I power walked behind them with my mom-ly muffin top jiggling, yelling things like “Red light!” or “slow down” or “don’t let a car squish you!”

All of a sudden, the girls came to a halt. I knew it couldn’t be that they were actually listening to my pleads from behind, so I looked ahead.

There it was, the golf cart. You see, in Florida, not only do we have PLENTY of parking, which is a stark contrast to my Minneapolis upbringing, but Florida is gloriously set up for old people. And so, despite the fact that we only parked about 20 steps from the clinic doors, they have a golf cart shuttle that brings you from the front door to your car.

Yes, I know. It’s fantastic. The potential for laziness here is incredible. It’s why I have a muffin top.

The girls always insist we take a golf cart ride to our car, so we push all the old people with walkers and wheelchairs out of the way, and climb aboard.

Just kidding, we don’t do that. I mean, we don’t do the pushing the old people part. We do ride the golf cart though.

The golf cart is always driven by a 60+ year old, typically wearing a golf shirt and visor. I’m not sure if you needed to know this, but I’m just sharing the deets.

This particular ride was a good one. It wasn’t your typical boring ride. It started with the golf cart guy leaning back and whispering to the girls, “it’s my first day on the job, sorry if the ride is crazy.” He preceded to swerve through the parking lot while the girls giggled up a storm.

Was it an act? Or was it truly his first day, and had he indulged in a few cocktails prior? I will never know. Either way, it was brilliant of him.

As he screeched to a stop in front of our car approximately 15 seconds later, the girls hopped out and thanked him after I reminded them to say thank you. (I’ve noticed that 85% of my sentences as a parent are, “Say thank you!”, with forced cheeriness.)

As I mentally prepared for the arduous task of buckling two kids into car seats (car seats are the worst), golf cart man drove off, turning back to yell, “You’re doing good, mom!” And my heart melted.

I truly believe these are some of the kindest and best words a parent can hear, even better if they come from a total stranger. Best, if they are spoken after a totally ordinary moment, not when I’m being a show-off parent and drilling my kid on the ABC’s in the grocery store line.

We were at the doctor because I was pretty sure Alice had an ear infection. Sure enough, she did. And for bonus points, she also had the flu.

The flu was a surprising diagnosis because she wasn’t really acting sick enough to have the flu. The resilience of kids is mind boggling. When I have the flu, I am on deaths door.

Being the good citizen that I am, I cancelled all of our plans for the next few days and quarantined the kids.

But quarantine is boring and we were recently stuck inside after Avery’s ear surgery, so the thought of spending all my time inside with the kids was daunting.

In one of my brightest moments of all parenting time, I made the decision to combine flu quarantine with potty training for Alice. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?

Right.

The method of potty training we chose is called “The Naked Method”: you let your kid run around naked from waist down and pray for the best. I like to call it the “Naked and Afraid Method” .

Golf cart man’s kind words echoed in my head as I cleaned up pee off the floor the first two times and I nodded. “Yes, I am doing good,” I agreed, pleased with myself.

The third time I was cleaning pee off the floor, his words once again echoed in my head, and I thought to myself, “I really am a good mom, look at me, not losing it after cleaning pee up all day!”

After this thought crossed my brain, a child who shall not be named knocked a bowl of soggy wheaties off the table, then got up and tracked the soggy wheaties across our entire living space.

It was then that I lost it and decided that I must not be a good mom after all. It’s funny how things can turn so quickly.

The great news is that after peeing on the floor 6 times in one day, Alice woke up the next morning and was basically potty trained. By “basically” I mean, she hasn’t had any accidents except for the one time she peed while she was in the shower, but some people do that on purpose, so… I cannot judge her intentions. Maybe it wasn’t an accident.

In other news, we celebrated my father-in-law’s birthday on 2/17.

Approximately 2 days after I mailed out Christmas cards this year, I received a call from my father-in-law, Doug at 9pm. He wanted to discuss the Christmas card I had sent out.

Yes, he liked the pictures, but he was distraught that I hadn’t included in our note on that back of the card that we are able to spend endless time with Doug and Nancy given that our FL home is 7 minutes from their Florida home.

And so, given that this is his Birthday Month, I’d like to spell out my gratitude for Doug Onstot, especially now that we live so close to each other.

When I first met Doug, I was a nervous girlfriend, trying my best to impress Chad’s parents. I was a city girl, through and through.

Doug, being Doug, decided to welcome me to Iowa (and the family) by taking Chad and I for a ride in his new ranger.

As he whipped up and down ditches and across empty cornfields, I saw my life flash before my eyes. I was sandwiched between Doug and Chad and there wasn’t a whole lot of room.

Doug was clearly pleased with his new ranger and his driving abilities, as he calmly smiled and kept glancing over at Chad and I, probably enjoying the look of pure terror in our eyes. My terror was rooted in my hate for speed, Chad’s terror was likely rooted in the fact that he knew exactly what his father was capable of (and didn’t want to lose such a catch of a girlfriend).

On first impression, I gathered that Doug liked going fast, he was loud and the life of the party, and everyone in Indianola, Iowa knew him.

After 5 years of marriage into the Onstot family, I can attest that all of the above first impressions are true. But I will also say that over time, my understanding of Doug has evolved.

When Avery was born, I got to experience the Papa in him. I watched as this loud man with big hands held my sweet girls when they were babies, rocking them to sleep in his recliner.

Doug watches Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with the girls on Saturday mornings. He teaches them about combines and tractors, but has also acquired a knowledge of Disney Princesses and the Paw Patrol.

What I’m trying to say here is that underneath his tough facade, he has the sweetest soft spot for his grandkids.

The other thing I like about Doug? I never have to guess what he’s thinking. He is filter free, generally speaking… and in this politically correct culture that shies away from offending anybody, I find it refreshing.

“Remember how big your ass got when you were pregnant?” Yes, Doug, I remember.

I think I will end my post on those words. Sending love to all back home,

Laura

Talking to Dolphins & Feeding the Fish

“Happy Birthday, self,” I thought as I watched beautiful tropical fish swarm the top of the turquoise blue water, feasting on my vomit.

Let me back up.

Since I am now filled with 30 years of wisdom, I told Chad what I wanted for my birthday, rather than making his poor soul guess. I informed him that I wanted a surprise trip.

“Is it really a surprise if you know it’s coming?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling as if he thought I hadn’t already considered this conundrum. Men. I told him as long as I didn’t know location, it would be a good enough surprise.

In the days leading up to the trip, I couldn’t contain my excitement or my nosiness. Thus, I insisted that we add a new rule- Chad would provide one clue per day on where we would be going.

And so, Chad, the most patient person I know, continued to play the game by my rules, doling out a clue per day.

But if you know me, you know that I am extremely geographically challenged AND impatient. Rules were quickly amended so that Chad could provide multiple clues per day.

2 days before the trip, rules were overthrown and I demanded that he tell me where we were going.

Chad had planned a trip to Marathon, FL, which is one of the islands on the chain of islands leading up to Key West.

We dropped the kids off with my (amazing) in-laws and road tripped of to our final destination, which was about 4 hours away, taking us through Miami (yes, on Superbowl weekend), through a chunk of the Everglades, and finally, across multiple islands linked together by bridges.

Marathon, FL won me over with it’s southern architecture, rocky beaches, and lighthouses. There was an uncharacteristic to Florida chill in the air that reminded me of Duluth.

Despite the fact that Chad isn’t a huge fan of ocean swimming, he put on his “husband of the year” swim trunks and ventured out snorkeling with me.

That is exactly how I found myself jumping into the choppy waters of the Atlantic ocean. If I had to rank nature experiences I’ve had in my life, this was by far, one of the coolest.

The turquoise waters are beautiful on surface level, but a whole new world opened up the moment we jumped into the water.

We were surrounded by schools of brightly colored fish, underwater mountains of coral, and forests of purple sea fans dancing in the surge of waves. We watched in silent terror and glee as a massive green eel stuck his creepy head out of a crevice below.

Being submerged in this underwater world was fascinating. And yet, despite the magic of the moment, after an hour of being pushed and pulled by the crashing waves, my stomach was not impressed. The salt water tasted too salty, and my stomach alerted me that it was time to puke.

I crawled out water and hoisted myself back up onto the boat. The captain took one look at me and said, “Why don’t you go talk to the dolphins?” while pointing his thumb toward the back of the boat.

And that is precisely how I found myself hurling into the beautiful waters, only to realize that the tropical fish loved my regurgitated sub sandwich. (TMI? Sorry.) The islander sitting next to me flashed a toothless smile as he watched the fish feast on my puke and sighed, “Nothing goes to waste here, does it?”

While the snorkeling trip involved bodily fluid, it was a weird but fitting way to mark the start of my 30’s.

Life, I’ve learned, rarely has 100% perfect moments. And if I wait only for those, I wouldn’t have much to celebrate. But A LOT of life has not quite perfect moments that are full of mistakes or bodily fluids or tough spots.

I’ve realized that embracing the not quite so perfect moments makes life became a hell of a lot more enjoyable.

So here’s to embracing the imperfect moments our lives are weaved together by. Here’s to talking to dolphins, feeding the fish, and finding joy in the experience.

Wishing you all the best,

Laura

PS- For all who are wondering, Avery’s surgery went very smoothly. Thank you for the thoughts and prayers!