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Month: May 2017

Huntington Beach 2017

Monday 29 May 2017

We put it off several times: once, because someone was sick; a second time, because the timing was no longer convenient. Did we put it off a third time? I can't remember. But this weekend has been a long time in the making. We were originally going to spend last Labor Day weekend at Huntington Beach, but we ended up spending Memorial Day -- that seems appropriate, timing-wise, as they two three-day weekends bookend the school year.

We first went about six years ago.

Huntington 1

We fell in love immediately. We went back again at some point, but none of us can remember when exactly. It was pre-E, for sure, but that's about all we can remember. Perhaps the link above is to our second visit? it all gets smeared in the memory. I reread the entry and find this:

Her first beach experience, some two years ago, was moderately traumatic for her. The sound of the waves terrified her, and the waves were forever chasing her form the water’s edge when she finally got the nerve to approach.

This year was different.

That first time at the ocean was at Edisto, so this must be have been our first time at Huntington. Still, it's only a year before the Boy's birth: when did we go again, pre-E? Again, smeared it the memory.

So I want to set about to to write down all the details of this experience I can remember, knowing that if I don't, I won't remember it. But I set out doing so with the understanding that I will only pick and choose, letting the pictures do the rest.

The first day we arrived and, after setting up camp, headed out to the beach. The Girl took her boogie board out to test the waves; the Boy, after a few minutes, turned to the gigantic sand box that lay all around him. Then they switched. That pretty much sums up the entire weekend: playing in the sand, playing in the waves. After all, what else can you do at the beach?

But there were the subtle changes. L, no longer afraid of the water, gradually found the courage to go out with me a little further than before, looking for more boggie-board-able waves. The Boy was at first reticent to go far beyond the last little crests and bubbles of waves that had been churning inland for some tens of feet. He finally found the courage, with a little help from K and me, to go out further, and to require less of a reassuring hand while doing so.

Day two started at Brookgreen Gardens. "We've been here three times now -- we have to go," declared K. It is famous for its sculptures, a fact interested me and bored L -- until she started seeing statues from Greek mythology, her current obsession thanks to the Percy Jackson series.

The final day -- another morning on the beach.

A perfect weekend, over all.

Batting Practice

Sunday 21 May 2017

Fifth Birthday Party

Saturday 20 May 2017

The Boy woke up at six this morning, ready to go. He'd been worried since Wednesday when he came home with a fever: "Will I be okay by my party?" he asked. Certainly. So this morning, he had his materials packed -- cars and guns and other toys stuffed into the book bag Nana and Papa gave him for his birthday earlier in the week -- and by the door by half-past-seven.

Later in the morning, he was packing his goodie bags for his guests, filling them with the Polish sweets he and K had chosen at the local Russian store (of course it's called "Euro Market" or something similar, but like most Euro Markets, it seems, it's a Russian owner). I sat down and glanced at the "Time Machine" links just at the bottom of the page as is my Saturday morning custom, and there was a post about holding the Boy when he was just a few weeks old.

Holding

Long gone are the days when you can hold him in the crook of your arm. Now it's difficult to pick him up. When he falls asleep in Mass, it's always in K's arms, and I almost always end up holding him during the Liturgy of the Eucharist, which means figuring out a way to kneel and hold a sack of concrete.

By the time it was actually time to head to the party, the Boy was more than ready, all nearly-fifty pounds of him.

The party itself was bliss for him. Many of his friends from pre-school came, as well as neighbors and kids from the Polish community. K brought some games for everyone to play, including a sack race, but in the end, what was most successful was what was simplest: E's toys.

The Girl, though was sick, which accounts for her absence as well as Nana's and Papa's.

Sick Day

Thursday 18 May 2017

Morning inside; afternoon, once he's feeling better, outside.

Hanging Out with Scouts

Wednesday 17 May 2017

Two Concerts

Tuesday 16 May 2017

The Girl sang in her school's talent show this morning. She sang "Dziś idę walczyć, Mamo!" which is a song about the Warsaw Uprising. She's been practicing it for weeks. I've found myself humming it as I walk down the corridor at school. E sings snippets of it every now and then. K sings it as she's working around the house. It's infected our whole family, but what a wonderful infection.

After dinner, we got another concert, a performance of a music that's thousands and thousands of years old, a music that both calms and excites.

The owls have nested in our neighbors' backyard, and they came down for a visit today. The would sing and hoot, caterwaul and even almost purr. It was hypnotic.

First Communion

Sunday 14 May 2017

L's First Communion was two years ago. So quickly have those two years melted away than I still find it somewhat surprising when I see L lining up for communion. It's one of those milestones in life -- your own and your children's -- that we all remember it.

The Boy still has three years to go. When he first lines up in the communion line, L will be at the tail end of her seventh-grade year.

And at that point, I'll likely be writing about how it's incredible that it's been five years since L's First Communion.

Mother’s Day Early

Saturday 13 May 2017

Saturday is always busy. This time of year, the lawn always needs a trim, and hedges often need their season's taming. Tomato plants are starting to blossom, literally and figuratively, so it's time to stake them. All fairly common late-spring Saturday work. Today, though, was a little different because of timing: tomorrow we will be going to a friend's First Communion, so the Mother's Day celebration had to be rescheduled.

Since I've neglected K's vehicle the last few weeks, the Boy and I decided it was time to clean Mama's car -- well, that's not exactly how it happened, but it sounds better that way. So the first thing we tackled today was the interior of the car. Every surface was exposed to an area of low pressure -- e.g., vacuumed -- and then wiped down. The Boy to the windshield rag and wiped down the parts of the exterior that, concealed by closed doors, never really get clean from normal washing. And of course, with the two of us involved, there was a bit of playing as well.

Afterward, the lawn got its weekly trim and the Girl prepared her Mother's Day present for Nana.

Our Mother's Day celebration isn't the only thing tomorrow's First Communion throws off, though. Tomorrow is the Boy's birthday. "I'll be a five-year-old tomorrow," was a common refrain today.

So after dinner came presents. It's a sign of his growing maturity that only a couple of the presents was a toy: a small jeep and trailer set that he took to bed with him and a Lego set that he will put together with Papa on Monday. The rest of the gifts were practical, useful even. A backpack -- an appropriate, camouflaged design -- will get its first test in a month when we head off to Poland. "And I'll use it in K5 for all those big books!" he explained excitedly. A new cycling helmet to match his new bike. A flashlight so he doesn't have to keep borrowing mine. "Daddy, I just need to..." So perhaps more than a couple of toys.

I sit writing this and glance down at the clock: five years ago, we would be leaving for the hospital in about an hour. It was Sunday night, and I was just about to drift off to sleep, some time around eleven, when K woke me and said we had to get to the hospital. A couple of hours later, we were holding the Boy in our arms. And now, in a few hours, he'll be the same age -- year-wise -- as L was when he was born.

In another five years? The Girl will be almost old enough to begin learning to drive. She'll be in her second year of high school. Entirely new worries, concerns that are now non-existent, will likely consume me. Boys will no longer be icky. A moment of inattention could result in more than just a broken glass. Her grades in school will no longer be of little consequence.

Five years used to seem like such a long time...

Thursday Evening

Thursday 11 May 2017

We get our shoes on and head down to the swing. Mama has kicked us out: she can only do two things at a time, and she's currently baking and helping L with something, so we're on our own.

We play around a bit, here and there, but a hard-workin' fella can play only so long before he grows restless. He'll pick up any sort of tool he can find and get to work, because what's the point of doing otherwise?

You might protest and suggest, "You're just a kid. Take it easy!" But you'll get a protest in return.

Eventually, I manage to get the hard worker to take a break and play a little bit. We go exploring, looking for more honeysuckle. It's all dried up. We head to our favorite spot in the creek. But nothing's really satisfying.

We head to our hideout to spy on our neighbors, but they leave soon and we sit there.

"What do you want to do?" I ask.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?" he responds.

"Whatever you want to do. I just want you to be happy."

"I just want you to be happy."

What makes us both happy for a time is to carry on with such silliness, but it's getting late, and soon, the Boy will need a bath. Tugging off his shoes, he notices how dirty his ankles are at the sock line. Smiling, he repeats his favorite saying: "It was a good day."

K is still baking when we get back in the house. The cake didn't turn out as she wished, so she's doing it again. She's like that. A perfectionist. I'd probably just go buy something, but not our K.