More Hawaii Love

Oh baby, would you please look at what I just learned how to do...*

More delirious fun from Craig, Julia, and Linda's trip to beautiful Maui in July. They took surfing lessons, went ziplining, took helicopter tours, traveled the road to Hana, went to a luau, swam in the hotel pool, snorkeled, and enjoyed scrumptious meals and tropical drinks all the live-long day.

(That is, when they weren't sitting around pining for moi.)

They had so much fun that I {almost} was not jealous that they were playing in paradise while I stayed here and got sweaty in the desert.

P.S. *Blogging will officially never be the same.

Fall Dreaming

Craig and Julia sent me this picture when they were in Hawaii this summer:

 (I'm pretty sure they just happened upon it, and didn't actually make it, but it still made me smile.)

I also got this one... 

...and this one.

Makes me think about what a beautiful planet we live on, and what a gift it is to see sights like this.

It also, strangely, makes me think of our upcoming fall here in Phoenix and its requisite lovely weather. There is beauty to be seen all year round here if you are looking for it, but I admit that my very favorite sights are the ones I spy while I'm wearing pants.

And preferably a sweater.
(But at least pants.)

Bring it, Arizona.

Never Too Late to Say "I'm Sorry"

Dear Left Hand,

I have to admit it. I owe you an apology. Up until now, I have considered myself the Most Important One. The Hardest Worker. The Only One That Really Matters.

It took you getting hurt for me to realize just how much I depend on you. I mean sure, I'm the one that opens jars and wipes bottoms; that's why I've always gotten all the glory, why I have puffed myself up into believing that you didn't matter.  But you were always there: the silent helper that handed me the toilet paper. The stalwart assistant that held the jar still so that I could unscrew the top. The partner in hand-washing, clapping, and showering. You have worked just as hard as I have at getting children dressed, typing on the keyboard, making dinner, giving baths. Maybe I brush the teeth, but you squeeze the toothpaste. Maybe I hold the knife, but you steady the vegetables.

So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have always taken you for granted. Sorry that I thought I was better than you.

I miss you. I love you. Sweeping just isn't the same without you. Please get better soon.

Sincerely,

Right Hand

Rare Quiet

At 6:17 a.m., the house is still quiet. 

The girls are up. 

(I am not.)

I am still finishing up on my beloved Mommy sleep while they are getting up and getting ready for the day. (This is their choice, not mine; their alarm clock isn't due to go off until 6:30).

Since I typically miss out on these few moments of relative stillness, before the real bustle of the day begins, I was glad that Savanna, for whatever reason, picked up the camera and captured some of the rare, quaint quietness that resides in the house for those few early morning minutes. 

Our house faces west and you better believe that that sunshine  blasts

 through with its bad self each and every morning to greet us for the day.

It blasts straight through to the family room, and for just a couple of solid minutes, perfect 

sweeping conditions exist; that's right, you can see EVERYTHING on that lovely wood floor.

The craft table is clean...for the moment
(Alexa calls it the "decorating table." Linda calls it "that table that I
loaned you guys when you were having people over for dinner that
 you never returned and have since started using as a craft table.")

The television is OFF

The blocks are ready to be picked up and played with again

(good thing we left them out last night!)

And the day's work is ready to begin

I am not a morning person, in any sense of the word. 

But something about these pictures (and the cutie-head that took them!) just makes me smile.

big. hair.

That's right, it's a big hair day today. This is what happens when I wash my hair but can't blow-dry or straighten it. My sweet mother-in-law offered to straighten it for me, but by the time she got here this morning (to help with Spencer again, because she is a-MA-zing), big hair had already taken over and there was no going back.

Craig says it doesn't look like me. I say, this is the REAL me. Straight hair Katie is technically the impostor.

Speaking of Craig, he washed my hair this morning. Because he is a champ. (Thanks, babe.)        

Who are the champions in your life?