How do you know your kid is sweet?

When you do this with the sidewalk chalk:

 And you look outside later and see this:

Fishing!

Fishing is not something I have ever liked.  This is because (1) I hated salmon when I was a kid and my dad seemed to always come home with some for dinner when he went fishing, (2) sometimes my dad made Em and me actually wake up early and go fishing with him (I vividly remember Em getting a fish hook caught in her sock and Dad throwing it overboard), and (3) it seems a little bit mean (although my Uncle Don assured me that a hook in the stomach of one of these bullheads would rust away in no time because its in salt water).

My kids, however, adore it.  How do I know this? Because my very sweet Aunt Jan bought them fishing poles (Batman for Tommy, pwincess for Lizzie) and then she and my Uncle Don took them out on the dock along with some bacon for bait (who knew?) to catch bullheads.  (These are not the kind of fish you eat.)  It was incredibly exciting and I, who had promised my Uncle Don that the fishing activity would last no longer than twenty minutes, am forced to acknowledge some interest on the part of both of my children in this activity.  However, I would be interested to see how they do baiting their own hooks and then actually having to get fish on the line without help from an adult.  (All my kids really did was reel them in, and sometimes not even that much.)

Getting ready to head onto the dock with the beautiful fishing pole.

Uncle Don and Lizzie.

Aunt Jan and Tommy.

Uncle Don:  it's odd, but he seems to be fishing with a small, pink plastic fishing pole?
I have no idea what his macho fishermen friends would say about this..

Learning how to stand with your catch.

See me? Totally not paying attention to fishing or my children?

Grandma's Farewell...

My readers will notice in the coming days that I seem to be a little bit mixed up, because I have many posts to write about events which occurred before this one.  But, my brain is a little bit scattered (what's new) and I'm an external processor as you all know (because really what other type of person has a blog?) and so please just hang in there.

Last week, the Kent family (minus Em-Sid-Dylan and Will-Cassi) went to Hood Canal to put Grandma's ashes in with Grandpa.  Aunt Jan and Uncle Vyn have a place there and we've all been going for years, so it made a lot of sense to say goodbye to Grandma there.  

Aunt Jan did a great job planning Grandma's final send-off, and Mom did a great job documenting it.  Kudos also to our skipper Raymond who let both Lizzie and Tommy steer (Lulu in a squiggly line and Tommy in a circle).

I looked back at these pictures and was pleased to see that we all mostly look happy in them -- it was a nice morning and that seems like what Grandma would've wanted it to be...

See the Blue Heron on the boat? We must've seen 50 of them.  Or the same few multiple times over the week.

Uncle Don almost fell off.  Except not really.

Preparing the biodegradable lanterns.

Teaching a six-year old how to use a corkscrew on a bottle of Two Buck Chuck, Grandma's favorite.

Max - everybody's new best friend - and Lulu.

We each threw a handful of ashes in.

Lulu had ashes in her hair and all over her lifejacket.  A tiny bit gross.

Holy Guacamole

Look how cute Em's baby is.  I just want to eat him up.

He's so tiny.

WHERE???

Sometimes you have to laugh at yourself and I am good at acknowledging those times.  My mom took these photos yesterday at Will and Cassi's wedding (more to come on that later) and we have been laughing about them all morning.  

The scene:  Tommy runs up to Max and me to announce that there is a HOT AIR BALLOON.  But Max and I can't see it as it is hidden behind some trees...

Where have I been??

I returned on Wednesday from spending three days in Davis (near Sacramento) with one of my very best friends ever, Sarah.  She and her husband and baby boy (Santiago, see below) just moved to Davis from Boston so Sarah can get her Ph.D.  They were all very welcoming despite being in the midst of moving into their apartment.  Not a well-timed visit on my part but I did manage to help unpack the china and to help with Santiago a tiny bit.  

He is a gem of a baby.  He's not fussy, and he's incredibly friendly and smiley (I wish I'd taken more photos of him as it's strange that I did not manage to take any of his gorgeous smile).  He let me hold him pretty much from the moment I met him which was very flattering.

My favorite thing that happened is I took him into a restaurant to order lunch, and the man who took our order was sort of different looking (I will refrain from a description) but Santiago saw him and burst into tears!  The restaurant guy scared him, though I'm not really sure why.  I flipped him against my shoulder and carried on ordering, which was really the only thing to do even though the guy knew that the baby was crying because of him.

This little guy has enough cheeks for two babies:

Northwest Trek with Melora and Margaret

I like to pretend that there are people reading this blog who do not know me or my family.  These are people who think that I'm interesting enough to check my blog every couple of weeks and see what we're up to.  This is likely delusional, but in case there are people like that, I should start this post by explaining that I grew up in Seattle.  I was born here and I lived here until I went to college, and then again for a couple of years (well, almost) after college.  I consider myself to be a Seattle girl.  I like to think that I know my way around the city fairly well (not really true anymore), and sometimes I even pretend I'm a Washington State girl (but that is absolutely not true).  This post is about a Seattle-area gem of a park that I had never visited before this summer.  For 37 years I could've been going to Northwest Trek and wasn't!!  

On Friday, Melora and Margaret invited the kids and me to come with them to Northwest Trek.  I was reluctant because it's not close, but Melora totally talked me into it even if I chuckled and called her a biologist (she is one) when she used the word 'cool' to describe the animal habitats.  (Note:  Melora is sort of like a personal guide so if you decide to go you might invite her along.)

The kids and I had a hectic morning because we wanted to open the place up at 9:30 and it's an hour drive from my parents' house.  You wouldn't think it would be difficult to get out of the house a full two hours after we all wake up but somehow it is.  (I am fond of saying that I haven't been on time even once since Tommy was born, but it's not actually true.  I am only late when I have my kids with me.)  Anyway, we drove down to meet Melora in Puyallup so we could carpool the rest of the way, and we were all a bit groggy so we listened to my new favorite thing, a kids' CD of James Herriot stories.  Then, I got lost and Melora had to come find me and lead me to the Starbucks where we got coffee, cake pops (!) and loaded everyone into the same car.  Then, we drove another half hour down a road that wasn't especially promising, to be honest, and then!  Then!  We turned into the most scenic and sweet place I have ever been.  Okay, that might be an exaggeration but let's make a deal that you understand that I just love Northwest Trek.

Sadly, I took really bad photos (I only had my phone) but let me tell you a bit about it.  First, there are animals that you look at in their habitats -- and the only downside of Northwest Trek is that the habitats are so nice that you can't always spot the animals.  For example, we did not catch a glimpse of the cougar and that would've been very exciting for Tommy.

Barn owls -- they are so still I thought they were wooden.

Lizzie, Margaret and Tommy on a banana slug.

When we were planning the trip, Melora kept talking about a tram ride and I kept thinking, hmmm, but then we got there and loaded up onto our tram (which is actually a bus driven by a guide).  There are no windows on the bus, and you drive through the part of the park which is just a bunch of land that has a lot of neat animals living on it.  We saw bison (did you know that there are no buffalo in America? Just bison).  One of these fellas can weigh up to 3000 lbs, making it the largest land animal in North America.  See the golden one in the left half of the photo?  That's a baby one.  Sometimes I wonder when I'm going to get over loving the baby version of everything so much, but I really just do.  The baby ones are cutest.

We also saw elk, moose, trumpeter swans (which was timely as we just finished reading the Trumpet of the Swan), mountain goats, sheep, and swallows that followed the bus because the bus stirred up the bugs.  It was SO AMAZING.  I told my parents to go even without any kids; it's that interesting and fun.

This is a grizzly bear and he is in his habitat, not part of the tram ride.

BIG NEWS!

Not to make it all about me, but I AM AN AUNTIE again!  Em and Sid's baby is born, and he is precious!  Behold:

He was huge (one ounce larger than I predicted, though):  8 lbs, 10 oz.
His head is huge and he's nearly 21 inches long.  Em was only in labor for 8 hours and the word on the street is that she ROCKED IT.  My biggest problems are (1) that I can't hold him until December and (2) that I need someone to watch my kids so I can go to Baby Gap because obviously little baby Dylan Kent Mathews deserves a new outfit or ten.

Fourth of July!

Whenever I am lucky enough to be in Seattle for the fourth of July, we have front row seats to an amazing fireworks display at Aunt Jean and Uncle Raymond's house.  (The fireworks are set off from a barge in Lake Union.)  This year was the first in many that I was able to go there -- and I got to take the kids with me.  I will admit that they are exhausted (still!) and that it was tough to have them up until 11, but really, it was so fun and the kids are still talking about it! 

A huge bonus to the evening:  Aunt Jan made cheese dip (a Kent family standard) that hit the spot! Tommy tried it for the first time and loved it.  Rather than teach him about double dipping, Aunt Jan just gave him his own bowl :)

Lulu & her Gwampa

So my dad and my daughter have a somewhat special relationship.  He does whatever she wants and she loves him in return.  You can't exactly call that unconditional love because in fact it is very conditional.

For example, yesterday morning she woke up very cranky because she was by herself and had to walk upstairs rather than be carried.  (I know.)  So, I wished her good morning when she arrived in the kitchen and scooped her up and she had a full-on fit and ran off to pout.  I happily ignored her but her grandpa went and got her and then poured her a nice big glass of juice and told her how nice she is for a few minutes.

Another day he went out to get her from the front yard, where she was breaking the rules because the kids are only allowed in the front yard with an adult, and came back in reporting that she wouldn't come with him, and had told him that she was the boss.

Seriously, Dad? I said.  She weighs 26 pounds, so she's easy to hold even when she's having a fit and arching her back.  You just pick her up.

I know, he said, but I want her to like me.

It reminds me of Grandma Sid's visit to London last year during which I asked, "really, she had no fits for you today?" and Grandma Sid said, "oh, no.  I never told her 'no'."

Painting her Gwampa's toenails (with washable nail polish).