I'm behind and its just getting worse

The week has been full.  

We've started to pack and finalize house plans.  This in itself could be considered a full time job…but here are some of the things we've squeaked in in between.

I took Carter and Saylor to Steadman's farm.  Colby was crushed because broken arms and  massive water slides do not mix.  Its so sad!

Little girls and candy cannons do mix though.

Grady learned the art of the selfie.

Carter's beta fish had a viking burial.  The flames were real as was the sadness.

RIP Mr. Chimichangas.

We had the last day of school!  (That was more than a week ago but I never said anything about it.)  Carter had two more days of school than everyone else.  Colby got a few days off because of his broken arm and Andrew didn't have to take attendance finals.

Johnson cousins came to town!  Hurray!!  These two long boarded to the mall and picked up matching outfits.  

…uh..no comment???

Steve plasti-dipped his car.

It's now a deep silver.  It matches his pimp rims now.

Once again…no comment.

Colby got an official cast.

..And was immediately back in the saddle.

I think I need bubble wrap.

We have a nest of baby robins in our tree.  The kids love sneaking looks while the mama bird is away.

Andrew and Carter had a swim meet yesterday here in Twin.

Heat winners got little ducks.

Andrew had two races where he did not have recorded times so he was in a heat with 6-8 year olds.

He won the duck two times.

Own the duck Andrew…own the duck.

(It was pretty cute to watch him cheer for the little dudes when they finally made it to the end of the pool.  He is a good sport.)

Next meet he will be swimming with the big boys.  Exciting yes, as fun to watch…maybe not.

Carter won a duck too.

His race was a little more fair though.

Carter on the blocks.

Andrew…same lane.

Carter had a low right at the end of the meet when we were cleaning up.

He was 62.

He thoroughly enjoyed his giant swig of ice cold Mountain Dew!

my brain is melting

We got an offer on our house last week that we accepted.  I can't express my excitement.

And with that excitement comes the harsh realization that getting what you want comes with work.  My brain is now melting with knowing I need to be out of my house in 30 days.   Today I threw away 6 garbage bags of mostly paper and junk.  It has begun.  I'm looking at my house with new eyes today, the "how can I get rid of half of this crap" eyes.  My garbage doesn't get picked up again until Friday.  I may have to pace myself.

Exciting day yesterday.

Yesterday I got a call from the school that Colby had broken his arm on the playground.

It's crazy how one can go into "Mom" mode and be perfectly calm, yet have veins full of adrenaline at the same time.   I called my mom, she graciously earned her Super Grandma patch YET again and came to get my youngest two kids.  We switched cars and I rushed to the school…to find Colby with a broken arm much worse than I  had expected.  This is his third break on the same arm and they have gotten progressively worse looking with each break.  Yikes.

With the help of the Mrs. Beams our school secretary, we drove Colby to the hospital where he was whisked into a trauma room and hooked to IV pain killers in a matter of minutes.  I could cry over how wonderful we were treated during the entire ER visit. I'm so grateful for fantastic doctors and nurses who are compassionate, efficient and kind.

The arm.

The picture is pretty gruesome as little kid broken arms go…at least for our family.   My brother stated it looked like Colby grew a third elbow.  

Colby was rightfully upset and in a lot of pain when we got him to the ER.  He later said he didn't cry because it hurt, but because he was scared about how it looked.  He was afraid he would have to have surgery.

After he was all drugged up, they came in and took xrays.

As you can see in the picture, I insisted they cut off his shirt instead of trying to take it off over his arm. I cringe thinking about how traumatic it would have been.  Shirts are cheap. 

He wasn't in pain right here, but drugged and traumatized.

I had called Steve on my way to the school and let him know Colby was hurt.  He luckily had a break in his patients and showed up at the ER soon after Colby and I did.

Yep.  Broken.

Waiting patiently to have the arm put back in place.

Getting prepped.

Thank goodness they used conscious sedation for this!

All done!  

We were out of the ER in less than 2 1/2 hours which I thought was pretty amazing.

Colby is sporting a sweet splint that he will keep until next Tuesday when they will graciously put on his hopefully waterproof cast.  This summer might not be totally spoiled!  

Colby had been working on earning an IPod for a while, and the first thing Steve said when he saw his arm was "That boy deserves that IPod."  Steve's a softy. 

Colby is under instructions to take it easy until his real cast is put on.  That's a tough sell.  It's been a little over 24 hours and he's already totally bored.  

I thought I'd look up pictures from the first two broken arm.

This was number 1 at age five.  The bones were just bowed.  Happened when Andrew knocked (threw) him off the couch.

Number 2.  Fell off an exercise ball at Grandma's house not long after the first cast came off.  Both bones were snapped.

Number 3 break was the most traumatic looking.  

I REALLy hope I never see number 4.

Our Last Day in Maui

Monday was our last full day on Maui as our flight didn't leave until 10:30 that night.  Our hotel was really awesome and allowed us to have late checkout…until whenever we wanted.  It was fantastic as we didn't have to worry about keeping our luggage in the car or getting sandy on the beach without having a place to clean up before we got on the flight.  We had an entire day with no worries.

We started our day out right by walking down the beach to the restaurant at the resort next to us. 

I can't say enough times how much I love Hawaii.  Everywhere I went they knew what gluten free was and could accommodate me.  The pancakes in the above picture were gluten free and delicious.  

Steve's meal was not gluten free however.  Lucky Duck.

After breakfast we ventured out to the Nakalele blowhole.

When I was here in January, the blowhole hardly gave off a whiff, but with the high surf this thing was pretty amazing to watch.  The picture doesn't do it justice.  

The cliffs we were on were beautiful.

I found them haunting.  Cliffs can be haunting right?

Sitting up high with my favorite anti-wrinkle hat.

After our sightseeing, we spent most of the rest of the day at the beach by our hotel.   The surf wars really high and almost scary to watch.  One person hurt his leg and another had to be rescued from the waves.  We heard there were eight rescues the day before and the little snorkel shop wouldn't rent equipment that day.  Every time Steve went into the ocean I cringed.  I know he is a good swimmer, but honestly, the waves were massive.  

I went out just once, underestimated the ocean and got rolled.  I had sand in places I didn't know existed.  Me and sand don't mix well.  I don't like sandy creases thank you.  

Us listening to tunes on in our "we're old people" hats.

I'm anti-cancer and wore 60 plus spf the entire time and my hat most of the time.  I am the only person in the world who probably came home from Hawaii less tan than she came. 

For our last meal in Hawaii before we packed up and drove to the airport, we stopped in at Star Noodle.

It was amazing in January, and it was amazing in May.

Yep…we were happy.

We left the restaurant,  went back to our hotel, watched the sunset one last time,  packed up, drove the hour to the airport, returned the Itching Camero and caught the red-eye flight to Seattle.

And just like that we were home.

Sunday

Sunday morning we woke up bright and early.  Around 5:45 actually.  I was still on Idaho time and sleeping in wasn't working.  It was totally frustrating.  We got up, got ready and were ready to drive the 20 minutes to church with ample time…about an hour of time to spare to be truthful.  About 10 minutes into our drive I started looking up quick-cares.  I hadn't been feeling fantastic since we got on the plane and by Sunday morning I knew if I didn't get help I would be in trouble.  We showed up at the quick care 10 minutes before they opened.  $300 later I was out the door with antibiotics.  We have fantastic insurance, just not in Hawaii.   

Church was great.

My antibiotics were great.

Life went on.

Even though I didn't feel wonderful, we continued with our plans to hike the Waihee Ridge Trail.

The views were spectacular and the trail extremely muddy.  It wasn't crowded, but the trail had a constant stream of hikers coming up and down.  I started counting how many people looked as if they had fallen and the number wasn't comforting. 

We chose our steps carefully and made sure we took pictures for the kids so they would know how adventurous we were.

It was ridiculously beautiful.

We didn't hike as long as we would have if I hadn't been feeling crappy.

But we came down safe and mud free…at least from the ankle up.

We drove back into civilization and treated ourselves to some Hawaiian shaved ice.

Please excuse the lame picture with the bud light in the background. It was the only place we could sit.

Our drive back to our hotel was over an hour because of holiday traffic.  The road winds along the coast on the south western side of Maui.  It's a beautiful drive and traffic was stop and go for miles because of people looking at the surfers.  I sadly slept most of the drive.  I couldn't sleep in to save my life, but every time I got in the car I was fast asleep.  My 80 year old woman came out in Hawaii.  Must be a sign I need to retire there. 

We grabbed dinner at Maui Taco and at a BBQ place close to our hotel.  We ate on the balcony of our room and then went down watch the sunset around 7.

The waves were huge and loud and the entire scene was breathtaking. 

I think I could get used to this place.

Confession- it got dark and I went to bed at 8pm.  Seriously…I'm old.

The Spray Tan Story

My husband has really fair skin.  You wouldn't know it because ironically he tans beautifully.  He's the ultimate oxymoron of when it comes to all things epidermis.  His face and arms become perfect Thanksgiving turkey brown in the sun, but his legs (that hardly ever see the light of day) are Snow White creamy.   They are so snow-cap white that my kids think its hysterical to roll around on the floor giggling if he ever wears shorts.  They are ungrateful little snips those kids.   I however, understand the farmer-tan reality of adulthood and am too plagued with two-toned skin.  I don't laugh at Steve in shorts.  (I lightly snicker when he's not looking.)

Not soon after Steve booked our trip, (which is not being called a vacation per Steve…it was just a really long date.)  he came home with a gleam in his eye…which usually leads to trouble.  "I think we should both get spray tans before we leave.  That way I can wear shorts and not look ridiculous  I've called the place and got all the details.  It's going to be great.  (pause pause pause)  You go first."  Real nice.

Trying to be the supportive wife I always am, I reluctantly agreed.  Lets face it, since birth I've been uncomfortable with anything new or that I haven't tried before.  An unfamiliar brand of peanut butter makes me nervous so a first time spray tan was down right frightening.  I sweat through at least one shirt just counting down the hours until I was supposed to be at the spa in town that provides the spray tan.

Around 5:30 pm I walked into the salon (side note:  WHY do salons hire 20 something girls with no body fat, perfect skin and sparkling personalities???  It's makes us common folks feel ugly.  I want to go to a spa where every employee is middle aged, wrinkled and has a healthy layer of padding around the middle and backside…kankels and a wad of split ends wouldn't be bad either.) and the perfect barbie practically teenage girl asked if she could help me.  I told her I would like a spray tan.  She looked me up and down and told me I could use "Medium."  Ok…whatever Barbie girl…just don't make me orange ok??

She takes me into a small room on the other side of the salon and then quickly tells me instructions on how the spray machine works.  I don't really listen because I'm mesmerized by her flawless, and I mean flawless, porcelain complexion.  I ask her a random question about tanning…and she admits she's never had a spray tan.  This did NOT make me feel any better.

So there I was left in a room all by myself with a space aged shower contraption thing warming up getting ready to make me beach beautiful.  I stripped down to my birthday suit and then had to cover my hands, wrists, knees, elbows in a thick lotion that supposedly kept those parts of my body from turning orange (this is a foreshadowing moment if you didn't catch it).  Right there in the room was a very large very full length mirror.  I don't own a full length mirror and I'm wondering now if I ever will.   I won't go into why, but use your imagination.

The next few fascinating points about the spray tan experience would best be served in list form. 

 (who needs catchy transitions right?)

The enclosed spray shower itself was heated up for "my" comfort.  It had to be 100 degrees in that thing when I stepped in and shut the door.  The whole time I was in there I was sweating, which in turn made me nervous because sweat mixed with spray tans equal streaking which of course made me sweat more.   I was also afraid I would pass out from the heat.  So…there I would be naked, on the floor, covered in an orange sweat-streaked tan.  Awesome…and flattering…and not embarrassing at all.

 I had strict instructions to keep my eyes closed, but at the same time keep my feet in certain positions and change them when prompted to.   Uh….how was I supposed to see where to put them with my eyes closed?   I was positive I would be blind by the time I stepped out of the sweat machine.

A sultry women's recorded voice could be heard babbling in the background every so often.  I'm guessing she was telling me to turn around so I wouldn't be all tan on one side with the other still creamy winter white.  The problem was the crazy fan in that futuristic shower sweat shop.  The fan was so blasted loud, the recorded voice could have have been singing "Head Shoulder's Knees and Toes" and I wouldn't have know it.

The warm sticky spray my poor naked body was bombarded with started at my feet and went up spraying over my head.  Add that feeling to being overheated and I REALLY thought I was going to pass out.  So I stood there bending my knees trying to talk myself out of getting light headed.  (We all know how well that worked for me on a bus in Italy.)  I had visions on being rescued by all those skinny young beautiful girls working in the lobby.  They would have been horrified lifting my 30 something squishy naked sticky body off the floor.

After the tan was over…four quarter turns so I was properly basted…an even louder fan kicked on to properly dry my stickiness.  It lasted way too long for someone to stand there naked and waiting.  Then to make matters worse, I couldn't get the door open to get out when the fan FINALLY turned off.  It brought back the same feelings of horror when I couldn't get the things started in the first place.  Touch-less sensor to start my foot.   Really this spray tan shower is just a shower of anxiety and naked terror.

Even though I used the lotion on my hands and feet liberally, and even though I stood in that spray JUST like I was told to, my hands and feet were a lovely burnt orange color for DAYS.  I felt like sitting on my hands everywhere I went so nobody would see my crayola fingers.

As I was walking out of the spa, I had to check in the "pretties" to make sure it wasn't raining.  If it had been I would have had to hung out with them for a while.  Nobody wants a polkadot tan.

My bath towels have been orange since.  (good thing it washes out with every wash.)

My dad told me to be careful in Hawaii.  Apparently he's heard that sharks like their food caramelized.

After Steve saw my results he decided to still go and get tan himself.  He learned from my mistakes and came home with non-colored hands and feet.

I shaved my legs twice…and my tan was gone!

Steve's legs looked fantastic in shorts and on the beach.

Would I do this again???                     …maybe. But, Steve will be the Guinea pig next time, not me.

Saturday

Two weeks ago Steve called from work and surprised me by telling me he thought we should go to Hawaii over Memorial Day.  I would have been crazy to say no.  Crazy Crazy.

He asked his mom to watch our kids and booked the trip.  We left Friday morning, had lunch in Boise and caught our flight mid afternoon.  After a two hour layover in Seattle and a six hour flight to Maui, we landed around 9:30 pm.  

After rental car pickup, grocery store trip, hour drive to the west side of the island and room check in,  we arrived at our room close to midnight.  We were beat.  

But we woke up bright and early Saturday morning to this view out of our hotel room.

The view from to the left.

View to the right.

Not too shabby!

We ate breakfast and decided to explore where we were.

Sorry Steve..had to include this.

These beautiful flowers littered the grounds at the resort.

We walked around the hotel grounds and the beach line surrounding the Napili Bay on the west side of Maui.  This is a self portrait from the east side of the bay.

Portrait from the west side…with view from where we took our picture on the east.

And yes…Steve brought his GoPro camera on a selfie stick.  It came in handy many times so NO mocking.

After exploring the bay we decided to go for a drive in Steve's rental car pick of choice-his bright red convertible Camero.

(Confession:  I have a hard time just saying Camero.  I always in my head evilly think a swear word in front of the word Camero.  It rhymes with itchin'…and starts with a B.  And I wonder why Colby has been know to swear on the slight occasion.)

The Itchin' Camero.  

(For the record-  extremely fun to have on vacation, wouldn't ever own one.  It's at its best with the top down.  Huge car to have to park.  Next time I told Steve we are renting a convertible Beetle instead.  I think he cried a little inside.)

We drove down to Whalers Village and walked around which led to sitting down to an early lunch.

Best fish lettuce wraps ever.  I made Steve eat at the same restaurant I ate at when I was in Hawaii in January.  This was my favorite meal then and it didn't disappoint the second time either.  I think I could eat this every day and never get sick of it. 

After filling ourselves to the sick point, we got back in the "insert swear word here" Camero and did some more topless driving.  (As you can in the pictures…the car is topless…we are not.)

Steve had this all planned out from the start.  He had the perfect idea to have pictures taken while driving with the GoPro.  This man is a planner I tell you!

We spent some time at the beach Saturday afternoon too.

It was right outside our hotel room.

Steve enjoyed the waves.

I enjoyed sitting in the sun.

Sadly, Saturday afternoon Carter had a bad diabetes day.  Two infusion set failures mixed in with some really high numbers and ketones.  My mom came and took Carter to her house (she more versed in diabetes care) while Steve's mom kept the other four.  I think Carter was sad to leave his siblings, but I know he LOVED the special treatment he got from my parents one on one.  My mom graciously tested Carter's blood sugar hourly until late into the evening and made sure he came down to safe levels.  I wrung my hands and cried in the hotel room feeling completely out of control.  Vacations are fun…but really hard with a diabetic child.  I can leave home, but I never mentally leave home.  My brain is always in diabetes mode if Steve and I are gone together.  Plus, I feel so much anxiety putting the responsibility of diabetes on Steve's or my parents.  It's a lot to put on someones plate.  Steve and I are both so grateful for out parents and their willingness to help out and let us get away together once in a blue moon.  We are very fortunate to have such wonderful parents.

Saturday night we drove to a few hole in the wall restaurants and got take out.  We ate in our room and watched Netflix on the IPad and then watched the sunset around 7pm.  I was in bed by 8pm.  A four hour time difference kicked this girls trash.

Last tidbit for Saturday.

One more reason I LOVE Hawaii.  They sell Diet Coke in these HUGE cans.  It's bliss I tell 'ya.