Beach Week

The UniBartonHauer's spent a week snacking and sitting around in Florida. Bradenton to be precise, though tiny trips to Tampa, St. Pete, and Anna Maria act as the industrious highlights of the vacation. On a family trip where we are all staying the same house, my favorite thing is always the same: watching everyone experience the trip differently given the assorted obstacles and scenarios presented. Our time in Florida was a textbook example of each family member's preferences mushed up against accommodating our newest additions; and by those I mean Nick and Liv.

For Ellen, a trip is a time to participate in something luxurious and then lay down. For Lee, relaxation is the ticket. He just needs a fishing rod and some music. Mom wants to trinket shop. Brett chooses to seek out newness, whether its a new dish to taste or a physical feat to overcome. I prefer a mixture of Lee's serenity pool and Brett's experience seeking, and Dad is most inclined to go with the flow until he gets bored. Once bored, he's quite pleased to do some reading. 

So here we all are, in one house for a full week, each seeking something slightly different. Historically, we maneuver a easy vacation dance with one or two people claiming intentions for the day and the rest latching on to whichever (or neither) seems most aligned with moods, priorities, and hungriness factors. So Mom's desire to "hit the shops" on Anna Maria Island lined up nicely with my desire to see the beautiful scenery there and Ellen's fondness for expensive locations. So us girls spent a morning there popping in and out of the overpriced stores inside of the charming, colorful buildings. 

But on this trip, for the first time since both were mobile, Nick and Liv joined in on the fun. And it was fun. They were chatty and excitable. Each morning they would wake up early and commence the chattering for the day. Despite having an ample-sized living room just off the kitchen, the morning routine was for the eight of us to crowd around a small coffee table in a tiny space between the kitchen and the back door. The kids would bring their briefcases of Hot Wheels into the little space and insist on using two of the six chairs for display purposes. So we'd be leaning on walls, rotating who sat down, and otherwise just standing there because it never really occurred to us to inconvenience the children instead. I found the morning cluster ritual very funny until about the fourth day when I woke up and realized I didn't want to go squeeze into that space anymore. Additionally, the chairs were on swivels, so Liv would make me seasick every morning, swirling her chair which would bump mine and send me rotating slightly this way or that. Or she would sit in my lap to chatter about things but she doesn't sit still, so every flailing limb or enthusiastic gesture would twirl the chair just enough for a person's equilibrium to doubt their stability. The trouble is that she is so precious and this moment in time so fleeting that you don't want her to not sit in your lap and talk about her dream to be a mermaid, so you sit, feeling a little pukey, and remind yourself that this is the good stuff.
But then day four hit and I chose not to sit down. 

Nick is still but a little tike so sensitivities are quite high. He is understandably not interested in doing things like getting water or looking for Dad by himself, so escort services were required from anyone within earshot. His main driver each day though, is to do as Livvy does. Does Liv want to swim? Then Nick wants to swim. Does Liv not want to taste watermelon? Then Nick does not want to taste watermelon. Did Liv pull her arm out of her sleeve? Nick will pull his arm out of his sleeve too. My favorite part about this is that Nick is in a stage (4 years long stage) of not wanting to wear pants. So he winds up performing fairly effeminate movements in a speedo, making him frequently look like a tiny gay man with a potbelly.

Brett and I enjoyed our time in our own little bubble. He did have to work a few hours each day, so I would entertain or hide from the children, chat with mom, or do some light reading. When he was free, we'd go into Tampa for lunch, or search out authentic Floridian ice cream, or find a place that makes coffee the way he likes it. We did have grey weather with dumping rain for most of the trip, but the last two or three days we had enough sun for splashing around in the pool with the kids. We are proud to have earned top regards from the kids. ("Uncle Bretty is so tall." "Aunt Lue is silly.")

Mom and Dad did more childcare than we did but also managed to go for a date night or two, read books and magazines, and help orchestrate the Shanghai tournaments. They took the lot of us bowling on one of those rainy days which was met with great success. Liv especially enjoyed it and Lee bowled strike after strike. Nick was entertained at first but quickly lost interest so Ellen took him over to the arcade - a choice that proved to be a fatal mistake. Meanwhile Dad mistook Brett's real shoes for his bowling shoes and then howled with delight by his mistake. I had selected a particularly greasy bowling ball which made my hands sweat right from the get-go and I never recovered. The place was a little sticky and we all sat with our hands in upward turned claws when it wasn't our turn. Then we received complimentary cookies which promptly caused half of us to disregard our germ concerns and dig right in. When it was time to go, Ellen and Nick came back from the arcade with a little capsule toy from a vending machine. It was a little rubber bear in a plastic bubble with a pink lid, Liv's favorite color. Livvy's eyes glittered with interest, so they gave her fifty cents to go get her own. Well, she got the same little rubber bear but the lid to the plastic bubble was red.

When I tell you all hell broke loose...

Liv is the most cheerful, positive, sweet little person. She rarely cries. So we were shocked that this child had to be carried out of the bowling alley, and the uncontrollable sobbing over the red lid lasted the entire drive home and up the stairs into the house where it turned into a hiccupy cry, and thirty minutes after that, a perpetual pouty lip. This was the point during the trip when I noticed that Ellen and Lee were not having the calm, relaxing trip that the rest of us were. Come to think of it, Lee was spending most nights in the quiet room downstairs. You know, Ellen hasn't suggested anything that would give her time away from the kids... hmm. Are they quietly enduring the utter chaos of tending to children outside of their typical routines?

Turns out, kinda. Yeah. Ellen and Lee are such conscientious parents that they were exerting extra and unnecessary energy making sure that the kids weren't bothering the rest of us. When we realized this, we were quick to tell them to stop that. They aren't bothering us. We like spending time with them. Leave them with us and you two go do something!
They conceded to one measly dinner out together but otherwise stood solidly, taking the lashings that overstimulated children in new environments manage to wield with an intensity reserved for parents alone. They were happy little squirts, but also uprooted from the familiar routines that keep them confidently engaged in things besides Mom and Dad. They did not have their toys and beds and assorted crap - so they felt adrift in a big busy house with extra family members. They hit a tiredness wall somewhere near the end and became easily reduced to tears or whimpering. Ellen and Lee were at wits end, counting down the days to heading home again. 

We all took turns cooking dinner and the leftovers amassed with all the necessary kid-food (fruit, yogurt, applesauce, cheese, etc, etc) to create a fridge jam packed full of things that none of us wanted to eat or throw out. On the last night, we had a fridge-clean-out dinner, which resulted in finding coleslaw and baked beans from the night we arrived a week ago, that had been pushed to the deep recesses of the fridge. Dad placed these items on the dinner table as though it wouldn't be a threat to health and safety. When we balked at the idea, he maintained that it was fine and we shouldn't throw it away. Mom discreetly removed the items from the table when Dad left to heat up the nub of a baguette from who knows when. 

Brett watched as more and more creepy, old eats made their way to the table; smashed berries the kids had coughed on, one roasted bell pepper from four nights ago, the pale pink ends of watermelon half submerged in their juices, the dregs of a bag of tortilla chips, two broccoli florets. While there was a collective amused distain for the selection, we ate it, because we don't throw food away. Brett, who comes from a family that will chuck half a perfectly good ham just because they've had their fill, gazed at the display and then lifted his eyes to look at me and said simply, "I see where you get it."

I found this as validating as I did amusing because I catch him throwing out perfectly good food at least twice each week and I chastise him every time. "This is perfectly fine. Why would you throw it out?"
"I don't want to eat anymore of it."
"What's that go to do with it? You paid for it."
"So?"
"So you have to eat it."

Trip highlights include:
-Watching both squirts become increasingly proficient swimmers. (Nick can hold his breath for ages. It's awful to watch. He wanted me to drag him to the bottom of the pool so he could sit just down there. "Absolutely not, Nikki!")

-Watching Brett experience the Union family listening to The Sound Of Music soundtrack. (He was not impressed.)

-The whole family went to an enormous crap-focused, broken down flea market where I saw a dozen roosters packed into a tiny cage together and it completely ruined my morning. Everyone thought it was sad, mind you, but I took it the hardest. Dad wholeheartedly supported my thought to buy them all and bring them to a sanctuary. Brett said nothing but stood tensely next to us while I worked out supply and demand for roosters in western Florida. Later, when I admitted that buying them would only boost the industry, Dad became enlivened by my next suggestion of him causing a scene while I set them free.

-Listening to Lee talk in his Brooklyn chain-smokers accent.

-A particularly gruesome Nick meltdown while waiting to eat at a restaurant. This resulted in Lee wordlessly grabbing both children, getting into the car and going home. (Not funny to him or Ellen at the time but a retrospectively hilarious dad-move.) (Ellen and Lee anticipated the meltdown approximately two minutes before it began, while both kids were still happy, giving them enough time to take the kids outside, do some quick strategizing and already have Livvy walking towards the car before Nick broke loose. I was thoroughly impressed.)

-Nick getting excited about fishing with his dad.

I liked the cozy rainstorms and the messy kitchen and the exciting trees that grow down there. As always, I enjoyed the cheap shots from Dad, the one-liners from Brett, and getting even tiny moments to chat with Ellen. On our drive home, Brett foolishly asked Mom about her family history and she talked for so long that it had Dad in stitches. "Oh, and I'll tell you this..." She went on and on and on. Even when we pointed out that she'd been talking for hours, she still had things to say. 

Here's a sweet photo of Ellen riding back to the house with us on the night that Lee evacuated the kids from the restaurant in the nick of time. 

And then Dad let out a hearty belch.

We're all glad to be home. 

Especially Ellen and Lee.

A Mountain Visit

We trekked up to Asheville with Ellie and Caroline for a long weekend getaway - an escape from our oppressive temperatures. We booked an exciting house on a mountaintop, changed the oil in our car, and then dumped the pups off with Mom and Dad. This was fortuitous timing (that's sarcasm) as Pippa has been on a somewhat inconvenient medicine schedule for a stomach ulcer. It's a lot of pills at strategic times, but the real doozie is this one pill you have to crush up, stir into a slurry, slurp up into a syringe and then squeeze into Pippa's mouth, twice a day. 
Thanks Mom and Dad, see you Monday!

Pipps is doing great, thanks for asking. 

We got in Friday afternoon and then snacked and chatted until we left again. The fun part of traveling with friends is getting that twenty-four hour access to how they move through a day. I've known Ellie since we were five, so few of her choices strike me as funny, except for the fact that most of her choices are funny. She's the most steadily sanguine person I know. Her mood rarely changes from cheerful optimism. When she's mad or scared or anything different, it has about a ten percent opacity. You'll only know because she told you - it won't be discernible in her voice or behavior. Caroline, like me, is much more inclined to feel many different emotions in a day. Caroline, unlike me, will tell you about them. I appreciate this about her because she and I are usually on the same page about things but she'll say something about it and subsequently, she seems like the problem child instead of me. 

Our rental house had a scary, North Carolina driveway. It was all right angles and steep inclines on a gravel path. The car would slip and tremble as you made your way up and up and up, and being that we are all from a very flat place, the driveway seemed dicey. That is to say, I did not like this driveway but with an unfazed Brett behind the wheel, I could sit quietly and endure the tension. Caroline also did not like the driveway but she lived in fear of coming or going from the house each day. She would look for ways around using the driveway ("let's order in!"), walk herself down the hill, or sit in the car discussing her worries as we rolled back down the mountain. Ellie sat in whatever seat of whatever car we took that day and carried on enjoying the mere concept of being alive. 

So watching this particular group of people for a weekend was a joy. Brett and Ellie hit it off the very moment I introduced them to each other ten years ago, and it's continued to be such a joy to see them pull the fun out of each other. Caroline and I often sit together and watch them play, like proud moms hosting a successful playdate. As the more vigilant (anxious) members of our group, we let them wreak havoc in the controlled environment we create for them. "Come on you two, it's time for lunch. Ellie, have you had any water today?" While they play, Caroline and I talk about "important" things ranging in subject from politics to human health to unique experiences. She is a good listener and a direct but fair responder. She will not sugar coat things but won't present anything to you that she doesn't think you can handle. Also, she's real easy to make laugh.

Up to no good.

So that's one way we pair off. 

The other one is equally fun for me to observe. Caroline and Brett are similar in many ways. They are highly disciplined, prioritize doing what's best for their future-selves, and have high ethical standards. They both wake up early for sunrises, require good coffee, and set off exercising before Ellie and I are even close to waking up. So while they're busy implementing ways for us to all better ourselves, Ellie and I will be deeply invested in trying to shock the other, be it with behavior or wit. Usually the two of us are laughing so hard that we're crying, which is great fun to us, but seems to embarrass Brett and Caroline when we're out in public. 

What I really like about this friendship is our willingness to snap at each other. It sounds counterintuitive but I think many friendships ignore or endure bits that make people uncomfortable, because we don't want make waves. There are people I love spending time with but wouldn't ask them to change things I don't like. Here, we can all tell each other "Hey, you're being childish right now," and we'll still go home giggling arm in arm. 

Early birds discussing world peace. 

So some highlights. Let's see.
There was a huge Indian dinner.

A hike that nearly killed me on account of the common outcome of an Indian Dinner.

Lots of coffee shop visits.

Poker night.

And a general wandering around in a town that wound up being only about 3 degrees cooler than our home temperatures. We also managed to consistently patronize establishments without air conditioning so we were all about as sweaty as people can be. 

Other highlights I will note purely for my own memory of this trip (it would be far too much to explain);  a rockstar named Billy Balls, the breakfast casserole, pet gerbils, "yes, but she's well fed.", the angry trucker, the art student, Caroline's unexpected spit-take, the overweight nudists, and the hairy man at the coffee shop that we all found strangely attractive. 

We laughed so hard I felt sick. I think that sums up the weekend.

Scenes from Japan

The Big One is wrapping up a two week stay, bouncing from Tokyo to Osaka to Kyoto. He and Erik have curated a unique adventure by having loose ideas of things they'd like to do, surrounded by the whims of the day. They have had continuous grey weather. Quite cold (lots of snow) and quite rainy. Fortunately they are both bright-eyed, optimistic types so it hasn't stopped them from making the most of it. 

The fun bit is that I can see Brett's location through his phone. So at any point during my evening, I can look at a map of town and see that they have visited such and such museum, or are dining at this establishment. One time I checked it and they were at a barber shop. They seem to explore a town with no logistical strategy. In a six hour span, they've hit parts of town in all cardinal directions. There's no, "let's go to this part of town today, and go to the west side tomorrow." It's seems more likely that they are looking for attractions while eating lunch. "There's a sumo experience an hour away!" So onto the train they go, and I receive photos like this:

I receive email updates on their trip around noon my time. This is when they have come back to their hotel for the day and are winding it down. Brett's captain's log will be abundant but vague. "We were cold so we went to a hot spring - I've got a story to tell you about that. Then we found a great hole in the wall sushi joint!" Sometimes I write back an adrenaline filled report about my quiet life here with the pets, but other times I just wait to see when I'll hear from him - like the olden days of carrier pigeons. "I doth wonder on the whereabouts of my beloved." Then I'll churn butter a hope not to die an old maid.

They did go get their hair cut...together. They've visited temples, shrines, and museums. They have hiked in the mountains, taken some tours, taken a cooking class, gone to a baseball game, but mostly, they are eating things. Lots and lots of eating. I mostly get pictures of food. "You won't believe this miso soup! It's the best I've ever tasted. Nothing like what we get at home."

Pre and Post haircuts. I'll allow that Erik needed it.

My life here without him has been very quiet and extremely repetitive. Living alone really makes you realize how many of the exact same actions you take everyday. Here I am eating again. Let's check the mail again. Oh look, more dishes. 

This is all the same even when he's here, but I guess it's the talking out loud to someone that makes it so fun. 

I can't wait to see him!

Honbons: And Other Soothing Balms

The pinch of time I got to spend with my Hon fam right there at the end of September might not qualify for an official "Honbons and Other..." style title, as those are reserved for lengthy, if not also highly attended HonUnions. Brett and I only stayed two days and three dinners with them, but my folks stayed a whole week, AND the Hons drop nuggets so abundantly, I feel I can make at least a dense snack out of them. 

So, we gathered on Topsail Island...

 

There was the ebbing of a storm, perhaps a tropical one, but I can't remember. Our sunny drive gave way to storm clouds and a drizzle as we pulled into town, but once we unloaded the cars, the feeding frenzy began. The following is a list of edible highlights: peanut butter filled pretzels, cookies and brownies, boiled peanuts, manicotti, chips and crackers, focaccia bread, peanut m&ms, and an assortment of carbonated beverages. There was also Frosted Heroin, but no one broke into them the first morning or even the second. Brett had been dilly-dallying around, waiting for a bun, and finally asked for one not long before he had to pack up his suitcase to go home. 

We met the newest member of the Honbon family, played some Shang, and sat to stare at each other in various venues. There were morning chats with coffee on the porch and evening chats with coffee at the dinner table. Brett attempted to surf the stormy waves while I watched anxiously from the porch. Evan helped me keep an eye on him until the tide pulled him out of sight. "I don't see him anymore..." She shrugged and then performed her school's morning announcements, complete with daily lunch menu. 

Evan was notably less interested in me than last time - a combination of not being roommates, her being older and cooler now, and the apparently off-putting news of my marriage to Brett. She is energetic, enthusiastic, highly expressive, and an interminable conversation. I think she might have inherited it from Papa Don. He's also always talking, but his musings are so low in tone you often accidentally write them off as the hum of a large appliance.

Equally enthusiastic, Ellen arrived with Liv on Sunday, and she had a surprising amount of vigor to her. We were all excited for Evan and Liv to meet - the next generation of HonUnion, oh boy, what big flip-flops to fill. Naturally, Ev was all-in even prior to their arrival. Liv took approximately ten minutes to warm up and then they were off with their matching mermaids and plastic egg creatures, and I think maybe some purses. They had craft time, drew on windows, and impressed all of us with their inventive moves the dance mat. They were thrilled about sharing a room with bunk beds, each planning to sleep on the top of their respective set. They were less thrilled when told they had to sleep on the bottom bunk (there was a good bit of whimpering) but then the whole thing imploded. After about a half hour of trying to sleep, Livvy came upstairs and whispered, "Evan won't stop talking." Liv slept in Ellen's room the next two nights. 

The quietest person in attendance was new baby Heath. Only the Unions think he's quiet because we were all sleeping upstairs and all the Hons were sleeping downstairs. I don't think I actually heard the little guy cry the whole time I was there, but the morning report was usually that of Heath's desire to stay up and party. During the day, he just sat in his little bouncy chair grinning at people, or was being passed from person to person like a basket of rolls at the dinner table. Baby Heath is really cute and smiley and squishy. I wish I had more to say about him but he's still working on holding up his own head, so we can give him some time. 

As is the case when given the opportunity, I followed Will and Katie around and asked them questions about life. What are you eating these days? What about books? Where are you shopping? What do you think life is really about? We discussed all manner of important topics from celebrities to espresso machines. I found out they got hit by an ambulance, and I heard a story about a library encounter that made me especially proud to know Katie. 

Meanwhile the adults played rounds of Shanghai to music that never changed. Will put on an album that cycled through itself at least eight times but no one noticed because they were deep in giggly conversation. He attempted the same stunt the next day, but his plans were thwarted after only three cycles when someone requested some french cooking music.

Brett and I took The Papas for a rainy morning out while we ran errands. We dropped them off at a coffee shop while we went to the grocery store. "We'll come back and get you when we're done," we told them as we waited for them to climb out of the backseat. Don said this must be what it's like to be Millennials, spending a day doing nothing in a coffee shop. I told him he'd have to have soy milk with his coffee and he gave me a classic Papa Don expression that I can pull to mind in an instant, and it elicits a giddy squeak from me every time.

Despite the soggy grey scenery, my memories are a sunny yellow. We took tiny beach walks to get energy out of the three pups, and Brett was again enchanted by Wando's ability to do what you tell him. Brett got a quick recap tutorial on Wando's proficiencies and then the two of them played professional fetch with dueling enthusiasm.

I sat with Lollie on the porch where she worried about me, patched me up, gave me precious advice, and was an advocate for those with high cortisol when the family heckled me for my tiny dinner portions. 

"I wish I had that problem," Ellen stated. "Cortisol makes me fat!"

"Me too," a few others agreed in unison. 

Ellen, Liv, Brett, and I headed home just as the sun came out and beach week could properly start. We had an eventful ride back complete with washed out roadways, lengthy detours, a quest for a car charger, a really gross lunch, and Livvy barfing up a bunch of red Starbursts in the parking lot of a Chevy dealership. Our four hour drive wound up taking eight hours. We were all scared of how Liv would fare, but she was a chatty champ and finally sacked out for the last hour or so. 

Up in the front seat, Brett I were deep in a discussion about the meaning of a good life as looked at from different perspectives. Why do people live in any particular place? If you removed x, would your purpose shift? Yes but that's not a universal value - in fact, I'd say it's a learned one. Well I'd argue the opposite actually because think about this...

After a half hour Ellen said, "Are y'all seriously still talking about this?"

"What do you mean?"

"How is there this much to say about it?"

"Well what do you and Lee talk about?"

"We talk about farts." 

We tried to pull her into it. "No, I don't know. I don't know about this stuff," she said.

"Sure you do. It's just your outlook on life," we told her, "Consider the scenario and tell us how you see it."

"I can't!" She fought us for a long time, unaware of her own philosophical abilities.

"Fine. Answer this, how has your life changed since having kids..... ok, and if you lived in a society with x instead, how would it be different?"

Well, Ellen caught the fun of considering and pondering and hypothesizing, and she waxed and waned poetic as we pulled into town. Brett and I were stifling our proud grins. 

"This is phase one," Brett teased, "Won't be long until you're radicalized!"

I spent the rest of the week lamenting my early departure on account of Brett's work schedule and my cortisol levels. The rest of the family did get to enjoy some sunny beach days and the bulk of the delicious snacks. Right there at the end I requested a family photo and I had the great fortune of receiving a Live Photo, so hearing people laugh while Health screamed, and Laurie talking as she blocked out Papa Don made it the best family picture I could have received. 

Most photos from the Hons.

Other Summer Bits

If my blogging skills were suffering prior to having a real job, they've sure taken a deeper nosedive. Don't think I haven't noticed. I haven't had time to observe and muse, which leads the blog to offering only the pithy update. Now that the occupational threat has been neutralized (more on that later), the pressure is on to save this sinking ship. So let's get caught up. Where were we in the story... the big Italian adventure, Brett got a surfboard...

Let's start with babies. We've gotten a good crop yield this year. In order of appearance; Cormac, Heath, Margot, and Logan. 

Small photo because these are not my babies to be posting to the interwebs. 

Which reminds me, we had a beautiful baby shower for Ari. Nevermind the new human, I was particularly thrilled to get to play with flowers again. 

Back in August, Brett and I went up to Richmond VA because he needed to do an inspection. Someone hired him to wander around an abandoned high school to determine it "past repair." Brett said the place was so scary that he didn't even go into a few especially dark corners. I've never seen Brett scared of anything ever - so it must have really been a doozie. 

We were staying in the downtown, tall-builidng section of town, which, no matter what city I'm in, does bum me out. You can't see the darn sky! There weren't many people down there, so it felt important but abandoned. There were also few "places" to be besides the offices in the area, but outside of Downtown, you zoom through an up and coming artsy section and then you're in a Mary Poppins kind of residential chunk that we found lively and charming. 

In fact Brett and I found ourselves on Zillow lookng at the houses for sale just because they were so cute.
"Do you actually want to live here?"
"I don't think so."
"Me neither, but I bet life in that house would be pretty good."
"Oh for sure. You just wouldn't have real problems if you lived in that house.

We explored most of the different neighborhoods in Richmond - some industrial chic, others more bohemian. We must have visited 75% of the area's lawn care stores looking for something as atrocious as Wilhelmina Pigglesworth to leave on Will and Katie's front porch, but everything in town was much too tasteful. We had a few great cups of coffee, a big Jewish breakfast, a wander along the train tracks, some fresh baked cookies, and a visit to a beautiful cemetery so big that we got lost in there for a half hour. "Is this how they populate the place!" Brett declared as we spun the car in circles trying to find our way out. 

Back here at home, the UniBartEnhauers chug along with Sunday dinners, unannounced visits to Mom and Dad's house in the afternoons, and days running errands with Mom. Dad maintains that he is bored, however he's always scampering around town doing things for people so we don't really know what he's talking about. Ellen and Lee are drowning in plastic toys and butter noodles, while Brett and I both consider our futures.

Stay tuned for the next episode of What Do I Do With My Life?

Photo Dump (As They Say)

 There are still so many goodies. I'll just put them here.