Summer Joy

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Tour de Atlanta

Back in May, we gave our oldest son, Chase, an Atlanta birthday package that included visiting the Aquarium, a Braves game and Six Flags. John’s call schedule, a seemingly endless little league baseball season, and the overall busyness of summer delayed this much-anticipated trip until this past weekend. Aunt JJ generously allowed us to use her condo in Virginia Highlands, old stomping grounds that laid the background for our dating years and early marriage.

This is the first time we have spent extensive amount of time in that area and the recollections poured all over us as we pointed out to our children the various places that contributed to our memories as a young couple. Here we were fifteen years later walking the same streets with three wide-eyed, curious children, wondering how in the world we travelled so quickly from those carefree days to the days of present where time may not be necessarily our own but the enrichment experienced so much more worthy than the time.

We substituted Fernbank Museum for the hot, black pavement of Six Flags, knowing that we will return with the children in the Fall when it is cooler and we are less likely to run into tube tops and ill-placed tattoos. However, we are hoping that air brushed t-shirts advertising “true love 4 ever” will remain a presence because of the joy it brings and the boredom it erases when we wait in long rollercoaster lines for the primary purpose of having our guts slung to the bottom of our throats.

The replaced activity, while educational, proved to be a wise and discerning choice particularly because the air condition was set mercifully on HIGH, providing shelter from the sweltering heat outside. My children are enthralled with science as a whole, much more than I was at that age or ever will be, but I was able to feign real “Bill Nye the Science Guy” interest especially since sweat would not be involved. Everyone walked away winners.










IMAX followed our museum tour. The documentary showcased the travel of South African sardines, which sounds like a big YAWN but really was quite fascinating. All of our eyes were glued to the gigantic screen as we watched dolphins, sharks, whales and other predators gobble up the all you can eat sardine buffet that somehow was portrayed in a non-violent, non threatening manner. It must have been the cheery, upbeat music in the background.

Later that evening, we met Mimi and Dude at the Braves game. (Not grandfather or papa or granddad, but DUDE. The first grandchild deemed him Dude 13 years ago even though he doesn’t ride a horse on a cowboy ranch or hang ten on California beaches. He’s just a DUDE.)



Although the Braves lost the game, my family thought the whole night was the BEST. The carnival-like atmosphere, the stadium wave and the tomahawk chop enlisted the enthusiastic participation and attention of the children throughout the game.







The next morning finished our tour de Hotlanta with a visit to the Georgia Aquarium. Sardines continued to be the theme of the weekend as we found ourselves packed into this attraction in the same manner those little fish are stuffed into tin cans. It was very crowded but we managed to see all the exhibits without being trampled or crushed by giant humans leaning over little children to snap photos of tropical fish with their cell phone cameras. I can’t imagine that the clarity was all that great but who am I to question the potential Ansel Adams that may emerge from behind a cell phone. Mercy.








A great time was had by all. And now we are very tired.

All's Well That Ends Well

While our beach trip was joyful indeed, the recollection and photographs must, alas, come to a final close.

(I just used the words indeed and alas in the same sentence. So sorry. Somehow I momentarily channelled a sixteenth century chambermaid, and am fighting a strong desire to use the word "thou art" as well. Now would probably be a good time to click on the mean little red box in the corner.)

Since pictures speak louder than words, not to mention that the particular vernacular available to me this morning is less than Shakespearan stellar, I will spare you from my ramblings ere you ne'er come back.

(To blog, or not to blog: that is the question.)

Our final beach photos:

Dinnertime Dancing Joy




Sparkle Joy



Pure Cuteness Joy









And because I can't leave well enough alone.....

"Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow."(Romeo and Juliet)

The Beach - Part 2 of 67

So we made it to the beach.

John clogged on the floorboard pedals all the way to the gulf which ended up being worth any self-imposed (this is John's word choice) anxiety I may have experienced during the very long drive. But, boy, were his calves completely worn out.....

We rented a large home with two other families we have known for years. A total of six adults and seven children under one roof made for good times and great noise. At times the activity resembled that of Romper Room which was tolerated well because the children were totally delighted and the adults totally medicated.

(Of course, I am teasing. Only a few of us resorted to sedatives to manage our busy, noise-filled days.)

Most days we were on the beach until dusk, only venturing back to the house when it was time to eat. For seven days, planning supper was not a concern as Chas, a great cook and even better friend, prepared fresh seafood for all of us that would rival any restaurant. Fried shrimp, shrimp scampi, shrimp po' boys (Forrest Gump anyone?), crab legs, fried oysters, raw oysters,grouper and blue crab made its way to our table every night making our stomachs deliriously happy and our gastrointestinal tracts working overtime.

Below are a few of our pictures of vacation joy. (Parts 3 through 67 in the days ahead)

The concentration on these determined little faces entertained us (and them) for hours. Digging holes captivated their attention for such a long time that we are currently installing a sand pit in our front yard. It's all about independent play, people :


Chase found China.

Still digging. Chandler practicing Kung-Fu moves to impress discovered Chinamen.

Nine hours later and the digging is almost complete.


Mr. Jon, otherwise known as the Bird Whisperer, working his magic. He is wearing the hat for good reason.


Mr. Chas, our resident chef and jolly fisherman.

Fishing like a Rock Star.


Anna Caroline and Kate cooling off


"Raise your hand if you think Mommy is the BEST!"


Handsome Lambdin (aka Popeye)


Lauren the Little Mermaid


The Noodle Rodeo with me and Mary Mac.


"Has anyone seen the children lately?"


To be continued....

It's Getting Hot In Here

It's hot.

And we have a pool that should offer us some cool refreshment, much like the old school commercial where joyful folks take the Hi-C plunge and are instantly invigorated by the coolness.

Instead, the temperature is much like the tepid water that flows down the drain of your bathtub or the "warm patch" you unfortunately happen upon when swimming in a public arena.

But here's the thing. We swim in it anyway. And on top of the warm temperatures, our water is - how to say this delicately?- GREEN.

We returned from Atlanta and found that the chlorine filter was not operating properly - which John was able to fix because he is McGyverish like that - but it still takes a few days to get the water back into sparkly condition.

Again, we swim in it anyway. What's a little green substance coming out of your children's ears when it is a kajillion degrees outside, especially when you have access to large quantities of q-tips to clear up any algae residue discovered?

This photo depicts John's frustration over his green pool and an uncanny likeness to the Heatmiser.



What did I tell you?



The children were so hot that they could only float motionless to stay cool:



See, I'm not exaggerating about the green. Compare my son's swim trunks to the color of the water and you will find that they are the same SHADE.



But we swim in it anyway.

'Cause it's hot.

The Ultimate Time Out

Every once in a while, as well meaning moms and dads, discipline strategies escape us. One method used for consequences proves surprisingly effective and then, just as surprising, that same method a few days later no longer works. Just when you think you know what you are doing as a parent, you realize, really, that you DON'T.

Parenting is an ever-evolving process that requires much patience and a little bit of skill, and, most importantly, a willingness to beg God for mercy.

At one time or another in the last nine years we have implemented consequences in various forms:
1.Taking away a favorite toy or stuffed animal that brings joy
2.Time outs chairs
3. Unplugging "stuff" - TV's, video games, etc.
4.Hugging and kissing on the lips between siblings during disputes(an admitted personal favorite)
5.No dessert - an absolute heartbreaker for Chandler

For the most part, we have been somewhat successful and have managed through the grace of God to raise well-mannered and respectful little children. But as they grow older, we realize that our methods of discipline must transition as well.

Before my little ones ride off into the horizon on souped-up Harleys with tattoos up to their armpits,I thought it was time to maybe consider new correction methodology that suitably corresponds with their ages. I have been giving this considerable thought lately when I stumbled upon a genius discipline approach through a rainy day activity this past week.

The Ultimate Time Out:



Velcro jumpsuits secured safely to a velcro-lined wall ensures ample time for the child to ponder their injudiciousness and contemplate the manner in which they will improve their behavior. A kitchen timer, with compatible velcro stripping, is placed beside the offender, alerting the parents and child when the time-out has come to a conclusion.

Absolutely foolproof until at least the age of 18.

For those of you who question the appropriateness of my idea, and maybe even think that the neurons in my brain don't fire like they used to, it is important for you to know that I am contacting James Dobson for approval.

Stick around and I'll let you know what he says.

(I am well aware that the humor is bad and totally understand if you choose not to come back. I wish I could change, but see, I'm stuck in my ways.)

Jumpin' For Joy

The rainy day activity mentioned in the post above occurred in a local business overflowing with inflatables and high energy children. Below are the photos of Chase, Chandler and Mary Mac jumpin' for joy:

The path to playground paradise:


Simultaneous Siblings Sliding ( I bet you can't say it fast):


A Toothy Smile:


Real Life version of Rock 'em, Sock 'em Robots


Chase has fallen and he can't get up:


Cutest slider EVER:



The original inspiration for Lionel Richie's song "Stuck On You"