12 Best Memories of 2012

Let face it; on the self-indulgence meter, blogging ranks pretty high.  As much as we try to give something to our audience, at the end of the day it's all me, me, me.  In many ways, that’s what makes blogging intriguing in the first place-that voyeuristic quality that allows you to look into someone’s intimate life and thoughts.  But, there still has to be a balance.

As we close the book on 2012 and crease open the crisp pages of 2013, I am taking this moment to forget about balance and write something that is unashamedly just for me.  Here, for all posterity (or until my blog crashes), are the little nuggets of beauty that made 2012 worth remembering.  I know that these memories won’t matter much to anyone else, but I still want to tuck them away in my treasure chest of happy memories while they are still fresh and clear.

Howling Tornado Marathon at Great Wolf Lodge

One of the side effects of spending a decade growing and birthing babies (other than the obvious issue of needing to cross your legs with you sneeze), is that the pregnancy and infant care process forces the mom to not participate as actively as before.   When you are great with child and caring for little ones, you just have to be content to watch from the sidelines as the other members of the family do the fun stuff.  And I’ve done my time: three full years of gestating and at least as many years feeding and diapering babies.  I’ve definitely gotten used to waving from the shore as the older boys try something new.  This year at Great Wolf Lodge, I was suddenly unshackled.  No babies to care for.  No giant belly to slow me down.  The kids wanted to ride the Howling Tornado as many times as possible in one weekend and I had no reason not to jump in there with them again and again.   I lost count of how many times we climbed the stairs and went screaming down the watery plunge, but I know that I loved every minute of being fully present and engaged with my kids.

Orlando with Aidan (AKA my Mini-Me)

He’s all boy and silly as can be, but of all the boys, my third son is the most like his momma.  Driven, focused, goal oriented.   While we had a blast hanging out with dolphins and checking out the brand new Lego waterpark, what I’ll remember most is our late night inner tube wrangling fest.  After a long day, he begged me to take him to the lazy river just one more time, and I complied, though almost too exhausted to stand.   Since we were the last ones in the river, the lifeguards offered to pay him a token for each inner tube he retrieved from the river.  The dollar signs flashed in his eyes, and he swung into action.  He barked out orders for me to set a blockade and he flung inner tubes with style and speed.  As he walked away from the lazy river with two fistfuls of coins, I was reminded that he has immense power to get things done pent up in that little boy body.  I also decided that I staying on his good side; he’s going to the be the one with the money someday.

Conquering Fears in Hawaii with Ryan

My deep, sensitive oldest son is a lover of many things, and when he falls in love, he falls hard.   Several years ago, he started a love affair with the creatures of the sea, but he has always had a fear of getting into the water.  Any trips to the beach found him sitting longing on the edge of the surf.  But, something about Hawaii changed all that.  He dove into the water.  He surfed.  He did his first and second helmet dive (an experience that would scare almost anyone.)  He didn’t just conquer his fears; he crushed them.  And I had a front row seat.  There is no way to know how much longer he will look to me to give him a thumbs up and a big smile, but for today, I am still the lucky one.

A Glimpse of the Future in Clearwater with Evan

A weekend alone on the beach with my social second son meant lots and lots of talking and laughing.  But we also had time to meet some dolphins, play on the beach, and take out lives into our own hands by driving around town in a fun coupe.  Our final activity was climbing aboard a Captain Memo’s to sail around with a band of playful pirates.  At the first slight eyeroll, I knew that my boy had outgrown something he would have relished just a year before.  As bittersweet as that inevitable growing up moment was, it could not compare to the pride I felt at watching him handle the situation with grace and maturity.  I can’t wait to see what this kid is going to be like as a grownup.  He is going to rock it!

Utter Amazement Above Niagara Falls with Morgan

There is possibly no one on Earth who appreciates the marvel that is the world around them like a toddler.  Imagine a day where every single thing is new and exciting and blows your mind.  That is what is like for toddler.  When our family took our first ever helicopter ride, and it happened to be over Niagara Falls, we were all nothing less than stoked.  But being older and more mature, we showed proper restraint.   Toddlers have no restraint-thank goodness!  When something amazing happens, they show it with their whole self.  Niagara Falls from above was amazing, but the look on this baby’s face was even more so. 

End of the Moart

The last day of our 80 day MOART was like the end of a Lifetime Movie.  We were camped right on the beach and seen a beautiful sunset the night before.  We had woken early to a nearly empty beach and had played in the cool sand to our delight.  It ended too quickly and the camper was packed, but I just couldn’t drag myself away from the beach. I knew one of the best chapters in my life was coming to a close and I didn’t want to let go.  So, I stood with my toes on the edge of the surf and cried big fat tears-a rarity for me in general, but a recurring theme for that day.  To add to the drama, I wrote MOART 2012 in the sand and watched as the surf crept closer and closer, and finally destroyed the words.  Then, I cried bigger, fat tears on top of the widest smile imaginable, and I felt profoundly grateful that I was blessed with an experience that was so meaningful that leaving it behind caused such sadness.

 

Carrying my (Big) Baby at Disney

My youngest son-my final baby (for real!)-has always been independent past his years.  He just never really had a chance of staying little with three older brothers to keep up with.  The bitter- sweetness of watching him grow so quickly has made it easier to continue with our traveling lifestyle, but it has often left my arms empty before their time.  While we were at DisneyWorld in November, illness or uncertainty caused a momentary lapse of the “do it myself” attitude, and found my baby wanting to be carried.  At over thirty pounds, he is way too heavy to carry and hold for any length of time, so I dusted off the Ergo, and he willingly climbed into it.  For what I am sure will be the very last time, I was able to enjoy the familiar weight of a baby close to my body and the sweet conversations that we enjoyed with our faces inches apart.  But what I will remember most is his not- so- chubby outstretched arms reaching up to me with the angelic request to “up me,” to which I gladly complied.

Climbing Enchanted Rock

The 400 foot climb was torture for me (apparently I am a wimp), but my boys with their young legs and respiratory systems scrambled easily to the top.  As they stood triumphantly at the top of the rock taunting  encouraging their poor old mom, part of me wanted to climb to the top and smack them, but I was so very proud.  They had made it to the top without any hand holding, or cajoling.  I didn’t have to mind their every step and help them through the hard spots.  They made it on their own.  Right then, I realized I was on my way to working myself out of a job-just as it should be. 

The Lamest 'Go Team' Cheer in History

A day at Serpent Mounds was declared by three boys to be the lamest way to spend a day ever. (Don’t listen to them, though, they don’t know what they are talking about.) Before we left, the littlest brother demanded that we all put our hands into a circle and do a “Go Team” cheer.  In his three year old voice, he told is all definitively “On three, we say Lame-O.”    He meant to say “Play Ball,” but it came out “Lame-o” and it just fit the mood of three tortured older boys.  With all of our hands in a circle our family cheer became “Lame-O” We like it.  It suits us.

Nobody’s Dying on this MOART!!

It was a moment that could have ended very badly.  After playing carefully on the sidewalk for 20 minutes, without warning, the baby darted out into the street.  Of course, I instantly saw him run and jumped to rescue him, but Aidan (only seven) was closest.  As i darted out into the street to put my body between my baby and the oncoming traffic, I saw panic spread over Aidan's entire body as he surveyed the situation and saw that a car was coming down the road towards his baby brother.  He reached the baby before I did, and there was a watershed moment when he looked at the baby, the car and then me with a look in his eyes that said "Do something quick!" Then his face changed, and he realized if anyone was in a position to save the day it was him.    With determination in his eyes, he hooked one arm under the baby's arms, and despite the fact that there is only about 20 pounds difference between them, he lifted him to safety.  As he lifted him, he loudly declared to God and the universe and everyone nearby "Nobody is dying on this MOART."  It was his way of saying, "Nothing bad is going to happen to my little brother on my watch!  No way!"  

Birthday on the Beach

We only celebrated one birthday while on the road, but that celebration came with much consternation.  When I told Aidan that he would get to celebrate his birthday while we were in Boston, he darted his eyes at me and inquired “Do they even have birthdays in Boston.”  Hoping to prove that there are even birthdays in Boston, I did some research into typical birthday locales, but in the end I decided to go out on a limb and try something that we had never done before.  We hit the beach in Salisbury and spent a sunny, sandy Sunday celebrating Aidan’s 7^th birthday.  He was in heaven playing on the beach and running to and from the surf with buckets full of water.  His brothers built birthday packages and cakes in the sand for him, and I snuck away with each of them for a private walk down the beach just to talk one on one.   At the end of the day, not only was there a birthday in Boston, but it was one of the best birthdays in family history.