The Hardy Boys Go To The Beach

A couple weeks ago, we got to go to one of the most beautiful beaches on the island with - get this - WONDERMAN.  It's true, things are a bit less insane once fourth semester is over.  We love that aspect of things.  LOVE it.

So, the beach is called Batibou Bay.  We quickly found ourselves looking forward to what sounded like the title of a Hardy Boys novel - The Mystery of the Baby at Batibou Bay.  It has a ring to it, eh?

Anyway, I'd heard it was amazing, but somehow never gotten to this particular beach.  Our friend, M, simply could not fathom how long we've been here without going.  It's hard to explain the logistics of working and then being pregnant and simple inertia culminating in me not going to all the lovely places there are to see here.  I am so grateful I got to come back and that Bean got to see it, too.

It is pretty stellar, as beaches go.

And surprisingly un-hot.  Maybe the copious shade is an indicator, but I was still surprised.

It really is the perfect beach.  Sun, shade, sand, enough waves to be fun, not so much that it's ever (well, while we were there, I'm sure it has its moments) scary.  We could've spent hours and hours more there than we did. 

Bean got some sweet Daddy Time:

And got sand in every crevice, not the least of which were fat rolls (delicious!):

She tried to eat a sandy leaf.  Wonderman tried to stop her:

And then I let her do whatever she wanted (I've tried to explain to Wonderman my philosophies on the importance of children being allowed to explore, and even eat dirt, but he's not buying it.  Still, I'm the one around and in charge most of the time, so eat dirt she will, if she pleases, and she certainly did please.):

She also got to eat some bananas.  We're still working on technique.

She took a nap on the beach.

We found a leaf the size of Bean.  Well, bigger than Bean, really.  BTB, if you want the official term.

All in all, it was a great family outing.

Conclusion:  Solving mysteries is rad.  All the cool kids are doing it.  The Hardy Boys are totally coming back.

Family Portraits

So, we had a friend of ours take some family portraits a couple months ago, but I didn't want to post them until our moms got their Mother's Day package of pictures.  And then I forgot.  Oops. 

But . . . Here they are!  We are so grateful to Paige and her wondercamera! 

 

 

 

Wonderman and I pretty much look exactly the same as two months ago, but it's crazy to look at these photos and recognize just how much Bean has changed.  Wow.  Too bad Paige is gone.  Michelle?

Conclusion:  This family is forever, yo (and thank goodness)!

ps - we sure made a beautiful baby, no? 

Blessed

Did I tell you that Bean got a name and a blessing (ok, so she had the name for a while before this, but it became official on the records of the church) on January 2, 2011?  It was a sweet day.  I got choked up as I heard Wonderman start to speak, then he got choked up as he blessed her.  We are quite a pair.  Then Bean took over for both of us and cried heartily throughout.  Of course she stopped as soon as it was over.  We think the bouncing was, in fact, too vigorous with so many hands working together, trying to keep her happy.  Alas and nevertheless.  It was a good day.

Adventures of arrival

So, I just barely took my camera out of my backpack, which means that zero pictures have been taken of our trip or settling into home.  However, I just thought I'd toss in a couple cents. 

We got to Dominica just fine.  Bean was screaming every time we boarded the plane (three different flights), but once we got settled and she got to nurse she was quiet and asleep for essentially all the flying time.  Hooray!  That is one big worry down.  She seems to like it here.  She likes the warmth and the breezes.  She is taking some time to get used to her new crib.  Still, I think all in all the transition is going remarkably well, even if there are times when I wonder if I'm going to survive because she is screaming for no apparent reason.  I think those times are decreasing.  I hope. 

I am fully enjoying being back on the island.  I'm glad we came in January so I could enjoy some of the "cool" weather before it gets all crazy again.  The first day we were here, we walked to campus and to a store and I realized that the "walks" I went on in Utah were ridiculously easy and didn't count as exercise at all.  Sigh.  And I've found that carrying a baby makes it hard to carry anything else.  We'll see if at the end of 8 months I regret my decision to wear Bean instead of pushing her around in a stroller.  However it goes, it is good to be home and delightful to be a family that's together more than just for a nightly Skype session.

Wonderman is back to the grindstone and doing well.  It amazes me how much he puts into this.  I've come to the conclusion that not only do I never want to go to med school, especially since it would be mostly just to prove I could do it, not because I want to be a doctor, but a regular job is much easier than med school or motherhood.  That may seem obvious to you, but it is still a bit of a revelation for me.  I already have found myself thinking about how easy my life used to be when I just had to go to work.  Ah.  If only I had appreciated it then.  :) 

And that's it.  The adventure continues.  I'll try to take some pictures and post them later.  Maybe soon-ish.  Maybe not.

Until then.

Privacy, revisited

So, you may remember long ago when I first addressed the issue of privacy.  The same issues still stand.  That is why I continue to refer to the infant as Bean, instead of some more reasonable name.  I must also confess, although this is more of a blaming than a confession, that it is part of why  I took such a long hiatus from posting on this blog.  I was doing so well, catching up on cataloging our adventures, when I reached the visit of my parental units, namely my mom and her husband, my step-dad.  I always just call him by his first name, but with the issues of privacy set up as they are, that just couldn't be done.  I don't really like the term "step-dad."  It always sounds kind of cold and I have come to really love him.  Plus, it takes a long time to write, as does "my mom's husband."  While I pondered what to do, I lost steam and just never bothered coming back, until now.  And now I live with my mom and this man who is as yet un-named.  That is, until Wonderman comes and rescues me and takes me back to Dominica.  Not that I'm miserable, I just really miss him.  A lot.  Anyway, just so you know the code, I've decided to call him by a different Christian name.  I'm good at making names up, pulling them out of thin air.  So we'll call him Bill any time he is referenced here.  As in, "I am currently staying with my mom and Bill."  See, it works.  That's all.  Just wanted to reiterate the privacy issue and then explain myself.  The end.

Forever? I want it NOW

So, our little family has not been together for a while.  Wonderman was here when Bean was born, but then had to leave us to return to school.  He flew out just three days after Bean arrived.  This is our first family portrait:

(Yes.  I took a tiny newborn to the airport, a cesspool of germs and disease.  It was our last chance to spend any time, quality or not, with her daddy, whom we both adore.  Don't judge me.  She is fine.)

This is what she looks like now:

She has grown and changed so much already.  Her daddy has been gone for TOO LONG.  I can't wait for him to see her, and vice versa.  Skype, while a miracle sent from heaven, can only do so much.  However, he will be home in one week and I am so excited I am having a hard time breathing.  I try not to think too much about it, since constant breathlessness could make that week seem really long, but still.  It's tough.  Eeeeeee (this sound is accompanied by my biggest smile - which you know shows every tooth I've ever dreamed of having - and some general bouncing/dancing)!

Behind

I've never been a stellar blogger, that's now a given, but much has changed since that last post.  I'm not nearly so hot, nor so roundy.  A lot took place in between now and then.  Not only am I surrounded by snow and ice (I've been in Utah since September), but . . . . .

 

I went and had myself a baby.  Bean is here, and she's a delight.  I'd promise that there will be more frequent posts in the future, but you and I both know that I hate to lie.  We'll play it by ear, eh?

Inheritance

This is a combination of silly looks (please disregard the hair; it can't be helped). 

The camera at my chest is genius I got from my father.  As I was hiking and trying to decide if it was worth the risk to keep my camera in my hand because there was so much amazing stuff to picture, but I was sliding around in the mud and crossing rivers with super slidey rocks, I started telling Wonderman about my dad.  Dad has a camera case connected to his climbing harness so that he can take pictures with one hand without letting go of the rope.  I told Wonderman that was what I needed.  Then I realized I could create a make-shift version.  It will hopefully be less silly when I get my itsy-bitsy camera that will make for easier access.  Still, I have to give props to Pops.  It made the whole thing so much smoother and safer.

Conclusion:  Learning from someone else's experience can be invaluable.  Thanks, Dad.

'Tis the Season

Let's get this straight before we even begin: I am not a Scrooge. I love Christmas like you can't believe. I spent years counting down the days until Christmas, starting on December 26 (Ok, so part of that was probably because it became a cool trademark, like a party trick: my friends would always ask me how many days until Christmas and, no matter what day of the year it was, I KNEW. Still, it started because of the love.). It has always been a magical time of which I adored being a part (Did you catch the awkward and non-colloquial sentence construction? That's what I get for proof-reading my posts and for knowing that ending a sentence with a preposition is wrong. Ugh, so annoying. Ignorance really is bliss.).

However, the past couple of years have been a teensy bit less . . . magical. There are a number of factors that contribute, the most significant one being heat. Neither Arizona nor Dominica lends itself much to the fabled ideal of the white Christmas that I am accustomed to. Maybe it's also partially because they are Christmases with only Wonderman, whom I adore, but I am more used to parental units and siblings and shared understanding of tradition. It may also be connected to the lack of space in our living arrangements (ok, and this year it's also the lack of availability), which has lead to the significant absence of a Christmas tree in our home. Or maybe it's the gifts that we are not buying, for each other or anyone else (again with the money and available gift supply being minimal [not that there are none, just that they are few - do you think Wonderman realizes the significance of the huge hint I gave him yesterday as I showed him a hand bag that I would REALLY like to have and told him it would be a good present? If not, I sure hope it will still be there in a week]).

All explanations aside, I must say - I know Christmas is coming and I am excited, but it also sort of feels like just another day. Meh. I definitely wasn't feeling the furor of the holiday spirit. Until last night.

I work with a few other women in our church teaching an English class to mostly Haitian immigrants. It's been a good experience and I've learned stuff and usually only grumble a little bit when I have to leave Wonderman at home alone while I go off galavanting about and teaching English. Last night we had a Christmas party with pizza and cookies, definitely festive fare. Everyone was sitting around, munching quietly, and I felt a distinct lack of celebration. Then we decided to sing some Christmas carols. We got out the hymn books and all sang in English "Joy to the World" and "Silent Night." I tell you what, I have never heard "Silent Night" sung quite so boisterously in perhaps all my life, but the Christmas spirit that it brought swelled up around me so that I couldn't help but get a little vehclemt. I loved it. Now it feels like Christmas, despite all the setbacks.

Conclusion: All those heartwarming stories about people from different nations and cultures finding commonground at Christmas time, specifically while singing "Silent Night," must be true.

The difference between boys and girls

Just like my trip of the past month, this summer we visited many families of nieces and nephews. The nieces just play differently than the nephews, but they all adore Uncle Wonderman.


I may be prejudiced, but I can see why they think he's great. Can't you?

In absentia

Well, on my trip from Dominica back to the states, I left my camera on the bed. So, my picture collection from the trip is scant, to say the least. However, I do have all kinds of pictures from family visits this summer that I never posted. Since I missed Wonderman like crazy, I'd like to share a series of photos I quite like. It's from a game called "Beat up Uncle Wonderman."



Let's be honest, it was a fun game to watch, but it sure made me glad that I'm not built like a jungle gym. The nieces and nephews sure seemed to enjoy it, though. Nothing quite like that happened on this trip when I was there by myself. Poor things. I enjoyed the family time anyway, though.