Happy Birthday, beautiful Ava! You’re EIGHT today! I can hardly believe it! I can still vividly remember the day you were born. Don’t tell your sisters, but it was, by far, my favorite Birth-Day. You made it so easy. You gave me time to get pretty, you didn’t make my belly contract painfully, you let me get to the hospital in time for an epidural, and I didn’t feel a stitch of pain the whole day. Bless you!

The first two hours of your birthday have been rough. You’re feeling a little gypped. We don’t get to go to your favorite place (the pool) today, and you aren’t too thrilled about going to your class at church on your birthday. I’m so, so sorry you inherited your Mama’s Moody, sweetheart, but those are the breaks.

Thankfully, you got a lot of my good traits too. And a lot of your daddy’s. And quite a few of your very own.

You are something else, girlfriend. And I mean that in the most awesome way.

You’ve got spunk, you’ve got spirit, and you make friends like nobody’s business. Your teachers have told me from day one that “everybody wants to be friends with Ava.”

You know what you like (except when you don’t–your chronic indecisiveness is from your mother). You’re going to look smashing in your new Brazil soccer jersey you got from your Grandma and Grandpa Yoder (I love that you studied Brazil all year in school and know so much about it–even some Portuguese!). You’re going to look amazing in the U.S. soccer jersey you’ll get this afternoon from your Grandma and Papaw Taviano.

Speaking of soccer, I LOVE watching you play. You’re a natural (thanks, Daddy!), and you make it look effortless. I’m looking forward to the fall when you and Livi are on the same team.

Speaking of Livi, you’re such a good middle sister. Such a good buddy to Livi AND to Nina. I love watching you interact with each of them, and while you three have your moments, for the most part you are great, great friends.

I love that you’ve learned to swim and have overcome your fear of the diving board and are excited about swimming lessons starting tomorrow.

I love that you wanted art supplies for your birthday and that you love to draw and create and play school with your sisters and friends.

I love watching you with little kids. You are going to make one heck of a mama or aunt (or both) some day. You are such a lover and nurturer, and little ones light up when they’re around you.

I love your heart for hurting people. I love your love for animals (and your persistent begging for a dog–maybe in 15 years). I love your love for life.

I love that getting-ever-blonder hair, those getting-ever-kinkier curls, those gorgeous popping-up-all-over freckles and your beautiful smile.

I love listening to you laugh. I love listening to you tell stories. I love your contagious enthusiasm and zest for life.

We love you so much, Ava Marie. We are so stinkin’ blessed to have you in our family!

I hope (and pray) that your birthday gets a thousand times better than it is right now!

Love,

Mommy

So today’s our First Official Day of Summer Vacation. The girls both had great years and amazing teachers. We love you, Mrs. H and Mrs. M! Speaking of Mrs. M, the girls and I are spending a couple hours this morning helping her clean out her classroom.

When I told Gabe, he said, “Ava’s not going to be happy that she has to go back to school on the first day of break.” He obviously does not understand the joys of purging and organizing and helping your teacher when school is already out. Ava is thrilled! And so are her sisters.

Then, if the rain holds off, we’re heading to the pool and buying our first pool pass. I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve been to a public pool in their lifetimes. And I decided this would be The Year of the Pool.

Honestly? I’m not a big fan. I’d rather sit on the back porch (or in bed! or on the beach!) and read all summer long. But those little crazies love water, and since I don’t have any babies anymore, I’m thinking it will work.

This is also going to be The Summer of Intentional and Purposeful Mommy-Daughter Quality Time. I’m a girl of many ideas and ambitions, and this summer I intend to raise one of my ambitions high, high above the rest. To have fun with my girls.

Yes, there’s Cambodia (woohoo!!) and yes, I’ll do some writing, but I’m reeeeeeeally feeling an uncomfortable crunch right now. By the time summer chills into fall and fall freezes into winter, my oldest will be in the Double Digits Club, and my youngest will turn five. FIVE.

These are the glory days, and I want them to drag by in slow motion. (Although I have a feeling they won’t cooperate.)

So, things might ebb and flow here at the blog. I’ll try posting every day for awhile, but I may cut back to Monday, Wednesday, Friday or something like that. We’ll see.

Thanks for making my blog a place I love to be. And for loving my family so sweetly.

Happy, Happy Summer, friends!!

So, I was sitting at the kitchen table one morning last week, sweaty from running, apparently quite happy about something or other, and I broke into song. A made-up song. Complete with rhythmic, exuberant clapping.

Everything was going great until Nina walked into the kitchen, marched up to me, and said, “Mommy!”

I stopped singing mid-note, held my clap-happy hands apart and raised my eyebrows as if to say, “Yes?”

She pointed to the journal I’d been writing in before I lost myself in the “music” and said two little words with big attitude.

“Just write.”

Well. I never. Hmph.

There’s something so romantic about short little bursts of having to make do or go without.

At about 7:45 on Wednesday evening, the dark sky got darker, the wind started blowing like mad, and the rain started to fall. Then the lights started to flicker. And flicker some more. And some more.

And then poof. Gone.

It wasn’t completely dark outside yet, so I had light enough to walk downstairs, head to the kitchen cupboard where I keep the matches and start lighting all the cinnamon, cinnamon-apple, sweet cinnamon pumpkin, and cinnamon gingerbread allspice hallelujah candles I have scattered all over the house.

84 candles and not a single flashlight.

“Is there going to be a tornado?” the girls wanted to know. Nina especially was quite worried.

“Should we go to the basement?! We should go to the basement!”

I assured them that we’d be fine, that there was no tornado, just some wind. Then our deck chairs started flying across the deck.

Um, let’s meander on down to the Underground, said Ma.

We took candles and matches down to the basement and cuddled on the couch. The girls were scared. Oh, the unknown! But never fear! Captain Apple was here! Gabe pulled out his trusty, rusty, fully-charged iPhone and checked the weather. 70mph winds, lots of rain, possible hail.

“But no tornadoes,” he said.

“See? No tornadoes,” I said.

A millisecond later, a loud siren.

“The tornado siren!” they yelled.

Mmmm, yes. That would be correct.

So, we prayed and snuggled and talked about how blessed we were to have a basement. “Remember our friends in Texas?” I reminded them. “THEY DON’T HAVE BASEMENTS!!”

Gasps all around.

But this storm probably didn’t reach all the way to Texas, I reassured them. (Or did it?)

Daddy sat in his old, broken recliner that got relegated to the basement, and read us funny tweets. Then Livi and Nina joined him in the recliner, and Ava and I laid down on the couch (love seat). We all chatted about soccer and our summer plans and reminisced about Hurricane Ike that took down our favorite tree back in 2008.

“This is really nice, spending time together like this,” Gabe said.

Warm fuzzies.

Then it was over just like that. Gabe loves storms and hated being so far away from the action. The girls were none too happy when Photo-Happy Daddy left the safety of the Underworld to go up not one, but two, flights of stairs, OPENED OUR BEDROOM WINDOW, and then LEANED OUT OF IT WITH HIS METAL CAMERA. (or is it plastic?)

Finally, the siren stopped, the rain slowed, and the wind died down, and we crawled out of hiding. We lit more candles and the girls found books to read. More warm fuzzies.

I sat at the kitchen table with a candle, my pen, and a manuscript that needs much work. I felt like Louisa May Alcott.

Then they asked me to read to them, and I picked this book, the first one I saw, which ironically is a story about the man who invented electricity. (He did, right?) I held the iPhone (with the handy-dandy flashlight app) in one hand and the book in the other, and we read about life in another era.

Eventually, Nina fell asleep on me, we put the girls in bed, lit a candle so they weren’t scared of the pitch dark, blew the candle out when they fell asleep minutes later, and got ready for bed ourselves. Gabe used the iPhone flashlight to help me make sure I got my contacts in their case okay. Too bad he didn’t think to shine the phone on the bathroom mirror where I had a nice purple sticky note reminding me to take my last typhoid pill.

At about 10:45, while my family snored away and I was playing iPhone Scrabble, everything kicked back on with a bang–lights, printer, air conditioner. I got up, turned everything off, shut the windows, and got in bed.

And felt a little sad that the romance hadn’t lasted just a bit longer.

A big storm blew through our area last night, and our electricity went out for a few hours, so no blog post. But we had a delightful candle-lit time as a family. Very Charles and Caroline Ingalls-ish. Okay, so not really, since we had Gabe’s fully-charged iPhone to help get us through.

See you tomorrow!