It was my birthday yesterday. I asked for a sailboat ride in Newport Harbor. Instead, I got an ipad (the extra nice one).

I can't say I'm complaining. (Insert huge smile here.)

Thanks to all who contributed for said gift. I, well, LOVE it. A lot. And thank you to everyone who sent me well wishes via various formats. Extra points go to Grandma and Erin who sent cards. The kind with hand written notes. Or, in other words, the kind that are extra awesome.

It was a good day.

(Oh - and thanks to Elise for breakfast today. I like getting to hang out with you.)

Edited to include Steve, Lori, Casey, Madi, Garth, and Charlotte to those who sent birthday cards. THANK YOU!

Funny Siblings.

I just got this text from a certain 16-year old little sister:

"Oh Jill. Every time I see your frozen breast milk in the freezer I miss you."

This would be the same frozen breast milk upon which a certain brother wrote the following note:

"Do not touch. Ryan's future progeny."

I'm so glad my storing food for my child has sparked so much interest, creativity, and conversation among my siblings.

They're fun. I maybe miss them a little.

So I've been gone for awhile. For a really long time actually. Now that I think of it, this last trip is the longest I've been away from my primary living place since "striking out on my own" when I was 18.

It was awesome.

The only bummer was the bout of mastitis I had while on vacation...the other bummer would be throwing my back out (while getting the car seat out of the car) when we got home. Not sure which is worse - actually the mastitis wins, but the back problem was made worse by the fact that I came home to a NEW BIKE from my sweet husband. A bike I've been wanting for a few years. The bike that I couldn't ride until today due to said back injury. (It was worth the wait, by the way.)

I may or may not play catch up on this blog. I may or may not post photos. I won't, however, feel obligated to do either or feel guilt for not doing either. It would ruin the vacation.

So...some thoughts.

Monday (July 19th) marked the one-year anniversary of Kenny's dad's death. I can't believe it's been a whole year. However, when I think of all that's happened since his death it seems that it's been much longer. Granted, this year has been an eventful one for us. When I think about last year and the time Kenny spent away from home caring for his dad, I'm mostly grateful. Grateful that Kenny was in a position to serve Ken in that capacity during that time, grateful that Kenny would want to serve him (it was really hard for Kenny - physically and emotionally), and grateful to have gained a greater understanding of charity. True charity. Not the pity kind, but the loving, unselfish service kind of charity. Kenny grew so much during that time. I'm only sad that Ken is not here to see his son in person. Or that he's not here to play with Lola. Rather than dwell on those things, I like to imagine Ken getting Lola all ready to come into this world. When I see her do things that remind me of him, I just smile. And I'm grateful for that, too.

Speaking of The Girl, Lola turns 3 months old tomorrow. Wow. Congratulate me. I've kept a totally helpless creature alive for three months. No plant I've ever owned has ever fared that well. Although, no plant ever gave me auditory clues that it was hungry. If it had screamed or cired I probably would have watered it. So I guess it's really the plants' fault. How's motherhood? Still what I expected. Awesome in an "ups & downs" sort of way. The biggest surprise is that I've yet to get sick of HER - even for a moment. I've gotten sick of certain aspects of mothering (can one really ever love cleaning up poop? and, oh yeah, remember the mastitis?!), but never HER. Everything she does fascinates me. Like right now. I'm watching her alternate between trying to stick her whole fist in her mouth (and almost succeed - until she gags herself), smiling at the ceiling fan like it's her best friend (which it sort of is), and try to nurse the couch cushion. And I'm totally entertained and almost even giddy about it all. Disgusting, right? Yeah, I know. The weird thing is that I don't care. In fact, I'd rather watch her do that than write anything else, so ... well, I won't. I guess I'm done.

Over and out.