Dream Vacation in the Dells

Been savin' now for over a year

Let's pack the kids - get outta here

We'll leave behind our troubles for a week

We'll borrow the pop-up from Phyllis and Steve

Tell the boss, "I gotta leave"

It'll be the best week of our lives as I can tell

We'll take our dream vacation in the Dells.

- Gear Daddies c.1990

The kids and I just got back from our dream vacation in the Dells.  We had more adventures than I have space to report on in this blog, so I'll just give you a small sampling.  We battled waves in the wave pool and played pirates in the Lazy River and had massive amounts of water dumped on us in the kiddie pool at the Wilderness Hotel & Golf Resort.  

We went to Aunt Mary's store, Aunt Jenny's Got It All, and stocked up on Dells paraphernalia.

By the way, Gan was wearing nothing but the hat when he came out of the bathroom.

We got fancy and bellied up to the bar at Uncle Jesse and Aunt Cia's place, The Showboat Saloon, with Gus and Francie, Nanee and Papa Bill, and Aunt Teri and Uncle Tom.

Who in these pictures looks to have had a wee bit too much of the barley pop?

Gannon picked up a hot chick.

We checked out the cool rides cruising the Dells strip.

We learned to smoke....well, candy cigarettes anyway.  I didn't even know you could still sell those things.  I miss Wisconsin and it's lawlessness and liquor sales on Sundays.  Ahhhh.  Nostalgia.

We solved the mystery of why Rojo was STILL sticky even though it'd been hours since we went to the candy shop AND we'd cleaned him up multiple times.

We went on an adventure in the Lost Canyon.

But, absolutely, supremely best of all, we met Baby Shirlie, the newest addition to the DeFosse family, born July 27, 2010, weighing in at 7 lbs, 10.5 oz, which is actually quite small for a DeFosse.  She appears to have a mighty personality though, so I'm not worried at all about her small stature.  It also helps that she's gorgeous.

Congratulations to the DeFosse family.  We love you and are so excited for you.  Gus and Jesse will grow up to be good men, being raised by all those women.  

Counting the minutes until our next dream vacation in the Dells,

Momma T and the Mighty Murphys

Motorin'

You know that Night Ranger song, "Sister Christian"?  Well, tonite, I kept hearing the "MOTORING" line over and over in my head because....

Rojo has news......

HE WALKS!!!!

He took three to four steps about a dozen times between Ryan and me.  We cheered, and I teared up.  My other two didn't walk until around 14 or 15 months, so I'm a little unprepared.  This is my BABY we're talkin' about.  Babies DON'T walk.

Daddy decided that Rojo needed a little post-workout refresher so he got some ice cream.

He's pretty proud of himself and a little tired.  There's a lot of bod to hold up on those two legs.

In sadness and in joy,

Momma T.

Ode to 7

My baby girl turned seven last month.  Seven.  It's half-way to 14 and a third of the way to 21.  My 35-year-old self says that seven is not very old, but the mom in me knows better.  Seven is very, very grown up.  

In the month since Maguire turned seven, I've noticed a subtle shift.  She has a newly-acquired patience for her brothers, which is a feat that many never achieve.  Roj cries, and before I can get there, Maguire has soothed him.  Gannon asks to play with her stuff, and she says yes.  Someone pushes or hits or scratches, and she does not retaliate (at least, not as much as she used to).  She tells me that she'll keep an eye on Gannon and snuggle him if he's lonely for Ryan and me when they stay with Grandma and Grandpa for two nights.  She notices when one of her friends is struggling or sad, and she offers her help and support.

Seven is wise and mature and kind.

She's not so much a kid, as a little girl.  She's gotten tall, and she got her ears pierced.  She wants to wear bracelets and dangly earrings, like Nanee.

She pays for her snack at the pool by herself, no need for me to wait in line with her.  She wants to go to the tennis courts behind our house without a grown up.  She wants to cross the street alone.

I know this is the way time works.  I know that she's supposed to do this, and I'm so very proud of her.  But sometimes, more often than I care to admit, I wish for the tiny baby we brought home from the hospital seven years and 34 days ago.  

Love, 

Momma T.

I've been busy, I swear.

I've been busy in the nearly three months since my last post, I swear.  Here's my to-do list:

1.  Watch husband snuggle with baby.  Watch it some more.  Watch it a little longer.  Notice fat on arms and think how cute it is.

CHECK

2.    Throw birthday party for now seven-year-old daughter.  Rent giant princess jumper.  Watch it rain all day on birthday.  Watch 20 seven-year-olds stare out window at giant jumper.  Open back door and let them jump in rain.  Hope not to be shunned by other mothers when school starts in the fall.

CHECK.

3.   Put house up for sale on Monday after the rained-out birthday party, making sure it is the worst housing market for sellers ever.  Make sure to put it on market only after you have put family and self through two months of remodeling hell.  

CHECK

4.   Go on vacation with in-laws and take funny pictures of kids.  Make sure to pick a weekend when it rains.

                                               

CHECK.

5.   Let super-pregnant sister throw birthday party for her son and my two sons.  Allow her to plan everything and host at her house.  Volunteer to drive my family to her house for the party.  Volunteer my mother to chop copious amounts of vegetables and onions for cook-out.  Take pictures of cake-eating.  Let sister's mother-in-law, the one and only Grandma D, hold one-year-old eating chocolate cake while wearing white pants.

                                   

CHECK

6.  Attend t-ball game for four-year-old son.  Attend coach-pitch game for seven-year-old daughter.  Repeat multiple times throughout the summer.  Acquire bleacher butt.  Prepare for fame and fortune when they both hit the big time.  

                   

CHECK

7.  Con husband into buying mini-van so I can mitigate against the possibility of other mothers shunning me when school resumes in the fall.  Choose black mini-van.  Get kids aviator glasses and FBI jackets.  

CHECK

My to-do list is now done.  I can resume blogging.  

Love,

Momma T.