A Day at the Beach

Along the Columbia River is a vintage little fishing town named Astoria, and in that town is a humble pub that brews their own beer and makes killer burgers.  It's hard to find if you're not looking for it, easy to miss, tucked away along a dead-end side street down near the docks.  We've been taking Aaron to the Wet Dog Cafe for Father's Day for the last six years, since I was round and ready to burst with Andres, a prequel to many future Father's Days.  We've always looked forward to the trip, stopping in for their and bacon cheese burgers and award-winning IPA brews.  The trip is then usually rounded out with a jaunt twenty minutes further down the road to Seaside, where we stroll through the quaint shops, go down to the beach and get our feet wet in the ocean.  On our way out, we stop at the little creamery and have a vanilla cone.  Nothing big and fancy, but the Papa gets his beer, the kids get their ice cream and we all get time together, building on our own little family tradition.  This Father's Day, however, we were flat-out broke, and had to wait a month before we were able to give Papa his much-deserved Wet Dog treat.  But, oh boy, it was well worth the wait.

Aaron and I with Andres at Fort Steven's Beach, Father's Day 2006, just after our first visit to Wet Dog in Astoria.

The goal is always to be in the car by nine, and this morning we didn't make it until a quarter after ten.  The fridge was empty, and the boys were cranking, so as Aaron gassed up the car for the trip at Chevron, I snuck in to get the boys their first-ever gas station breakfast of mini powdered donuts.  At first they didn't know what to think of them, the white powder was sort of messy, and they had never seen donuts so little.  But, upon their first taste, it was love, sheer love, and they nibbled in silence in the back seat as we set off for Astoria, their lips coated creamy white, their eyes sparkling with joy.

I love Raph's expression.  Is this not sheer adoration, here?  Oh, little white donut, how do I love thee?

"These are awesome, Mom!"

We made it to Astoria just in time to hit the cafe with the lunch crowd and Papa got his long-desired beer and burger.  Then, with bellies full, and Raphie fussing because it's nap time and there's no nap in sight, we loaded up to hit the beach.

Before we got the water, though, we thought it would be fun to visit the aquarium first.  Andres loved the aquarium in Newport last summer, smitten as he was with the shark tunnel, and although the aquarium in Seaside is tiny, it still had some fun features like the fully-intact Gray whale skeleton, sea lions you can feed, the gorgeous vermillion colored Giant Pacific Octopus, and dime-sized hermit crabs that scuttle across the palm of your hand.

But the coolest part was that amazing octopus.  They're one of the most clever creatures in the sea, and we caught this lovely lady dancing along the bottom of her tank.  She put on quite a show for us, her long arms moving like ribbons in the water.

TO THE BEACH!

This is my entire world right here: my guys.

Once we reached the sand, Andres dropped to make castles and moats.  Had lavish cities, and elaborate characters instantly.  He found seagull feathers, crab legs, pieces of seashells, and brittle seaweed all playing parts in his drama.

The perpetual problem with Raph and water is that he's like a baby turtle, or some marine-speeding porpoise.  He smells salt water, spins his head around to the sound of roaring waves, and without any qualms or misgivings, he rushes into the water with squeals of delights and the biggest smile on his face, and to my horror submerges completely under.

He's like me in that way.  I have always loved water and especially the ocean, and swimming was never, ever an issue for me.  I don't know how old I was (8?10? 23?) when I finally realized (with much dismay) that my legs didn't actually conjoin into a fishtail in salt water like the mermaid on Splash.  Raph is that way.  He wants flippers and gills!  By the time Aaron or I rescue him, he bursts to the surface gasping for air and coughing up water, sometimes lathered in sand mud or wrapped like a mummy in seaweed, but there is his ever-present smile and eager, wild-looking eyes.  On this particular day Aaron played the goalie, keeping Raphael from being swelled into the sea.

Eventually AJ joined Raph in the surf. 

Both boys had birthday money from Aunt Jodie that they were able to spend at the toy store.

Andres found "Sharkie" right away.  Later he found a boomerang, like Sokka, a favorite cartoon character.

Look at that very content smile.  A yellow boomerang and a plush Great White to snuggle up with at night.

Did someone miss a nap?  At five p.m. Raph was just tanked.  He got a little car.  

After toys, we splurged at the Ice Cream Shoppe, then loaded up for home. 

Vanilla cream and salt water sand.  What a perfect cherub, my Raphael.

AJ's Birthday Celebrations!

Celebrating you started with me and Papa waking you from your tender slumber at 7 in the morning to sing you the Birthday Song, your father with his golden tenor leading, and me trying to carry a tune in cup.

But for your Big 6, I had it on my heart to give you a stellar Star Wars themed party.  I had visions of Death Star Pinatas, and Jedi Training Coarse stations, and costumes, and had even sent out a save-the-date request to our friends and family to come.  But as it goes, we sadly weren't able to make it happen this year.  As deflated as we felt about it, we knew that a simple, small party was all we could do.

And yet miracles and blessings unfolded.  Your day was indeed a great gift and celebration of you.

The morning was kicked off by our friend Rachel showering you with love and birthday treats!  She had gifts and cupcakes, a balloon, and even lunch!  She knew we had sorely wanted to do a Star Wars birthday and had thoughtfully brought Star Wars gummies to top her delicious little cupcakes.  It was a warm and bright day, a perfect day for a small and special party in the park.

They sang the Birthday Song to you in the sunshine and warm grass in their sweet little voices.  

I think you were over the moon with all the love and attention from your dear friends.  Look at that smile!

When we got home from the park, we found a mysterious package from Amazon with your name on it. Hmmmm....

From Uncle Isaac, Aunt Jennie and Cousin Bella in San Francisco you got another birthday gift!  A righteous T-Rex skeleton mold kit!  

Before rest time, you had had had HAD to pour your first T-Rex bones.  They'd be ready to paint afterwards.

During rest time, I rushed to set up these humble decorations, loaners from my dear friend Kathy who was so willing to share the adorable hand-made decorations from her son's Star Wars Party.  

So cute!  

Aunt Melissa, Uncle David and baby Cousin Matthew were visiting from Spokane!  What a joy to have them be part of your special day!  Melissa was my friend in high school and she "hooked me up" on a blind date with her grunge-rocker older brother.  It turns out, he was my soul mate and without her, there'd be no Andres!

The boys loved their little cousin Matthew.  Raphael especially loves babies and kept trying to prop him up to play with him.  Matthew is absolutely adorable!  He has so many characteristics that remind me of Andres as an infant.  It draws on my nostalgia and although I love these days (mostly) I miss my babies this size, all warm and snugly.  Six years later I am wondering where I've been.  My little snugly boy has grown into a tall, skinny handsome young man.

Gramma Jane and Grampa Mario were able to bring Cousin Esai from Spokane to take part in the festivities.  There wasn't a shortage of love after all.

Look at that boy!  So grown up and smart.  My heart breaks with the beauty of you!  I hope all your wishes come true! There were cupcakes from the party in park that morning and so in many ways, Rachel had given me a birthday gift too as I didn't have to worry about preparing a cake!  

No words needed.  

Toys!  Games!  Clothing!  Woo hoo!

Thanking Uncle David for the puzzles.  Uncle David is a pretty cool guy.  A military vet and that fun, cool uncle that everybody wants to have.

Thanking Gramma Jane for the clothing and toys. 

The next day, Saturday, you got the last gift in the mail from Aunt Rachel, Uncle Tom and Cousin Marianna in Cincinnati.

You call it your Comic Book, and in a week you had filled it out generously with a highly detailed story of Captain Underpants, complete with vivid illustrations and impressive vocab.   You're a marvel, sweetheart.

The window decals from Rachel proved to be an amazing extension of your play and new media for you to create with.  I'd say it was a sweet and endearing birthday filled with much love, thanks to the thought and effort of so many people to help make it so.

Happy Birthday, My Oldest Boy!

Dear Andres-Jose,

Six years is a lifetime for you, but it's been the blink of an eye for me.

I can't begin to tell you how much I wanted you.  How much I prayed for you before you ever entered our lives.

We waited seven long years to meet you, to hold you, to know you.  And after nearly as much time with you, you're still revealing new and wonderful insights to who you are every day.

When your Papa stood behind me in the operating room 6 years ago today, my hand in his, our hearts pounding with trepidation and urgency as they rushed to save your life, I never believed I would have a son.  The thundering heartbeat that made us sob when we heard it on the dop-tone for the first time when you were just 13 weeks old was during labor faltering.  

Even when the doctors said your Papa could announce your gender, and he wept as he said "we have a son!" I couldn't believe it.  Until the doctors assessed you and comforted my fears, until I held your warm, tiny body, did I believe again that your heart was fierce and strong.  All my prayers were answered in that moment.  You were healthy.  You were a boy, my boy, that I had prayed for long ago when I was a little girl on the farm.  You are an answered prayer.

Not much in these six years has gone as we had planned.  But you have been strong all along.

We've suffered a six-car-pile-up, as Papa says, and endured great loss in the tragedy.  You were so young, and we were like zombies, walking around in a haze, eyes glossy and unseeing.  Yet you thrived despite the darkness.  Like a small green shoot popping up through ashes, you grew, and are still growing, and maturing into a creature of magnificent beauty and goodness.

We tried to do the "normal" thing.  We tried to give you a wealth of experiences from which you could gain confidence, skill, and maturity, like other parents around us.  There was karate.  There was soccer.   There were preschool Christmas events.  All of these things seemed good, and logical, and correct.  But yet your little feet never felt comfortable in those shoes.  Too tight.  Too restrictive.  You needed to wiggle your toes!  And the normal expectations dwindled when we realized we were unfair to you, and replaced these expectations with challenges to meet the same goals but by taking different paths.  You are dynamic and faceted, and the road must meet you there in that place to {help us} help you own your gifts and become the man God calls you to be.

You have always loved superheroes.

First it was Superman, and you wore that red cape everywhere.  How beautiful, and boyish, what a thing to miss those days.  You must have worn it a whole year, to church, daycare, the grocery store.  It was an extension of you, and now that I look back, I think it was an extension and statement of your mighty spirit.

I love your creative mind.  It's a beautiful, wonderful thing to behold.  You have vast kingdoms and cities and entire solar systems unfolding throughout your imagination, many of them populated by characters, heroes and villains, spawned from your favorite books or movies, but redesigned in your singular style, and always accompanied with their own theme songs, which you of course composed.  Your attention to detail, your capacity to draw, paint, cut, create, compress, expand, recreate, retell and remember everything astounds me.   You correct us constantly, catching me with a lazy brain, or fumbling with a memory.  You were right about Darth Vader, after all my research online, the top button on his chest is green, not blue, to prove me wrong.  You've a sharp mind behind those sharp eyes, absorbing everything you see with quiet, calculating frankness.  We adults don't know you're filing the details away, processing far more than we're aware.  I know God has big plans for you, great good things in store, blessings beyond our quaint dreams.  I pray that you listen carefully, lean into his voice.  It won't be easy, but He won't let your foot slip.

This spring you created your own comic book character, a ninja you named Red Hendra, and even the world of villainous foes whom Red Hendra conquers. 

Your rendering of Red Hendra, dabbing alizarin crimson on his mysterious red mask.

Old fabric remnant, a shark Megaladon, some dinos, and you.  That's hours of play surviving the roughest waters ever known to man!

You drew your own map of the sea and the island on this day, and we made boats from wine corks and old coffee filters.  Hours of fun...hours.

You are an amazing older sibling, and I'm so glad God gave you a brother.  You're his best friend.
I pray it stays that way.

The past six years have been harder than I thought they would be when I held you small and new for the first time, gazing into your deep Aztec eyes for the mystery of who'd you become.  But the time spent with you in the world, learning who you really are, is also more wonderful then I ever could have imagined.  So I gladly and humbly stand corrected again, sweet boy.

I pray that you own your uniqueness, don't let the world crush you with conformity.  Cling to the you as God designed you because He'll bless you for it.  I'm proud of you, dearest.  You see, in the process of learning your special bend and trying to parent you accordingly, you taught me to own mine.  You remain my greatest teacher, sweetheart.  Let's be different together.  Let's be weird and indie and artsy together.  Square pegs in a round-hole world.  Let's encourage each other to fox trot when the world wants us to goose-step.

I wish you a blessed year filled with new and exciting experiences, as you embark into kindergarten via homeschool, and meet new people who will love you because you're an awesome little man, gain new knowledge, and continue to grow like a tree that is planted firmly beside the river, whose roots go deep and whose leaves don't wither.  I pray that all you do prospers.  Always.

Now, sweet boy, my Thunder Heart, my own little Superman, let's dance.

Donning wellies and my old silk scarf red cape you're ready to rescue those oppressed by the forces of evil.