Love The Ones You're With

My mother (who lives in Washington state) flew to San Diego to visit my sister and her family.  Soon after arriving, my brother-in-law, George, received news from his dad that George's mother had passed away.  Devastating.  The memorial service was to be held in Oklahoma where Darla's family is from and within a day, the whole family loaded in the 15 passenger van and headed East, making a stop for a few days in Texas.  We had 9 precious visitors and loved, loved, loved getting to be together.

I admire the heck out of my sister, Crystal, and her husband George.  They live in love, joy and they make each day count, impacting lives through their relationships and sharing Jesus in the most down to earth, real way I've seen.  I will never forget Crystal checking out at the Dollar store and asking the clerk who she had made friends with about how his siblings were doing, etc.  They know how to love people -and we are blessed to get to be some of those folks.

They arrived on Saturday night and we settled everyone in on makeshift beds and got up bright and early on Sunday.  Brian actually never went to sleep.  He was prepping for a marathon he decided to do on a whim and left waaaaay before sunrise, winning 2nd in his age group.  Yeah, that's my man!

We went to church, came home -the rest of the day is a blur to me, I think we went to the store- and trotted on over to Dukes for some BBQ and a chance for the kids to muck about.  And it was documented.  Oh!  And we had a nail painting party in the driveway.  All children (except 12 year old Zaccai) and Crystal and I participated.  Wish I had pictures, but instead of snapping away, I decided to enjoy the moment.  Sometimes you have to resist the urge to document and just let life happen.


Kaeli and Hannah



Mom and Zaccai



Waiting and drooling.






Timmy and Wilder



Hannah and Waverley.  So stinkin' sweet.



Timmy and Crystal.  This mother, I tell ya what.  She knows how to love her kiddos.  Makes me tear up thinking about it.



Priceless.



Criming, as Wilder would say.






Wesley


Timmy, Wilder and Wesley.


Miss Kaeli


Miss Aravis dancing on the picnic table in the sunset.



Pretty little feet.



She was told to smile for the camera.



Grandmama and her grandkids.  Hey, life is real.


The Kings are Party Central.



Happy Faces.


And...

Wacky faces.



And a mix of both.



Zaccai hoisting Timmy, Hannah looking beautiful as usual.



Love, love, love.



Wesley and George.  Actually it's George Wesley King and George K. King.  So, it's the Georges.  Or is it Georgi?



The Men: George, Zaccai, Wesley and Timothy










Crystal and George are high school sweethearts, married at 18 and the best example of a healthy, happy marriage I've yet to run across.  Through the 14 years they've been man and wife -and the previous 3 that they dated- it has been an honor seeing them bind together, create such a beautiful, unique family and see God's hand in their lives.  It's been AMAZING, and I love them to pieces.






Wilder would not leave his beloved dirt pit and Timmy has no idea why.






Kaeli = Spunky.  She is full of life, a natural thespian, enjoys instructing others and, well, basically lives on full-blast.  She's one of a kind, a precious little lady and -watch out world!



We found this homeless boy wandering around.  My kid will be dirty for at least the next 10 years, bet my bottom dollar.



Don't you just love boys and their attraction to sharp, pointy objects?






My Viking and the Cling-On.  Waverley has been, oh, let's just say "attached."  She loves being held lately.  Now if only she'd let me take a nap with her, that'd be something.  I miss those snuggle times -she was such an angel baby.  But we're done -no reading "I wish I had more kids" into that statement.  We're good.  We're good.



Oh, I forgot to tell you!  Wilder requested that for his birthday (Monday, the 24th) he wanted to have the Christmas tree up with presents under it.  So, we put the tree up before the family came and treated each day like it was Christmas.  We came home after dinner to watch "Home Alone" and play cards.  That's how we roll.  Christmas in October.  I mean, really, why wait?  We were all together, let's make the most of it!

Adore/Despise: The Lists

I was getting ready for bed and all of a sudden my brain began making lists of things I adore and despise.  Better than love/hate, because that's just too definitive.  Adore/despise is flexible, as in Anne despised Gilbert, but grew to adore him and they eventually got married.
Adore/Despise.  And so it goes...

Adore:
Peace and quiet
Extremely long, extremely hot showers
Cozy cups of tea
My rockstar husband
The cutest, silliest kids on the planet, who I happened to give birth to
Peace and quiet.  Wait, did I say that already?
Creating of all sorts and kinds.  Sometimes trouble.
The sensation of connecting with wilderness and being utterly free
Road trips and Adventures
Thrifting
Antiques and vintage-y things
My extended family
Old pictures
Journeys
Instant gratification.  Let's be honest -I'm an immediate sort of person.
Creative, inspiring and positive people who see possibilities and go for them.
Sleeping in vintage slips.
Cardigans
Crisp air in the morning.
All sorts of wonderful scents -like coffee brewing, a clean house, Waverley's hair after she wakes up, lemon candles my mother sends me, crisping bacon, the knees of jeans after they've been worn (now I'm just getting all sorts of weird.  I'll stop there.)

Despise:
Negative, vocal people
Being pressured into purchasing things
"LOUD NOISES!" (quote, anyone?  Anyone?)
PMS
Putting Christmas decorations away
The very word "organize" and all it means
Disappointing people (but it happens and I must get over it)
Doing dishes and laundry (so I don't do either and I'm a dirty person)
Thinking of things I despise, so I'll stop there.

I spent a little time tonight on the good ol' internet catching up on some of my favorite sites and I got hooked on a fashion/style site that features fashionistas' personal closets.  I was reminded of a girl I went to college with -an art major named Amber- who was the pinnacle of style in the most avant-garde sense, and who I oh-so wished I could be like somehow.  I may not have become an "Amber" but viewing these very personal style shoots, peering into closets of the artistic-minded, made me feel so free and, well, European, for lack of a better descriptor.  I connected with the deep, very alive part of me that is creative and expressive and loves to live and be exercised.  I was inspired.  I was challenged.  I was transported to a part of me that I want to be awake more often -every day.  That "French" side of me that lives honestly, boldly, creatively and fully.

Perhaps I needed to meander a bit to find where I am.  Here.  In the full spectrum, color-wheel of Kelly.
Adoring and despising and creating and growing.  The learning never ceases.
Perfect love casts out all fear.  I want to live and give in such love.

I Married Superman

He'll cringe that I posted this, but it's true:  I married a superman and I'm telling.

Bragging (and a little disgusted,) my mister runs half marathons for breakfast.  Literally.  He gets up in the morning, pulls on the lycra and tackles the sunrise, ten miles at a time.  Today's accumulative goal:  20 miles.  Did he make it?  Uh-huh.

I know.  I know.
(beat)
Sorry, it takes a little bit to recover from the magnitude of this daily routine.  Heck, he works out so much, I don't need to anymore.  Quite frankly, I don't want to run after all the running he's done.  And biking.  Did I mention he rides, too?  With five hours of sleep, he hops on his bike and does, oh, 30 miles.  Then run 13 in the evening.

He. is. a. maniac.  (And -ugh- does he look good.)  I'm just sayin'.  (Here's where I crescendo into an operatic strain about how lucky I am to be married to such a hunk.)

Brian has been out of the Army for 1 1/2 years.  Most folks I've known who exit the workforce to become stay-at-home parents tend to get a bit, well, soft.  Me? I got a trophy husband instead.  He's even got a neighborhood nickname (I'm not telling.)
How 'bout THEM apples, eh?

Yes, yes, this has been a bit of a brag-fest on my part, but the point is:  My husband continues to wow me.  He has always challenged my thinking of what is possible and he has helped me stretch myself further than I ever thought possible.  He continues to challenge himself and, as result, challenge me.  I am inspired and in awe of his determination, persistence and patience.  And that's just in our marriage, not to mention how he implements that into his personal goals.

His birthday is coming up.  I think I'll buy him a cape.

Video: October Kids

More Pumpkins + Munchkins

Our dear friends, Lucas and Sofia, came over yesterday for some quality time with large, orange orbs.  We has a fun-filled mini-session with all of our children and I wanted to share some of the ooey-gooey cuteness.



Boys who share chairs.



Sofia, the prettiest girl I've ever met.  Besides Waverley, of course.


Toooooo funny.














And now, for my crew.

A LITTLE hilarious.



Boy, oh boy.



Thank the good Lord for sticks.



Wilder saw this picture and said, "Hey rook!  Criming!"



Old Faithful.






Sissy!! (Her nickname.)



Mama's shoes.



Yep.



The set up.

Wilder had a heck of a time allowing me to move the pumpkins to the studio upstairs.  He insisted they needed to be outside by the hay bale.  He finally assisted in bringing one lone tiny pumpkin upstairs as I lugged the rest of the big ones.  Once the kids were all here, they quickly learned, "WOW, pumpkins ROLL!  Let's see if they BOUNCE!"  Uh...
Fortunately, we did not encounter any smashed pumpkins -though they were tossed.  And one fell on Wilder's head while he was horsing around outside.  I know it's bad, but it was actually quite hilarious to see the chain of events.  Wilder sitting on top of the hay bale, pretending to loose his balance, truly loosing his balance, tumbling to the ground (complete with an aerial somersault,) and the pumpkin rolling off his body like he was a slide, ending with a bit of a "bonk" on his head.  Take a bow, you have now been accepted into the circus, kid.

Happy Fall to Y'All!  (Oh my goodness, I really did just type that.)  This Alaskan just may be turning Texan.

Where are my boots?