This house we rented fascinates me.
It's perfectly situated on a bay of the Atlantic Ocean.
It originally belonged to a sea captain.
The family raised 13…..THIRTEEN children in it.
We hadn't been here a full 24 hours before I came to the decided conclusion about a couple things as they relate to the American family.
The problem is not that our kitchens are too small.
The problem is that we are too big for our kitchens.
our lifestyles
our stuff
our expectations
our distractions
our lack of attention to the things that really matter…
all those things get in the way of living…I'm convinced of it more than ever.
When I look at these quaint painted floor boards that are mostly different widths and lengths,
I'm reminded that people used to be more concerned with function than aesthetics.
We have significantly limited electronics even more than we normally do this week away and let me just tell you, is it liberating.
So freeing that it's almost addicting.
I've contemplated unplugging all together except IG…that's my favorite.
Not sure how many more blogs I have in me and Facebook is so incredibly cluttered.
But I love seeing pictures of my friends' families and babies,
and then there's the potential to miss semi significant news,
…so there you go…I must be an addict.
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Now that I'm home:
Maine, specifically Mount Desert Island, is
quaint
wholesome
clean
community strong
simple
absolutely beautiful
This was our first non-beach, non-Disney family vacation so I wasn't sure exactly how it would be to "park it" for 8 straight days in a National Park with four kids ranging from age 5 to 13.
It wasn't without some bumps and bruises (literally and figuratively),
but it was a bonding experience, as expected, and a trip that makes me smile, laugh, roll my eyes, and feel really grateful when I think about it.
First time for Little Miss to fly
and the first time in a few years for the bigs.
I had nightmares about
my kids falling off a cliff while we were there…
so I was the Cliff Nazi.
Here is Brad, grinning, because he knows I would freak out if I saw the edge of this cliff.
His job was to motion to how far the kids could come down.
I sat at a safe distance with a death grip on Emma…
all the while looking at Brad as if to say.
'If one of them falls off, you may as well jump off after them, because I will kill you.'
Our first (OF MANY) hikes.
The problem with hiking, is that I don't like the unknown.
I don't particularly care for surprises.
I don't like hiking on a trail that we aren't exactly sure…
how long, steep, or difficult it will be for the kids.
and if you can't promise me that there will be an unforgettable view at the top, then don't ask me to start climbing…because only the scenery makes it worth it.
Brad, on the other hand, is content to just start up the mountain.
1 mile or 5…makes no difference to him.
So, off we would go…every single time.
me, with my reservations
and him with his gusto.
He led
I followed
a little behind
with Emma's hand tightly in my own
every once in a while yelling,
"Brad! You're going to have to slow down a little"
and then when her feet would fail her,
he would scoop her up and put her on his shoulders
and we would keep right on going.
Funny thing.
As much as I resisted the unknown,
I was never disappointed in the reward.
The views
the sense of accomplishment
the thrill of heading back down
made the climb worth it.
After hiking Gorham Mtn.
Emma was not down with the whole "V" for victory thing.
As far as she was concerned, she fell twice, scraped her knee, and generally speaking, walked enough to last her a year.
I believe her exact words were,
"I do NOT like hiking."
such a little trooper.
her daddy and I were so proud.
her "soccer shoes" made her be able to hike….said she.
Lobsters.
We bought them from a neighboring Lobsterman.
He was awesome, and I'm pretty sure Brad was in heaven.
Our back yard for the week...
can't.hold.my.eyes.open.any.longer.
So thankful to have a bed to call my own.
~stacey
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