Don't cry over spilled milk?

Oh, Please! It will take a lot more than spilled milk to make me cry. In fact, it takes a full 20 fluid ounce glass bottle (minus 1 tablespoon used in a recipe last week) of soy sauce shattered and seeping under my fridge to make me cry to be exact!

The kids were finally in bed and I was in the middle of making a mental laundry list of all the liquids, expensive makeups, and full jars of rank minced garlic that have been accidentally knocked over or willfully thrown down in the past week and coming to the conclusion that, once again, apple juice is banned from my home, when I thought I would make myself a much needed, but not well deserved ice cream sundae. I was pulling the chocolate sauce casually from the fridge when I inadvertently knocked the full bottle of soy sauce down to my freshly mopped kitchen tile. At the moment of impact I didn't curse, I didn't scream, but I did do my most thrilling impression of that high society lady in Thoroughly Modern Millie who shrieks, "SOOOY SAAUUCCE!!! SOOOOOY SAAUUCCCE!!!" after Julie Andrews tries to clean her expensive dress with the substance. And no, the irony of the moment was not lost on me. I tend to see life/the universe/the little voice that lives inside my head as a practical jokester that waits until I cry "Uncle!" just to give me one more twist of the arm. So I shouldn't be surprised at the exact moment when I was saying "Enough is enough!" that the Powers-That-Be decided that my day was lacking a grand finale. And I will tell you as I looked at the mess that I had just created my first instinct was to wish someone else was around to clean up after me. Not my mother, which is a big step for me to realize I AM the mother, but a MAID. For a split second as I watched the trail of sodium-rich black juices flow through the grout like a flooded, swollen river ravages a small village, I swear I wished that I could just step calmly away, ring a little bell and wait for Maria/Olga/Mrs. Doubtfire to appear and tell me to go sit down and eat my ice cream and she would make it all better. That is when I started to cry. And I cried while I picked up every last shard of the demolished Kikkoman bottle. I cried while I sacrificed an overused beach towel to mop up the wasted sauce. And I cried as I pulled out my Swiffer WetJet for the fourth time today. But, I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and poured a heaping helping of chocolate to my now lukewarm ice cream. Now it is well-deserved!!

Deflated

The other morning I woke up to Claire looking like this:

(I immediately had her freeze that pose so I could grab my camera)

She had gone to bed the night before with a beautiful, rotund, high-on-helium, bright orange balloon that she got from a trip to Chik-Fil-A with her Nana. She wanted to sleep with the thing actually tucked in her covers, but her concerned parents would never let that notion fly. (Cory was afraid the string would somehow wrap around her neck -- PARANOID! And I was worried that it would somehow pop in the middle of the night and wake me up -- SELFISH!!) So we compromised and let her sleep with it positioned exactly over her head so her eyelids would droop as the string hypnotically swayed in the breeze of the ceiling fan. A great compromise. Too bad that crazy old balloon had no staying power.

Well, here you go, girly-girl, life lesson #543: Life is going to suck the wind out of your balloons. Call me a pessimist (I actually prefer the term realist) but that's the simple truth. In fact, sometimes it doesn't mess around and it will POP those hopes and dreams instead of leaving them to wilt on their own. And it's never too early to learn that important lesson, my sweet little 4 year old. The trick is to not put all your helium into only one. Your chances of keeping some aspirations afloat greatly increase if you have more than one that you are clinging to. Keep dreaming -- but don't just dream BIG, dream a lot!

In the End...

• Everybody made it to school on time -- even though it took us running in 100 degree weather (in the morning and me pushing a double stroller in flip flops) to accomplish that
• Grocery shopping for the week was checked off my list -- after a fight with the cashier over a coupon discrepancy and, oh yeah, I forgot to buy eggs
• I went to my step aerobics class -- arriving 5 minutes late and leaving 10 minutes early. But a workout is a workout!
• That dust pile that I had gathered 10 times today (and was consequently dispersed 10 times by my naughty toddler) finally made it to the trash can.
• The dishwasher was unloaded -- right before I loaded it again with the dinner dishes -- better late than never!
• The clean load in the dryer was finally taken out after the "enhanced touch up" button was pushed 3 times -- don't ask me if they've been folded yet
• The kids were fed -- a nutritious meal of hot dogs and grapes
• I didn't eat all of the ice cream while watching 2 Glee episodes back to back -- just a large portion of it. (I think that negates the workout)
• I said "I Love You" to each of my kids while tucking them into bed and I genuinely meant it.

"In the end the only people who fail are those who do not try."

This year my little boy turns seven -- seven!! The age of seven has always been a breaking point in my mind -- the age where a kid starts slipping away from the mama's boy mentality and into more uncharted and independent territory. The age where the opposite sex becomes the enemy whereas just a year ago he couldn't tell a difference. Seven is also a very significant number for me personally. I have loved the number 7 ever since the third grade multiplication tables where I learned to zip through the sevens in lightning speed -- go ahead and test me, I've still got it! But that digit became even more critical when Cory would tease me and declare that he was only marrying me for 7 years and then, if mutually favorable, we could renew our "contract." (3 years ago on our 7 year miracle mark I actually had a real contract made up and will share it with you all some day. Yeah, it's about time that I dusted that thing off and see if we are both living up to it.) But, back to Alex.... Since he is 7 it means that it has been 7 years since I became a mother. Seven years of faking it, winging it, and losing it. Seven years of giving up, giving in and getting back up. Seven years full of moments I wanted to run away from and moments that I wouldn't trade for the world. I remember a time when I was little and I lost something and, after some intense questioning, my mother told me exactly where to look for it. When I asked her how she knew where to find things her response was, "Moms know everything." I have later related that memory to her and she is appalled that those words would ever leave her mouth, but I remember them quite clearly. And, truthfully, I believed her and still do where she is concerned. I wonder what my kids think of their mother who quite clearly does not know everything. I think, young as they are, they already realize that I don't. But it has been an adventure and one that I am grateful to not be alone in. Thanks for the last 7 years, Alex. Your father and I have conferred and would like to extend your contract. Bring on the next 7 -- I'm game if you are!!

A love letter to a Ship

Dear Carnival Cruise Ship Valor,

I got your email last week. Sorry it's taken me so long to write back. The demands and cares of life have gotten in the way, something you know nothing about. But in your note I noticed a faint flicker of longing. You miss us?!? Well, I miss you, too!! I miss your blackout curtains that allowed me to sleep until 10:00 am. I miss the bed that I never had to make and the little towel animals that I never could guess what they were trying to be. (The only argument Cory and I had on the entire trip was whether one such creation was a bunny rabbit or a praying Princess Leia.) I miss your big beautiful vastness that I got lost in every time I tried to make it to the dining room. Oh yeah, the FOOD....I miss the FOOD!! I miss the midnight pizza runs, the taste-of-the-nation buffets, I miss the warm chocolate melting cake that I had for dessert on 3 separate occasions. I miss the trying of foods that I would never in my life try before -- the escargot was a hit, but I could do without the cold cucumber and pumpkin ravioli. I miss getting dressed up for dinner, being waited on every night, and not having to do the dishes. I miss the ice cream. Boy, out of all the things I put in my mouth it is the ice cream, most of all, that I will miss. I am having a hard time now on dry land without the vanilla swirl on top of a cute cone that signifies the end of a meal. I don't think I can ever forgive you , however, for closing early on the last "fun-day-at-sea." Because of the faulty half hour in scheduling I never got a taste at the burrito station and you also practically kicked me out of line at the chocolate buffet. What was I supposed to do with my bananas foster without a drizzle of chocolate over it? But, alas, I will not let that taint my whole experience....

I miss the adventures we went on. I miss the beautiful beaches of the Cayman Islands, the snorkeling off the west bay in Roatan. I miss hiking through the jungle with a tube on my shoulder and a helmet on my head to go cave tubing in Belize! I miss renting the jeep and getting lost as we toured the whole island of Cozumel. (oh yeah, I guess there was one more argument there.) I miss the speaking of my dusty Spanish to the bus driver and putting a monkey on top of my head and making friends at every port.

And I sorely miss Brent and Melissa who were just a cabin down from us who served as our partners in crime (i.e. gambling) and our personal cruise ship directors (i.e. everything fun that we did on land and sea.) You, Carnival Valor, served as a buffer zone between our two realities
-- school life and real world life. A world where you see your friends everyday (multiple times in a day) to a world where you wave at your neighbors as the door of your garage is closing them out. Because of you we were able to delay reality for a week longer

But as life gets more and more busy, I guess I miss the idea of you most of all. For months we have planned this trip and thought about it and prepared for it. There were times a couple of months back that the only way I got through the day was thinking about you in the near future. That was the only way I got through the horrendous move down here back to reality. You were the only way that made it easy to say goodbye to our old life in Berkeley -- because you were at the end of it.

You have served your purpose, dear friend. And, true to your name, you did it with valor. We will probably not meet again in this life (I don't think you sail to the Mediterranean hint hint) but every time I pass a soft-serve ice cream machine I will think of you.

With love,
Kelli
Cabin # 1262

If this were a job I would surely be fired. (This is in reference to blogging and not to my current employment as a full-time mother. But there is some debate on my work ethic in that category as well.) So here is a quick recap from April and May just so I can remember that some incredible things happened in those 2 months.

First and foremost....

One of us celebrated a BIG one!!

And I gave myself the gift of a long weekend in San Diego (ALONE)to see one of my favorite people. (You made the blog, Kelli!!)

We cheered Cory on as he raced his first triathlon with the promise of many more to come!!

And another of his great accomplishments....

Well, actually it was a family effort. Just looking at these pictures makes me swell with pride, though. It was a great day to celebrate all Cory has worked toward (and all that we have endured) for the past 2 years. We did it!!!

But along with the joy of a job well done came the reality of leaving people who felt more like family than just mere friends.

I miss you, girlies!!

Then we moved our mess from one kitchen....

...to another!!

So here we are, calling Arizona home once again. We are loving getting lost in the ramped up square footage and running into people we went to first grade with at the store.

This still seems like an extended vacation -- like we are on an internship for the summer. And I'm okay with that for now. I'll let you know when reality sets in.

Welcome home.

P.S. Do I have to change the name of my blog now?

Spring Break -- The Trilogy (Part I)

(with 3 family members in school and each having their own Spring Break -- be prepared for some Spring Break overload.)

The Setting: Carmel, CA

The Plot: 6 couples and their 7 children rent a vacation home in a beautiful city in order to achieve their ultimate goal -- having as much fun as anyone can have with kids.

Starring: The Wiltbanks

Supporting Roles: The Pearces and the Paces (although I have a sneaking suspicion that they were the real main characters)

Directed by: Melissa

Produced by: Molly

THE REVIEW:

This humble critic was pleasantly surprised by this young family of five's first attempt at a real Spring Break vacation. We've all seen their previous works of day outings to the zoo, into the city for a trolley ride, and even to Chuck E. Cheese, but this latest production was in a league of its own. It is mainly due to the extreme vision of both the producer and the director that the Wiltbanks were able to see beyond their meager student's budget and pull off an adventure that will certainly withstand the test of time. This forward-thinking enterprise was filled with all the elements of an exciting vacation:

Tears turned into laughter
Extreme Danger
Illegal child smuggling
all combined with a classical literature twist!

Not to mention the late night card games and bull sessions once the kiddos were in bed. But the highlight would have to be the beautiful sound of the sink disposal combined with the stainless-steel dishwasher echoing through the vast vacation home in perfect harmony.

The trip could have used a little editing. We could cut out altogether the 2 hour drive down filled with "Stop Copying Me!!" and the occasional sucker punch from the backseat. And I could totally do without the horrendous fall of Buster down the wood planked steps to the backyard. Too traumatic -- this is a family show, people!!

All in all I would give it a resounding 5 stars!!

*****
Thanks due to the wonderful producer and director!!

Great job, ladies!!

Can't wait to do it next year!!

Stay tuned for the continuing saga of "The Week O' Claire" followed by "Alex Takes a Break"

First Post of 2010 -- One thing off the Checklist

Hi, we're the Wiltbanks. Maybe you've heard of us. There was a time when a very detailed blog was once kept to record all the peculiar particulars and riveting ramblings of our little family. It has been so long that I feel I need to reintroduce the gang. So in no particular order.....

Buster is a whopping 9 months now!! Crazy how time has flown. He's got 2 brand-spankin' new teeth that he loves to show off with an irresistible smile. He's mastered the art of the army crawl and unfortunately this month he figured out how to maneuver from a sitting position to his tummy so he can explore. Gone are the days when I could just plop him on his little bum with a pile of toys in front of him and come back 20 minutes later with him in the exact same spot. And even more annoying than the stuff he finds to put in his mouth is the stuff that comes out of it. We've got a puker!! He's lucky he's so cute.
Claire Bear has started referring to herself as "Me-Claire" which has perplexed us all. "Me-Claire," she will say, "wants some cereal." "Me-Claire, I'm hungry." "Me-Claire, I want to read a book." All. Day. Long. When she is happy she refers to everyone else in the family as "you silly, willy, billy." But when she is upset you don't want to be referred to at all. (Steer Clear!!) A couple of months ago during Christmas break she got her beautiful long hair cut into an adorable A-line bob. That has eliminated the after-bath brushing fiasco and made her look so grown up.

Alejandro is growing and growing. What is it with these kids?!? He's so tall now that we had to go on an emergency pant run for anything that would cover his ankles. It took some doing to convince him that he could wear something other that "blue pants" which is code for jeans, but, with some help from some very complimentary friends of mine, cargo pants and cords are now "okay."

Cory has become the fitness guru of the family and life seems to be a little less fun with that new twist. I think every marriage should have an over-eater so, with still weight to lose from the bearing of Buster, I have stepped up to the plate. But, we're really proud of our new active DAD and his passion for running/biking/swimming and all things good-for-you.

I have made the mistake of sticking to just one of my New Year's Resolutions.... all media is turned off at 10:00 p.m. That means no more TV or sadly computer. It has really helped in my quest to get more sleep but who knew that I only update my blog when it's too late to think straight. Hence, the lack of posts. I have about 2 more minutes before this monitor turns into a pumpkin so I better wrap this up!!

The Wiltbanks are BAAAACK!!