Continuing on with the story of our summer vacation, I will stop here to show you some pictures of the house - and what a house it was!!!

Can you call it a summer vacation if it's not technically summer? I choose to.

Our "summer" vacation this year commenced on Friday, May 8th and ended on Sunday, May 17th. The location: Captiva Island, Florida. A good long vacation (with four built-in driving days). And long-longed for by all participants. Of which there were 15 counting my kids. The ENTIRE Dennis clan made it this year - which made for a very large crew! Fortunately, my Dad managed to find the most awesome house ever on Captive - a house with six bedrooms and six full baths! Plus a screened in pool, a deluxe kitchen, TVs in every room and best of all, the house was within walking distance of the beach. Perfection perfection perfection.

Our vacation started off with a bang. Brooklyn decided to snag some virus and run a fever for the 24 hour period prior to leaving. When she woke up Friday morning still running a fever, I made the Mom decision to be at the doctor's office when it opened and beg them to fit her in asap. I knew it would be tight...we were supposed to hit the road following my parents at 9:30 am. The doctor's office opened at 8.

Miraculously, I woke up Friday morning at 6:30 - for those who know me well - this NEVER happens. I was ready to vacate this house for Florida! With the car packed and stuffed and loaded down waiting in the parking lot, I burst through the doctor's office promptly at 8 and explained my situation. They agreed to see Brooklyn first thing! Once back there, our friendly doc just about gave me a heart attack when he said he thought she probably had the flu - and he meant SWINE FLU! Apparently, there had been a few cases in the office already, on the down-low. As they swabbed her nose and we waited for the results, I prayed fervently that he was wrong!

I could just imagine it...a house full of people - TWO of them pregnant and my little flu-ridden kiddo just quarantined. I couldn't imagine how it would work. Oh, and I did say TWO of them pregnant - Zach and Anna announced their pregnancy on Mother's Day! Due at the end of November! Yeah!!!

Praise the Lord when he walked back in the door and said, well, it's not the flu! Wave of relief washing over us.... Apparently, just our friendly fever virus back to plague us - nothing we couldn't handle with plenty of Motrin and Tylenol. So we ran out the door of the doctor's office to find my parents' Suburban, fully loaded with car top carrier and three of my siblings, waiting for us to buckle up and hit the highway.

And we were off: with a 17 hour drive ahead of us. I would like to say that for the next 2 days we were model citizens, staying right at the speed limit with both kids safely buckled in their respective car seats. But that would be a lie. We zoomed down the highway going as fast as we had to in order to tail my dad (which was not as much as you are probably thinking, but still by no means slow). And more than a few times, August just couldn't stay buckled in a second longer and I hauled him up to sit with me or nurse him to sleep... a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.

Brooklyn, I am happy to say, was an angel. She slept and chattered with August and chattered to herself and read her library books and listened to me reading aloud to Kyle ("Are you reading to ME, Mommy?"). I actually read aloud for about 8 hours straight on Friday - to the point where I actually lost my voice! But man, it was a good book and worth reading! (The School of Essential Ingredients)

After driving all day Friday and most of Saturday, we made it to Sanibel Island and headed north to Captiva. We managed to meet up with Josh and Lauren traveling down from a wedding in Kentucky - they joined our caravan somewhere in northern Florida. Zach & Anna arrived in Fort Myers right about when we did. Chad and Melissa arrived around midnight. After some serious unpacking and claiming cabinets and refrigerator space, the vacation began...to be continued...

While it may only be the first of May, it feels like summer is rapidly settling in. Although in a typical Arkansas way. A few days ago I pulled out long-sleeve shirts to keep my kids from getting too cold when a bizarre cool front moved through, followed by today's steamy, muggy, soupy weather. Throw in a few major thunderstorms complete with psychedelic lightning, and you just about have it. As a result of all these storms, I'm sleep deprived.

I remember once upon a time really loving storms. But I think that was before I realized that storms cause damage. I.e., before I was a homeowner. Now, every time the wind whips my house about, I pray that the trees hold fast to their moorings, that the shingles stay put, that the power stays on, that the lightning doesn't strike my house, that we are blanketed in safety by the Maker of the storm. It doesn't help that my house is perched on a hill and is, itself, a tall house. We're closer to the clouds and the action. And my windows rattle and shake and notify me of every big blast of thunder, as if my ears weren't good enough to do the job.

My husband sleeps like a log right through every storm. It takes a particularly loud blast of thunder to rouse him, or my finger jabbing him to wake up and be scared with me. Or to make me not scared. :) I have become a master of storm prayers. It might even be said that God likes the storms because it provides the two of us with uninterrupted prayer time! For hours, sometimes!

The other night, as the storm raged on and on, seemingly one enormous, snaky line of clouds rocking and rolling above and around us, I sat up wide awake and waited it out. The lightning was unlike anything I'd ever experienced, so fast and furious that it seemed like a bad wiring job gone amuck. And there are five large windows in my bedroom which let in every bit of light that wants to come in. So I sat there, holding August against me as he snoozed peacefully and I prayed. That God would protect us and let the storm pass quickly. And I prayed for every single person I could think of, particularly those who've asked me to be in prayer for them. People were PRAYED for on Tuesday night. And at some point, I went to check on Brooklyn, thinking she must be awake, too. And sure enough, her little voice peeped up, "I wanna sleep in your bed!" So, I made an exception and let her. So for the next few hours, Kyle was jammed in beside me and the two kids - who were wrapped snugly in my arms. And I kept praying. Eventually, the lightning slowed to regular intervals and the sounds of thunder became distant, rather than right on top of us. And I fell asleep for a few brief hours. But I still haven't recovered from the sleeplessness.

And I feel that sleepiness more potently as the air weighs heavy with humidity and afternoon sunlight. The birds chatter outside my window and things are incredibly lush and green. The weeds, in particular....And I am reminded that all storms pass. And even if they do cause damage while they're tearing it up, they also are necessary to keep things alive and growing.

One of those little, not-so-subtle messages God likes to send me.

In my reading of Bringing Up Boys, I read that boys will bring their own unique spin to things that their big sisters may also enjoy. For example: Brooklyn loves her dollhouse. She invents scenarios and drama and moves the people around to different rooms and talks for them....August loves to play with her, too. But for different reasons. He tends to just eat things - which could also just be that he's teething. But I was amused tonite to notice him repeatedly taking a wooden cabinet and doing two things with it (other than chewing on it): 1) he kept opening and closing the doors and 2) lifting it up into the air and dropping it.

I think it's the boy in him that is fascinated with the opening and closing of the doors because I've never seen Brooklyn do that. And I KNOW it's the boy in him that loves the sound of the toy crashing to the floor. Totally boy.

What you can't hear is the hideous sound of this chair being scraped back and forth across my tile floor. It gave August GREAT joy. Until the inevitable moment when he pulled just a little too hard and the whole chair came crashing down on him, spilling the basket of Easter eggs stationed on top of the chair. After a few mandatory wails, he realized he was fine and began pursuing all the rolling eggs with great enthusiasm. I love that they find their own entertainment!

Just as Brooklyn has done, August finds my yoga poses too intriguing to resist interfering. If I am holding a pose, it must be so that he can crawl under, over, through or on top! And I can never resist kissing his sweet face when he pulls up on me or plops down on my stomach. Kyle and I figure it's an extra challenge giving us fitness bonus points.

I have this cookbook, How to Be a Domestic Goddess, by Nigella Lawson. It is chock-a-bock full of delicious recipes, many of which I have held off making with the thought that I would save it for a special occasion. But the problem is that most special occasions involve my family. And experimenting with my family (outside the four of us living in this house) is rarely a good idea. Too many opinionated people with non-experimental pallets. As much as I love them, I don't want to waste the ingredients! So, as I was flipping through the pages, inspired by my friend Anne's recent raspberry layer cake, I paused on the page with Butterscotch Layer Cake. I can't tell you how many times I've almost made it.

So, with no reason, no occasion, just because I could, I made the Butterscotch Layer Cake. Every piece of it from scratch - including cake, caramel, icing, etc. I will tell you that I learned a very valuable lesson during the caramel-making process. Be patient, but when it starts to turn the slightest bit tan, pay close attention. Don't go off to work on something else or you will have blackened goo to soak out of your pan. I know from experience. I tossed that batch and went again with much greater results the second time.

Lots of Nigella's cakes call for self-rising cake flour which is something apparently sold in abundance in England, but not to be found over here. You can buy self-rising flour and you can buy cake flour, but not self-rising cake flour. I have found other frustrated bakers online who've overcome this problem by making cake flour self-rising through the addition of salt and baking soda in a certain proportion to the flour. It seems to work. I have yet to forego cake flour and just try self-rising flour, but I might next time as an experiment.

So, aside from that slight deviation, I followed her instructions exactly and was quite pleased with the results! I did end up making this right before Kyle left which meant it was up to me to eat it. Not a good plan. I ended up wrapping it up and taking it to Sarah's house so they could help me finish it off.

At his 9 month check up today, August weighed 23 pounds, 10 ounces and was 30 inches long. That means he's planing out on weight! He only gained 10 ounces since our last visit but a whole inch! AND, we're actually ON the growth chart this time: 90th percentile!

When I was working full time and having to eat lunch on the run, my favorite place to do that was Boulevard Bread Company. Which sounds much more limited than it actually is. Not only do they make the best artisan bread I've ever had, but they serve the most fabulous sandwiches (I would do time to eat one of their turkey sandwiches), soups, cookies, etc. And their staff is of the variety that's sort of eclectic...you get the feeling that everyone who works there is an interesting person. One might argue that EVERY person is interesting, and that may be, but not every person LOOKS interesting. I used to be on a first name basis with all the employees there, but not any more. Although there are still some of the same people...I've just been away too long! Now that I'm no longer a DINK (double income, no kids), well, it's not affordable to "lunch" there as I used to. I'm now a SITK (single income, two kids) or OIGF (one income, growing family), so a Boulevard lunch is an incredible treat.

I was thinking to myself as I stood in line waiting for my order to be prepared, just how much I loved the store. It's not a large store. In fact, it's usually best if you order and take the food with you. But it's a store that makes you want to be a gourmet cook. The walls are lined with shelves which contain every imaginable exotic ingredient of which you've ever heard. Boxes upon boxes of fancy sea salts...dried, organic pasta in every shape and size...olives, pine nuts, chocolates, cocoas, coffee beans, a counter displaying oodles of cheeses...pastries...homemade cakes...organic butter...organic fruits and vegetables... It is my happy place. I am ALWAYS happy when I'm there.

If I could, I would hide away in the bathroom until after closing and sneak out into the silence and take my time perusing the shelves. I long to explore every obscure item, pick up and examine the different cheeses and meats, attempt to construct one of their turkey sandwiches, just poke around to my heart's content. Will this ever happen? Not likely. But it's one of my odd fantasies. As a "foodie", something about that store whispers to me that I, too, can be a master chef...I, too, can whip out a seven course meal fit for a king...it makes me aspire to culinary greatness while at the same time fulfilling my craving for seriously good, quality, eco-conscious food. Oh yeah, makes me happy just thinking about it.

Today, I came home with what is definitely a splurge purchase. An 8 grain, heart healthy bread that costs way more than I would normally pay for bread. BUT, it's a special occasion. Tonight I'm making the Spanglish sandwich and it requires GOOD bread. It may not look fancy, but it's dense, packed with flavor and grains and the perfect compliment to mayo, lettuce, tomato, bacon and a fried egg to ooze out over...Even Kyle concurs. Happy place.