Camp Kav's

Hello Mother, Hello Father, Here I am at Camp Kavanaugh's (come on...add the extra syllables). Things here are entertaining. I think we'd have some fun if it'd stop raining. And it did! Thursday through Sunday were beautiful days in Brainerd, MN, and John, Charlie and I relished in every minute of the sunshine and beachy weather. Actually, the entire week was a wonderful break from the Texas heat and an amazing time spent with family.

Every year John's mom's side of the family gets together at Kavanaugh's Resort in northern Minnesota, and about six years ago, I was lucky enough to get to join the Wahlers for my first trek up north. I had no idea what I was in for. John had described Kav's as a group of cabins on a beautiful crystal-clear lake with a beach, kayaks, pools, boats, and tennis, volleyball and basketball courts, but I had no idea I was heading to grown-up camp! I didn't go to camp as a child (not sure why, but I'll blame it on my parents and the fact that I was the youngest of four), and when I got to Kav's, I realized that I was about to get to make up for all those years lost. Kavanaugh's is an experience unlike anything else.

For an entire week five families get together for laughs, games, story-telling, food and fun, and while it should be intimidating to spend a week with 25+ of your husband's extended family in close quarters, intimidating couldn't be farther from reality. John's ridiculously lucky in the sense that he has this unbelievable group of aunts, uncles and cousins that couldn't be more loving, interested, supportive and down-right fun. A group rises early and fishes in the morning, one group golfs, another group walks, still another group rises late and then the afternoon is spent at the beach kayaking, swimming, playing Scrabble, tubing or on the tennis court. Then there's dinner, each family hosts a night, and then kickball, softball, volleyball, fishing, Trivial Pursuit and/or smores. The biggest dilemma in the day is whether or not there will be enough delicious leftovers from the night before to devour at lunch. And this year, we even had little woodland creatures, chipmunks, that would wander into the cabins during the day snagging pieces of bread, cheeseballs or cereal. They were always promptly chased right back out, but there was something Cinderella-esque in having these little guys walk right in through the open screen door.

John and I start looking forward to the next year of Kavanaugh's the minute we leave, but when we left last year, we had no idea that this year we would have a different mindset, a different challenge and a completely different agenda. While it was still a week to relax and spend with family, this was our first big trip with our little family. Our first plane ride together, our first night in an unfamiliar place, our first time since the hospital to sleep in the same room as Charlie at night, and the first time we'd be somewhere where we couldn't rush home if we needed to. I wasn't sure how we'd all fair, but John and I were eager to try because we firmly believe that family comes first and wanted to share with Charlie all the love and friendship awaiting him in MN. And well it couldn't have gone better. Charlie was a total champ on the plane, even with a three hour delay as we laid-over in Dallas, and did really well with the two and a half hour drive from Minneapolis to Brainerd. It was a 14+ hour day of travel on the way there, and we couldn't have asked for a better traveling companion. Sure there were bouts of tears, but we didn't have any major meltdowns. It's official - Charlie is a road warrior.

And while we had a fantastic week experiencing lots of firsts with Chuck and basking in the week-long unlimited family time for the three of us, my biggest take-away from Kav's this year wasn't that I came home ridiculously relaxed or with a bit of a tan, it's that we witnessed some really healthy and happy family dynamics. Parents, their children, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins laughing, playing and reminiscing with one another, and I couldn't help but think what an amazing experience it is to block out some time each year to get everyone back together in a place where there is little distraction and lots of activity to fill the day. A reminder that quality family time isn't always about doing what you love or want to do most; part of the magic of Kav's is that it's just as fun to get to enjoy someone else's favorite activity with them. This week reinforced the importance of putting family first (I can't imagine missing out on all that love!), but it also reminded us the importance of making time to get away from the distractions (we may be drinking the koolaid Kacie Case) and staying active with our little family. Luckily, I inherited an exceptional extended family with deep family roots and lots of love to go around. Thanks for another great year Freaks/Gahlons/Hussey/Wahlers/Wolters clan. Can't wait to do it again!

It's a boy!

The 'ole disclaimer: I've written this post at least a dozen times in my head, but I never could work it out. And with my brother's birthday this week, it finally seems like good timing. It's definitely out of sequence, but well, I had to say it.

"Can you tell me what that is?" Dr. Mankovsky excitedly questioned, and immediately I knew the little person swimming around inside of me was a boy - our Charlie. Honestly, I was afraid to say it aloud because I didn't really know what the hell he was pointing at - totally having a Rachel (from Friends) moment - so John said it and Mankovsky confirmed.

My entire pregnancy leading up to that moment I, and almost everyone around me, knew I was having a little girl - Emma. I did every old wive's tale of a test we could find - the necklace test, the hair test, some weird questionnaire we found online, and last, but certainly not least, peeing in Draino (don't ask). Everything came up girl. Everything. And I was thrilled. I know girls. My very favorite girl, my neice Madi, was born when I was a junior in high school, and I was so excited about having a little one of my own. So when we learned that big boy Charlie was actually the one jumping around in there, I was in a bit of shock. How was I going to raise a boy? And then it hit me, Charlie could someday be a big brother! And I know the magic of a big brother.

When I realized that, God-willing, Charlie could someday be someone's big brother it's like everything was right in the universe. Of course our sweet Charlie came first. I'm the person I am today because of my big brother. How do I know that when you get SO hungry you burp? Kevin convinced me to go get him food numerous times with this fun fact. How do I know the difference between my radiator and my engine? Kevin gave me a quick lesson after I burned my engine up by filling it with water. How do I know it's better to put my money in the bank than try to hide it around my room? Kevin repeatedly stole my babysitting money. How do I know that it's okay to sing your ass of and dance however the rhythm moves you? Kevin. How do I know that I shouldn't drink too much? Kevin got me wasted when I was in 8th grade, and it sucked. How did I learn how to laugh my way out of frustrations? Kevin talked and laughed me out of too many woeful situations. How do I know boys should come to the door when they pick you up rather than honking in front of the house? Kevin antagonized my boyfriends. How do I know that when you really love and enjoy someone's company it's okay to just sit quietly? Kevin. And how do I know that David Allan Coe is amazing and it's freaking hilarious to wrestle while you listen to Cat Steven's Peace Train? You guessed it...Kevin.

So even though it's still daunting to think that I'm raising a little man, I feel confident in who I want Charlie to become, and I know that if Charlie is even partially as kind, smart, funny, and loyal as Kevin, John and I should count our blessings. And surely, when we have more children it gives me so much comfort to know that they'll have a big brother to teach them, protect them, and make them laugh.

Happy birthday, fool. I love you.

The Light in the Refrigerator

There's a poem by Erma Bombeck that compares a dad to the light in the refrigerator, claiming that every house has one but no one knows what either of them do when the door is shut. I read this poem several times with my classes of pre-AP sophomores discussing tone and word choice, but ultimately, it always made me reflect on the dad I have. Luckily, I don't have a refrigerator light kind of dad. My dad took me on walks letting me jabber away about what I was learning at school, we went for donuts on weekend mornings, he let me come to work with him and answered as many questions as I could ask, we played on-the-spot trivia games (if I only could have remembered the capital of Vermont!), he told me jokes, we devotedly watched Coach together, he let me have soda when I wasn't "technically" suppose to, he let me tag along on business trips and wasn't embarrassed when I puked from eating too many chocolate-covered strawberries on the concierge floor, and he taught me about friendship, respect and loyalty.

You would think that with a great dad I would have been hyper-sensitive to the type of dad I would want my future child to have, but to be honest, I'm not sure I ever really gave it a thought. John and I met when I was 16 and started dating when I was 17. I can assure you that at the age of 17 I wasn't considering if this guy would turn into a great dad. I knew John was kind, smart, thoughtful, loyal, funny, and loving. I knew I wanted him to meet my family. I knew I wanted to stay together when he went off to college. I knew I should make an effort to find a job in Austin even though I was set on moving back to Dallas. And I knew when he asked me to marry him that I was the luckiest. But still with all these certainties I never once pondered what kind of dad he would be. When I would balk at the idea of having kids, John was always the one dismissively remarking, "Come on, we're gonna have kids." And I knew he was right. How could we not?

When we found out I was pregnant (and the shock wore off), John and I could be found literally high-fiving about how awesome we were going to be at this parenting thing (wild and naive confidence!), and so I guess in the back of my mind, it was just a given: he was going to be a great parent because he is a great person. But nothing quite prepared me for actually experiencing him be an awesome dad. From day one, John jumped in with both feet. He loves on Charlie with all his being and delights in the little, seemingly insignificant moments with his new son. Listening to him sing the theme song of Charles in Charge (the words actually work quite well with a new baby) to Charlie or watching him give Charlie his bath makes my heart swell. When he walks in the door and immediately starts talking to Chuck about how much older he looks than when he left for work, I almost can't believe that this is the same guy I fell in love with all those years ago. Without hesitation, John's found a way to be an amazing, hands-on parent and is working ridiculously hard to make all the dreams we have for our new family a reality. Charlie and I are more than blessed because we have him to take care of us. And fortunately, Charlie has a dad that is every bit as interested, involved and dedicated as the dad I am fortunate enough to have, and for that, I could not be more grateful.

So here's to all the first-time dads, the seasoned vets, the grandpas and everything in between. Happy Father's Day!

Just Do It Already

I have a dream. Not an awe-inspiring, change the world dream but a dream nonetheless, and when I was seven months pregnant, I broke the news to John - I'm going to run a marathon. If you know John at all, you realize these are probably the most romantic words that ever could have stumbled out of my mouth. He was immediately on board and started encouraging me, creating a training plan and excitedly and repeatedly asking, "are you really going to do this?"

Something about being gigantically pregnant and restricted from running made me want to set a seemingly unattainable goal. I'm not really a runner. My sprinting career was not inspiring. Obviously, I can run. It's just I'm not a diligent trainer. My training effort for the Austin Half was certainly not inspiring. I am, however, wildly stubborn. After blowing off my training plan and never running more than 5 miles at a time, I pushed through the Austin Half when it seemed impossible. And I know if I would require my body to train, it would happily oblige. I just have to remember what it felt like to not be able to do something and just do it already.

So here's the goal - the White Rock Marathon (well, now the Dallas Marathon) on Sunday, December 9th, 2012 in less than four hours. And there's the really unrealistic portion of the goal, but what's a goal if you know you can achieve it?

For all of you saying, "Whoa, no. Not me!" - Right now, these are my training partners. We go slow, but I hear every step counts. Now, who's coming with me?!

True Love

For six and a half years, Stanley was our number one. John brought him out in a little basket for Christmas in '05, and ever since then he's been one of the biggest loves of our life. I mean how could you not love this little guy?!

Over the years, he's gotten a bazillion treats, too many dog toys, birthday celebrations, Christmas stockings, long walks, daily dog park visits when he was young and rambunctious, shoes for long hikes, etc. etc. He's the most loyal and wonderful friend John and I ever had, and there were many times we could be overheard talking about how overwhelming it is to love an animal this much.

I swear Stanley knew I was pregnant before we did. Early in my pregnancy he could be found sprawled across my stomach and later laying his head on my growing bump.

We never worried about introducing Charlie into Stanley's life because he's always been great with kids. Super interested and lovingly laid back. He's even been known to take a little bit too much of an interest in their diapers. Ugh. 



We did make an effort to make the transition as smooth as possible. We tried not to get too frustrated when Stan would emerge, yet again, with one of Charlie's new stuffed animals, we let him smell all over Charlie's new clothes, and before we left the hospital, we made sure we had one of Charlie's hospital blankets to lay in his bed so he could get use to Charlie's new smell.

When we got home, Stanley was definitely more excited to have us home than he was interested in the little guy we brought with us. He smelled him, laid on Charlie's hospital blanket and followed us around when we got up for feedings or made laps around the house calming Charlie down, but overall, he was tolerant and randomly interested. I knew Stanley would eventually love Charlie really because we love Charlie, and he always just kind of follows our lead. But I didn't want to push it with either of them. I'm not sure my heart was prepared for their love though. John was about to walk out the door for work this morning when Charlie woke up, so he scooped him up and laid him in bed with Stanley and me. Charlie immediately dozed back off to sleep (little ninja!), and the next thing I knew Stanley was pawing at me to get under the covers. I let him under and surprisingly, instead of heading down to my feet, he circled around and squeezed in between me and Charlie. My heart practically exploded as they both snuggled in and drifted off to sleep. Looks like Stanley's as much in love as we are, and Chuck doesn't seem to mind.