Today is my (37th) birthday.  To celebrate, I sent the kids to school, went to my hula lesson (where my BFF gave me a beautiful silver turtle necklace), sat around playing with Molly and playing Bejeweled for a good part of the day waiting for the refrigerator repair guy to come and tell me my fridge is fine (after we lost a whole fridge and freezer worth of food because of frost/ice build up over the last few days...Yay.).  He did indeed come, and did tell me my fridge was fine (?) and left just in time for the big boys to get home from school and keep me on schedule for my big pampering afternoon.  Ben babysat so I could go make sure that what you could see at age 36 years 364 days ....



...could no longer be seen at age 37.  (I couldn't add enough arrows to point out all the grays and wiry whites that are there or you would have only been able to see arrows.  There are So. So. Many.)

My friend Kelli did a little now-you-see-'em-now-you-don't magic on my head and presto change-o I feel like a whole new woman!  (Who is probably 3 pounds lighter just from the 14 inch long ponytail worth of hair cut from her head.)  I let Kelli play with whatever color she wanted to play with (but resisted the enormous urge to let her blend her pink and blue dye so I could have my lifelong dream of purple... I feel like I need to show a bit of restraint right now...All I really wanted today was to get rid of that dirty, dingy looking brown and gray!) 

When Willy saw me he said "Wow!" which I like to assume was "Wow you look great!" and not "Wow what the heck have you done to yourself?"  Ben said "Hi Hottie Mama" which may very well have been the statement that made my whole week.  Molly said "Pretty" which she usually only says in reference to her own blond curls. Brady replied "YEAH!" with enthusiasm bubbling over when I asked him if he liked it.  (I realized he thought I was asking if he liked the new XBox 360 demo they had been playing when I got home, but he insists that he does like my hair, too.)  Toby was the only one who said "Why does it look like that?" but he said it with a smile and snuggled his face in my hair which I like to take as a sign of overall acceptance.

Willy took me to dinner at my favorite fancy-ish place (Buzz's) for the best salad bar ever, excellent chicken stir fry and a yummy slice of complimentary-for-your-birthday oreo ice cream pie.  Ben babysat again (have I mentioned how exhilirating it is to have a child old enough to babysit the younger kids?!  He loves making a few bucks and I love getting a night out with Willy!!) and it was a lovely, lovely evening. 

So without further ado, pictures of my new 'do.  Here's hoping it will cooperate with me tomorrow.  I'm a little nervous about the inability to just pull it into a ponytail if I'm having a bad hair day, but I'm also really glad for that inability too because basically I've been wearing a ponytail and looking like every day is a bad hair day since moving here!  Here's to a new look!

   
 


And just for nasty reference... here's my standard day-to-day hair "style".  My long hair twisted and clipped leaving a shaggy ponytail of sorts.  Not pretty.  Just off my neck.



And here it is when I wore it down long (which was about once every 3 months or so... this picture happens to be mid-October which was about the last time I actually wore it down ) and about an hour later when I was so fed up with it that I twisted it up with a pencil and called it good.  As much as I love the look of long hair, I NEVER wore mine down long and pretty so it was time to go!

 

So yeah.  It was time for change!  YAY for fun new hair!!

This is what happens when you leave a 4 year old alone with a few slices of cheese and a return address labeling stamp.




If your Christmas card from us smells funny or seemed a bit extra cheesy, you now know why.

All three of my boys have managed to make my jaw drop today.  Thought I'd share how they each caught me off guard in their own way.

Ben has a really cute friend-girl that he has recently pledged his undying like for (Reciprocated!  Awwwwwwwwww!)  He wants to get her a gift for Christmas and recently asked me how much the shell necklaces with flowers on them are at the swap meet (about $2 by the way, perfect for a 12 year old friend-girl gift, in my opinion) and he decided that's what he would get for her.

But this morning he asked me "Do they make necklaces with names on them?"

I told him "Probably".

"Would they have one with my name?"

"Sure, probably. Ben is a fairly common name."

"Would they have one with Sarah on it."

"I'm sure they probably would. It's also a popular name."

I was thinking it was cute he wanted to get himself a necklace and a similar style for Sarah, and I was totally clueless about his actual plan until he clarified and threw this curve ball at me, completely catching me off guard...

"She can wear the Ben necklace and I can wear the Sarah one!"

AAAAAAARGH!  He's 12.  Like, Ben.  LIKE!  No girlfriends.  You're too little! (Although saboteur extraordinaire Willy told Ben to ask me how old I was when I had my first friend-boy.  Um.  Heath Romrell.  Age twelve.  *sigh*)  At least I know I've got a sweet little romantic Romeo on my hands and that maybe I won't have to coach him too much on how girls like to be treated.  (Incidentally, he got her a matching necklace, bracelet and earrings.  Big spender.)

Brady this afternoon managed to shock me, too.  He's the third child in our family this week to get sick.  Molly had a high fever and vomiting on Sunday through Monday.  Toby got it next from Monday through Tuesday.  And yesterday afternoon Brady came down with the fever.  Brady is one of those kids who demands attention and care when he's sick.  When he's miserable... we're all a bit miserable.  There's much moaning and whining and wailing.  So it's a little hard to know what to take seriously and what to take as, well, theatrics.  He responds really well to ibuprofen, so every 6 hours or so I pump him full of it, his fever drops and everything is hunky dory for a few more hours.  When he started moaning and wailing this afternoon at about the 5-hours-since-ibuprofen mark, I was prepared to deal with his misery for a bit and then redose him.  But then he went and caught me off guard when suddenly from the other room I heard some violent retching, and then "I'm sorry!! I got it on the carpet!"  He darted around the corner with his two hands full of dripping vomit and rushed toward the kitchen sink as I'm squealing "NOT THE KITCHEN!" so after he dumped half the puke in the kitchen sink he ran to the bathroom to get rid of the rest.

So I got to take the puked-on rug outside and hose and scrub it off and send a bona fide sick kid to bed (where he slept for almost 3 hours!)  So we currently stand at 3 of 4 kids who've puked in the last 72 hours. I wonder if Ben is doomed? So far he's dodged the fever/aches/pukes bullet. Can he be so lucky to avoid it altogether?

Toby today managed to catch me off guard with his 4 year old vocabulary.  He was playing a Nerf dart tag game with Ben (much to Brady's whining and wailing dismay... "pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease be QUI-ET!  You're hurting my heeeaaaaad")  Toby pinged Ben nicely with a nerf bullet and said in as sinister voice as a four year old can muster "It's all part of my brilliant plan!"  He may as well have followed that up with a "MUWAHAHAHAHAHA" for as pleased as he was with himself.  Silly boy.

Molly hasn't caught me off guard today.  I wish she would.  The way she could surprise me would be to go a day without one of these.  Alas, she's done this twice already today and we've still got an hour to go before the clock strikes the magic hour.  (All you parents out there know exactly why 8 p.m. is magical.)







Update:  She managed to SHOCK me after all!!  While I was uploading the tantrum video, Miss Molly allowed me to put pigtails in her hair tonight for the very first time ever!  And she's even left them in for over an hour now!!! My little "baby" girl looks so grown up.  *sniff sniff*




This last shot is her "happy girl" face, which we can sometimes get her to do when she's pitching a fit or sobbing for some reason.  We ask her to show us her happy girl face and she'll manage to force this smile out before promptly going back to her tantrum or tears.  (Guess I should have tried that last night when I was filming her fit, huh?  Duh Mama!)

When we moved to Hawaii about a year and a half ago, we were determined to experience as much of the Hawaiian culture as possible and go and see and do everything we could manage to to go and see and do while we lived here.  When we were in Northern California we never took advantage of all the amazing things there are to do there because we expected to be there a very long time and when we left we felt badly that we didn't take our kids to the Redwood Forest, or Lake Tahoe, etc.  We've done our best here to make sure we don't leave with any regrets or "We wish we would have..." thoughts and we're not wasting any time experiencing all we can find to experience, because we've learned that you simply never know when or where the Lord will lead you next.  We've tried to embrace this adventure and opportunity to the fullest.

One of the things I had in my head right from the moment we got here was a desire to learn to dance hula.  A woman at church was a hula instructor and I intended to start taking lessons with her adult class early in 2009, but she had to make the decision to close her dance studio, and I never searched out any other options.  But a few months ago the opportunity arose again, and I was able to start taking dance lessons at the Akala Dance Studios with my great friend Michelle, who had previously taken hula from our mutual friend at church.  It didn't take much convincing to get me to sign up for the class, because it was something I'd wanted to do since arriving.  But I remember before the first day of class having a complete anxiety attack about going forward with my plan.  I was terrified of being judged, terrified of having to pour myself into a form fitting Hawaiian dress, terrified of not being able to learn the dances, just plain scared to death of the whole opportunity.  I cried the morning of the first lesson.  Actually, I sobbed.  I had a full-blown panic attack, but forced myself to go to the class, and with the exception of some VERY sore muscles after a few classes, it hasn't been a painful experience at all.  In fact, as long as Molly is being cooperative and not clingy during my lessons, my hula time is one of my most relaxing and enjoyable times of the week.  So far we've learned two dances and it's been a really cool experience.  So fun, in fact, that I went temporarily insane and agreed to participate in the first dance performance of the year.

Saturday night Akala Dance Studios had their first performance with all dancers involved, from the little 4 year olds up through the "Aunties" (my group).  I wish I could have watched the younger girls perform but I was backstage in the dressing room practically dry heaving I was so scared.  It's ridiculous, as I used to THRIVE on being in the spotlight and on stage.  But I've never performed strictly as a dancer before (I've danced on stage in musical theater and such, but that was with acting and singing equally as prominent as the dancing.) and I was downright petrified by the thought.  And it's been a looooong time since I did any kind of performing, so jumping back on stage as a dancer this time was just an outrageously scary experience.  I cried to Willy that afternoon because I was so scared.  I must have practiced the dances 100 times on Saturday to try to convince myself I was ready.  I just totally knew I was going to botch it up and forget everything I'd learned and practiced.  My confidence was completely non-existant.

Fortunately our dance to the song White Sandy Beach was first, and it's a much simpler song to dance to (primarily because it's in English and I could understand the lyrics and get my clues to helping me tell the story through the hula).  I was a nervous wreck as each of the other age groups went out and performed and our turn approached.  But when we got out on stage at the Aloha Tower I settled into the enjoyment of dancing hula and remembered everything just fine and really had fun with the experience.  Still though, I was shaking like crazy for a good 5 minutes after getting off the stage. 

The second dance, Koke'e, was actually the first dance we learned so we've been practicing it the longest, but during the learning process Molly was going through a really difficult stage.  During lessons she would SCREAM for my attention.  I think she knew I was doing something for myself and she didn't like that my world wasn't revolving around her for that hour.  She would sob and wail and throw herself on my feet, etc.  It was really frustrating and made the learning process extremely hard for me (and probably my class members... d'oh.)  And the dance is much longer with less repetition, so each verse is unique which means there was more to learn with this song.  AND it's in Hawaiian, making it harder to get your dance step clues from the lyircs.  I LOVE this song and I love the dance though.  But come Saturday I realized there were still some parts of the dance that were still really sketchy for me and that I'd just been following along during lessons rather than really learning those parts that I'd missed due to Molly's tantrums.  So I was SCARED for the Koke'e performance.  But again, it went really smoothly.  I did fumble a bit when I spotted my family in the audience and I did have to try to keep my eye on my friend a few times to keep me on track through the parts of the dance that were fuzzy in my head, but it was fun and I really did ultimately enjoy the experience, despite the practically paralyzing fear I'd felt beforehand.

The most important thing I learned from Saturday's experience was that there's no sense in holding myself back from experiences because of my fears.  The number one reason for my fear and discomfort with the idea of performing was my weight and appearance.  I have a friend who has set a really neat example for me over the last few years of tackling one thing each year that she'd previously said she couldn't do because she was "too fat" to do the thing.  I decided I had to get over my self-issues enough to do something that I knew would bring me joy.  And hula does do that.  I love the movement and the music and the culture of hula.  And I can't let being "too fat" stop me from doing something that's almost magical to me.  And I learned Saturday night that just because I'm fat doesn't automatically make me unworthy of being on stage doing something I love.  Brady must have told me I did a "great job!" at least 10 times throughout the rest of the night.  And I even had a random stranger come up to me after the performance and say "You are a beautiful dancer.  I really enjoyed watching you dance!"  She was so kind and genuine that I couldn't even question her sincerity.  (Well I couldn't question HER; I did question Willy though to make sure he hadn't paid her to say that... )  It was a very empowering night and I'm so happy that I've added dancing hula to my life!

I'm still really sheepish about sharing the video of me dancing.  When I watch it I see the flaws in my very beginner movement.  And I am very VERY critical of my physical appearance.  But I still feel joy watching myself participate in something that's good for my body and soul, and I suspect my mom would really like to see these so I'm going to go ahead and share these videos.  (Eeeek.)   Here's hoping the video works... it was a LOT of drama and frustration to get the files from our new camera and onto youtube which was the only video sharing site that would recognize the video file and blah blah blah.  Frustrating!  Not sure it was worth the hassle just to embarrass myself by sharing these...  Oh and the songs each cut off before the end because Willy tried to snap a few photos too.)







And a few photos of the night...

Willy wasn't in the best spot for photos because of lighting and stuff.  But here's the nicest, least grainy shot of actual dance.



And here's my friend Michelle (minus pink hair this time...)



Here are my groupies...



And just a close up shot of the gorgeous lei and haku (ti leaf crown) we wore for the second dance and that made me feel like a princess.  (I hated our little flower headpiece in the 1st dance LOL.  The angle of the video makes it look even goofier because it just looks perched up there heheh)

Starting to wonder if there's merit to that old saying "Nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there." 

Ants?  Been there done that.  More or less conquered the buggers.

Geckos?  Cute from a distance.  Their movement still startles me and I have no desire to play with them the way my kids do, but they really don't bother me any more.

Rats? Oh yeah there was that one stuck in my car door.  Good times.

Mice?  I can hear them occasionally in the garage.  I've dealt with mice in previous homes.  Feel I can handle it.

Cockroaches?  The hardest critter for me to get used to, but I don't scream as loudly when I see a big'un any more.  And I have actually reached the point where I can even just flick the little brown ones away if I see one on my car door frame or whatever.  In getting the ants under control, we got the happy side benefit of somewhat getting the giant roaches under control as well, so we really haven't had trouble with them in the house for a while now. 

But CENTIPEDES?!?!?!  CRAWLING ACROSS MY TV ROOM FLOOR?!?!?!

Uh.  No thank you.

Worst.
Houseguest.
EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gotta love being terrified in my own house. 

The worst part is that Willy leaves for Korea in the morning and now I get to live in complete terror for the next 10 days wondering if I'm going to have to try to conquer one of these things myself.  *shudder* *gag* *convulse*  I will seriously just curl up and die if I have to face one alone.  A giant flying B52 cockroach sounds almost welcome after seeing this thing creep across my floor.  ACK!

A close up cuz I know you want to see the detail... *shudder*  (Thank goodness for zoom... no way I was getting close to it to get the detail.)



A little better shot to give you size reference.  See Willy's giant man fists?  I'd say this one's at least 6" long.



And just to make sure you get the full freak out factor... a little video for your viewing  torture pleasure.



Sleep well.  I know I won't...