Here's to Tomorrow!

My parents, sister, and nephew were all at our home tonight. We popped in Julie & Julia. I laughed to myself when Julie was so excited to get a single blog comment early in the movie. I wondered if I might get just one comment if I posted to my blog. It has been so long.

I fell asleep before the end of the movie. I said goodnight to the company and climbed the stairs. I was the only one awake. I slipped through our bedroom door and scooped up Son1 in my arms. He had fallen asleep in our bed. He didn't exactly end up in my arms. He was more dangling to my ankles. I nearly lost my balance as I took a step backward. I am only 13 inches taller and he is only five! How long had it been since I last carried him like this? Probably several months, probably before I had the baby, probably before I hit my last trimester. Wow. Images from the book I Love You Forever rushed through my mind. My baby he will always be. Sigh. Lord, please tell me he might remember the good things from today. Could he remember playing trains with his brother, or that his daddy rushed to the grocery store this morning so he could make him a special breakfast, or that we let him stay up late with his cousin? Could he remember spouting train whistle sounds and sirens, or the balloon he got tonight at church, or a baby brother that was truly amused by his antics?

Could he just forget a mama screeching over Christmas breakables? Could he forget that I was grouchy and sleep deprived with a touch of holiday stress thrown in for good measure? Those are not the Christmas memories I want for him this year.

I am so proud of him. He has grown so much in Kindergarten. He is thriving in school, in AWANAs, and as a big brother. His heart has grown by leaps and bounds for his two little brothers. He is so loved by his parents, particularly by an imperfect mother who needs tomorrow to come, so I can start again.

Where Have All the Farmers Gone? (Sung to the Tune of "Where Have all the Flowers Gone?")

Where Have All the Farmers Gone? Weeeellll....I had a baby. And I am alive. I am not freaking out. I already did that weeks one and two. He is our very last, and I am enjoying his little newborness to the absolute fullest. And I am in DEEP LOVE. That takes up my time. But for all of you Farmer fans that cheered me on during labor and on Facebook and on Twitter, don't worry...I am going to give you the birth story very soon.

In other news, in a moment of sleep deprivation, I decided to blog with a group of friends on a brand new blog. A long time friend read an article in the W--hington Post and was inspired to start a virtual baking group. I was so excited! I know most of the ladies from when we lived in the Northern Virgina beltway. Some I have never met, except online, because they are friends of friends. And some ladies I don't know, but I will! I just posted and you can read it here. It is all about my motorcycle riding with wind in my hair. See you there!

Welcome JK Farmer #3 to San Diego!

JK Farmer #3 was born on 9-3-09 at 5:37pm. 7 lbs 13.2 oz, 19 3/4" long, head was 13 3/4" Right now he is having some dinner...

Twas the night before my Induction...

This is the very last night I will be pregnant. And I am emotional for so many reasons. Seriously, I just stopped to wipe my eyes because the tears just spilled.

There are the medical reasons I am emotional. I am nervous about being induced. I was induced with my first child. He was born on his due date. And here I am again. With my second baby my membranes were stripped. He was about a week early. This is the longest I have ever been pregnant. I am five days overdue.

I am notorious for being picky about doctors. My OB is amongst the best. She has the pedigree to prove it. And I am delivering at the most "shee shee fancy" hospital in the county. I was born there, you know. But none of that brings me comfort.

I have wanted this third child for a long time, probably since I knew I was marrying my best friend. He was not so sure. But I just always hoped we could agree on three kids. Here I sit, with a completely healthy, whole, beautiful baby that I will soon meet, Lord willing, in a few hours. I am beside myself that God has blessed me a third time.

I wanted three children more than I wanted a girl. Shame on complete strangers that do not understand, but feel liberties in making faces when I say I am having a third beautiful boy.

THREE.

In a few hours the third baby will be here. I will hold him. His daddy will hold him. I will be more emotional. I just know it.

I knew this day was coming. And maybe I am just a little nervous that I will miss the early days of Son3's life, because it will all be a blur. I hope not. I want to feel every single moment of a newborn baby again.

I have had those same feelings about savoring the moments with my five year old, my two year old, and my husband. I have poured as much as I could into my family of four, my two sons, and my husband. I love them so much. I have not wanted 2009 to be "the year we moved to San Diego and we were busy getting adjusted and we just did not do anything but that." Nope. I did not want the days to turn into months, and then for us all to wonder how we got a year older. This pregnancy has allowed me to slow down, to appreciate every time we heard the heart beat on the doppler, and saw the baby on the ultrasound monitor. I have appreciated the minutes, the days, and the weeks. When I said "no" to anything else, I was saying yes to them. We spent long days in our new back yard this summer, laughed, hugged, and played for hours. I packed the kids up, spun them around town, and sang silly CDs in the car with them at the top of our lungs. We made trips to Coronado for an hour here or there, just because lunch with Daddy was possible. And often, very often, both the boys wanted to know about the baby wherever we were. He is at the forefront of their minds.

This pregnancy has meant something to all of us. Every single member of our family is excited. Every single member reaches often for my belly, to feel Son3. They press, he kicks. They are loud, he kicks. Both boys lift up my shirt and kiss my belly spontaneously, or talk to the baby, or reason that he kicks because he must feel trapped and he wants out. Son2 is convinced he can push him out.

One day Hubs totally surprised me. He told me how beautiful I am pregnant, how he wants to remember these moments that our family is excited, and he arranged for a photo shoot at Coronado Beach. These are his shots of me, of the kids, and I love them. Professional pictures will get posted one day, you know, when I don't have to get to bed. That night on Coronado Beach was seemingly perfect. It was warm. It was peaceful. It was about our family.


Wednesday morning I was up early with Hubs, the day before my induction. It was in the 6am hour, and he was ready for his work day, and I was ready for mine. I came down the stairs, and a slow smile spread across his face. He called me outside to take pictures. So here we are. Son3 and me, overdue.

The other side of my emotion is excitement. I cannot wait to meet the newest Farmer. I cannot wait to see his teeny tiny face in my hands. And most of all, I cannot wait to share him. I have had his kicks all to myself, his movements to myself, and even some of the discomfort to myself. Now he will belong to our whole family in a different way. His daddy will hold him, and his brothers will kiss him. I know my heart will be full. For that, I am emotional, too.

Last Day on the Big Island

On our very last day on the Big Island Hubs and I made a plan. Well, really he made a plan because he loves me so much. We would drive all the way around the Big Island, northbound to Hilo, and end our day in Kona, back at the airport before our very long flight back to the Big Rock. The plan was to stop at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park one last time. Could we find my camera?

We left our hotel in Waikoloa and headed to North Kohala, and into Kamuela, or cowboy country. I missed the shots of the Kohala coast that resemble the moon on our drive into Kamuela. Yes, the moon. The landscape all the way to the ocean is a crisp black, not green and lush. The blackness is dried lava. You can see some of it here, from a trip we took when we lived on Oahu, and visited the Big Island.

Hubs and I love Kamuela. We could totally see ourselves living here. It is at a higher elevation, and about a 20 minute drive to the beach. It is the "largest" city in the interior of the island, with a whopping seven thousand people. It is cowboy country, or paniolo country.
The cowboy town holds a strong Mexican influence. Living here is not cheap by any means. Parker Ranch is the largest privately owned cattle ranch in the United States.

The hills are rolling green. It is cooler up here. And there is all kinds of livestock. It is peaceful and my kids go nuts when they see all of the farm animals.
About here our two year old started crying for apple bananas. It was so cute to hear him plead through his tears for us to stop. We stopped days earlier here for apple bananas and he remembered. Hubs pulled over at an organic health store and bought a bunch for less than $2. And Son2 giggled through tears, and we all smiled. My kids love local Hawaiian fruit.


Between here and the Hamakua Coast much of the island is a two lane highway.

We emerged from the rolling hills of cowboy country to the majestic Hamakua coastline. Whizz! This was taken while driving...can you tell?Our direction, the highway continued in one lane, and in the other direction, the highway opened up into another lane.
Whizz! I could not risk dropping another camera. Son1 was screaming for me to check the wrist strap. Trust me, there are waterfalls down there.
Finally we came into a very wet Hilo. It rains most on the Hilo side of the island. Whizz! Still driving...we had a plane to catch that night. It takes roughly four hours of drive time without stopping to drive the whole island. This is the small historic downtown.
Just minutes from downtown Hilo is Volcano Village, just outside of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. We stopped at what was deemed the best Thai food in Hilo. The restaurant is very family style, and the Thai food is island style. This was seriously the best Thai food I have ever had. The summer rolls enveloped fresh pineapple, and the fried rice was garlicky and mmmm island style. Everyone ate their fill...Hubs, boys, and I were stuffed and satisfied. It was a very good feeling.
Love this sign at the park entrance.
Hubs made a quick turn at the entrance toward the Kilauea Iki Trail. The rain was really coming down, and the roads were packed with cars and slick with tropical rain. I jumped out and took photos of the trail head where we had hiked.
We hiked this entire ridge, down into the crater floor, and back up the ridge, before I dropped my camera.
I really, really wanted to see this steam vent on the floor of the crater, up close and personal. One day we will go back and we will make the whole hike out there, I just know it.
And that sweet Hubs of mine snapped my picture in the rain and in the steamy vog because I WAS THERE.
We crossed the parking lot by car to the Thurston Lava Tube. The tube was totally packed. The ground was slippery and muddy. We all came to the final realization (well probably it was just me that needed to accept) that my camera was deep in a crack in the tube somewhere. We knew we could not find it that day. It was gone forever. So I took a picture at the edge of the overlook, clutching my camera, exactly where I dropped it between these two signs.The camera tumbled down, down, down this canopy of ferns, and deep into the crevices of the lava tube below. This was pretty painful to be back. Instead, we left the park, and continued on our trip around the island.
We rounded South Point, the southern most tip of the United States, and up into the South Kohala Coast.We soaked up every bit of Hawaii we could, until the sun set. And we said aloha to what we once knew as "home." But in Hawaii we say "Aloha, Ahui hou." We do not say goodbye. We say, "Goodbye, until we meet again." And Hawaii, the Farmers will meet you again. We miss you too much to say goodbye forever.

Tropical Dreams at $26 a Gallon is Worth Every Penny!

Hubs and I knew one MUST DO on the Big Island was stop at Tropical Dreams ice cream farm. The short version is we stopped, bought our half gallon of Banana Storm, and ate it back at our vacation unit. The much better story is the first time we ever discovered Tropical Dreams.

On our very last trip to the Big Island before we moved from Hawaii, we kept reading about Tropical Dreams ice cream. It was supposed to be THE ice cream on the face of the planet. We set out to find the farm and forgot our guidebook! We remembered the farm was in Kamuela. Somehow, the idea of a FARM did not stick in our brains. We drove all over the small town looking for an ice cream SHOP.

We spotted a hot pink store front and pulled over. We asked if they served Tropical Dreams. NO. Before loading in the car, my kids spied a huge turtle coffee table in the real estate office next door. They wanted to pet him, but he seemed made out of Koa wood, and I thought the better of it. I steered them toward the car when Hubs slipped inside. I did not notice right away. He talked story a bit, and walked to our car with papers in hand. I thought he had property information. Ha! The realtor printed out map and directions to the FARM, less than two miles away. We found the farm in a few minutes. In the middle of this farm is a warehouse.
Now we just weren't sure what to expect. Hubs hopped out alone to check things out. A few minutes later he emerged from this warehouse, swinging a plastic bucket, clutching a brown sack, and making eyebrows at me with a wide smile across his face. This stuff had to be serious. In fact, it was. In his prized bucket was Banana Storm, at $26 a gallon. He had a half gallon, and paid $13. For some reason they were closed, but had the door to the warehouse open. The owner(?) sold him the ice cream anyway, with some plastic spoons and some styrofoam bowls. She said the ice cream was super hard, but should be just right if we made the drive to Hilo, 60 miles away. We were headed that way, anyway. She told him all about the ice cream. Mmmmm. I am getting there.

Hubs thought we needed a serving spoon because plastic spoons are just not the best for serving a half gallon of ice cream. It was a Saturday, and we rounded the corner from the farm and saw this sign:

Hubs flipped the rental around, and pulled over at a home in the neighborhood. I slid out of my seat onto the driveway, and he handed me a few dollars. I poked around a bit and found a handful of stainless steel serving spoons perfect for scooping ice cream. I asked the lady how much for one spoon, and she said I had to take them all for fifty cents. Deal.

I jumped back in the car, and we started the drive toward Hilo. Soon enough the kids were wise to our ice cream bucket, and were STARVING. Oh they just could not wait. Oh they were so HUNGRY. When were we going to stop??? Hubs caved and pulled over at a nice park along the Hamkua Coast. We grabbed a package of wipes, ice cream, spoons, and bowls and sat at a picnic table under a huge tree, looking down at the Pacific Ocean. We pulled the top off of Banana Storm. I took one long look and scrambled to pull the shirts off the boys. I could only imagine they might want to bathe in the ice cream, and I had not even smacked Banana Storm across my lips yet.
Oooh la la...Banana Storm. This is what we learned about this ice cream. The ice cream was named by an employee originally from Guam. When storms grace Guam, bananas fall to the ground everywhere. So it is called a banana storm. This ice cream is made with all kinds of local fruit. And it isn't like other ice creams where you get a little chunk of this or that about the size of a penny. No.NO.NO.

Oh. My. Word. I have NEVER ever had such frozen goodness grace my buds.

The ice cream is classified as "superpremium." Such ice cream is made with 18% butterfat and is "low overrun," meaning the amount of air mixed in while freezing. It makes the creamiest, densest ice cream EVAH. (Grocery store ice cream is 10 to 12% butterfat.) And the bananas are NOT the long yellow ones sitting out at your grocery store. Oh NO. These are locally grown apple bananas. There are half strawberry fruits and half oreo cookies in there. These are not little ground up chunks. NO. I am talking about half pieces of cookie from the top of the plastic tub all the way to the bottom. Mmm mmmm mmmmmmmmmm!
This was officially the beginning of the end of my South Beach diet in December. I am only going to confess to having at least two bowls. I will not confess more than that. My family had just as much as I did, too.
We were so thrilled to visit Tropical Dreams once again on our trip this summer. Hubs and the owner talked story again when he picked up the half gallon. We will be back, Tropical Dreams!

Waterslides and the Price of Fine Japanese Food

I finally quit moping about the camera I dropped down the lava tube. It was making my family too sad, and the kids needed me to get wet with them. Unfortunately, Hubs had a horrific accident a month before we left on the trip to the Big Island. The short of the very long and gross story is that he could not get his leg wet because of a puncture wound nearly to his shin bone. It was an open wound and still had not closed almost a month later. (That story is super gory and I will only tell it if you make me. Plus, it's not like I am behind in my blogging, right?!? The short version, is that his doctor, along with another orthopedic surgeon agreed he risked having his leg amputated since he waited to seek treatment for a few days after the accident. It became infected from the inside of his body out. Ewww!!)

Even though it was just the boys and me in the water, and I was sporting my 32 week bump, I was amazed that both boys were so independent on the water slides. Handling the two boys alone and pregnant in the pool was not nearly as difficult as I imagined. Really, my feelings were not hurt that they preferred one another to me. Okay, maybe I was a little shocked for a minute. I felt a little guilty treading water in the pool while they slid down the slide, dumped into the pool, and swam to the edge over and over. My two little fish loved swimming away from me. I suppose they thought that was funny. This is the water slide at our vacation ownership resort. Hubs took pictures with his camera.
We also are allowed to use the hotel resort next door. Now here is the thing I loved the most. Had I been at a water park, I am sure I would have been banned from the water slides because of my "health condition." But at the resort it did not matter that I was very pregnant! Can you spot the boys behind me? Too bad you can't see me in this suit standing up. In three pregnancies this is my absolute favorite maternity suit!
The OTHER thing we did at the properties was attend a presentation to buy more vacation ownership. I purposely am not mentioning where we own because this is the one and only time we had a not so pleasant experience. Generally the pitch to owners is a no pressure sale, because they believe their hotel brand sells itself. And it does. The presentation usually goes like this: They say, "So you don't want to spend money today. Any questions? GREAT. Here is your check for $100. Bye. Enjoy your time here." Or something to that effect. That did not happen this time.

I made the mistake of telling the egomaniac with a smile I was not going to leave without my $100. Ugh. I think he took that as a challenge. He brought my kids legos. He brought them snacks. He tried to get them to watch a movie. He offered to buy us dinner. He told us we deserved this. He questioned our judgment and logic when we said no. And I felt trapped. So I had to spring us from this guy's office.

A little known fact is that I finished half an economics degree in college before I changed my major (long story, but I wanted to graduate fast, instead). I still read Forbes. I still follow economic trends, and I like to weigh opportunity costs. So I launched into an incredible diatribe on the state of our economy, the evolution of the American mentality of entitlement, and how we must be more judicious in our economic choices in the state of our current economic crisis. But what I said was much more involved, intelligent, articulate and beautiful, all while I snapped legos together, passed out snacks, and tried to keep peace on the floor of his office. I watched as he sat in his comfy ergonomic chair shifting back and forth, but I kept going. A slow smile spread across Hubs' face when I finished and I knew I made him proud. The egomaniac did not have much of a come back and finally fetched our $100. He made some snide remarks at me as he filled out the voucher. And because I am sinful and I need Jesus, I used some of his wording from his sales pitch with an edge to my voice as a retort. He dramatically looked at me and told me it was a good thing he had thick skin. I held my tongue and said nothing to him about how I spent a good chunk of time on the floor of his office pregnant, with my children, while he rocked in his ergonomic chair.

ANYWAY.

We took our voucher.
I dressed my men alike for dinner.
We rode the shuttle to the resort.
We hopped on the tram that wraps through the resort,
and landed ourselves at this restaurant where I vowed never to take my little people on many previous visits.

And honestly, I became that American with a sense of entitlement WITH a $100 voucher for dinner. So to the people that gave us some stink eye because of my little people, I did not see you. I was too busy sharing a sunset with my family.Son1 has had a thing for Japan since he was three. He was beside himself to go to Imari, a Japanese steakhouse, for dinner. They serve two kinds of dinner, Teppanyaki (grill where you sit around the hot table with some strangers) or Washoku (traditional sit down Japanese dinner.) We opted for Washoku on the fancy side of the restaurant, you know, for the amusement of the other guests. HA! The restaurant folding doors were pushed open, and my kids loved visiting the koi pond in between courses.


And Imari did not disappoint. We made a reservation ahead of time. They had a special table set up for us, and to my surprise, chopsticks prepared for my kids. The chopsticks were wrapped with rubber bands so the kids could participate, and their menus and crayons were placed so carefully at their settings. The restaurant has fountains, waterfalls, and porcelain pieces throughout. It has an elegant minimalist feeling. The waitresses donned traditional black kimonos, and the restaurant bred an aura of serenity. I tried to get the kids to blend and be one with their environment, in other words, be quiet. Whenever we frequent a cloth napkin kind of establishment I try and emphasize the whole "fancy restaurant" thing with the kids. Now this place was a double whammy because on top of cloth napkins they also received steaming white wash cloths. They were a bit confused by bath time at the dinner table, but at least followed suit.

For dinner, I had a China Mist passion fruit iced tea...
...and some scrumptious scallops. Why bother with an appetizer when I could not eat anything raw?
So instead, I behaved, did not indulge, and watched Hubs feast on his appetizer including my absolute fave...sashimi.
He had himself a bento box, except Son2 monopolized his hot and sour soup.

Now you don't think we took all of these pictures with a camera phone, do you? No! Hubs and Son1 took a special field trip to Costco and got us a nice little point and shoot Canon for the rest of the trip! Son1 kept checking to make sure I used the wrist strap and wasn't going to let us have another sad day. Because when a man loves a woman...well, you read my last post.

Crocodile Tears at Kilauea Iki Trail and Thurston Lava Tube

This day did not turn out as planned. It was the saddest day of our whole trip to Hawaii. I sobbed and heaved and blubbered. The day started so well.

We stayed on the Kona coast of the Big Island, known for it's crystal blue calm waters and coffee country. With Hubby's leg wound not healed (more to come later) we opted for a land day on the Hilo side of the island, two hours away. We traveled the drier south side to the Kona Mountain Coffee Company. They produce 100% Kona Coffee. This is a big deal, because some companies only serve 10% Kona coffee. I learn more about coffee all of the time. I am SO SAD that I am not a coffee drinker. I missed out on a whole lot of Kona coffee drinking when we lived in Hawaii. Our church served Kona coffee every Sunday and I may have indulged once, just to say I did.

At the store, Hubs purchased green unroasted Kona coffee beans. You roast them just before you brew coffee.This was news to me. I knew nothing about green coffee beans. In the Kona coffee grading system they are extra fancy, the largest and nearly perfect beans. And they are spendier! He also chose a coconut mocha Kona coffee which is 100% Kona coffee mixed with macadamia nut and coconut and a few others including a chocolate raspberry. And even though I am not a coffee drinker, Hubs monitors my caffeine intake lately. (READ: Almost eliminated it entirely regardless of my cravings.) So he sweetly surprised me with a bag of chocolate covered peaberries, high in caffeine! I ate a handful and all of a sudden my head relaxed with a familiar caffeine buzz. A Wal Mart stop and lunch drive through later, we were finally on the two lane highway to Hilo!

We arrived at the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park shortly after 4pm. This was one of the only things on Son1's TO DO list. He remembered his time at Thurston Lave Tube with our family and Gradma T., and was intent on walking through the cave. Just before the bend in the road to Thurston Lava Tube is the Kilauea Iki entrance. So we made an unexpected stop and jumped out. Our plan was just to take a picture from the rim of the collapsed crater. But as we peered over the edge we spied a handful of people walking across the crater. I was positive this was the four mile hike our friends Kevin and Sarah once made across the collapsed crater.
We checked the trail guide, and sure enough, this was it! So Hubs and I stood there and we pondered the hike. We knew Son1 could easily make the four mile hike. He had walked that far over the Coronado Bridge. But the trail was not stroller friendly, and this time our two year old was in tow. We had some bottles of water and some cashews and chocolates to hold the kids over until dinner. We hemmed and hawed long enough and finally called Kevin and Sarah on the east coast hoping not to wake them. Did they think our kids could make the trip? They don't have kids yet, but they do know and love our kids. We trusted their judgment, and they said to go for it. By the time we packed our stuff, and hit the trail it was nearly 5pm.The trail was dense and thick and jungly. The ground was moist and the mosquitoes were awake. Parts of the trail were steep downhills and some were steep uphills. The jungle canopy shaded the trail so well, and blocked out much sunlight. It was all beautiful, and I made many stops with Son1 to take pictures of all the beauty around us.The trail is a 450 foot drop from a rich sea of green rain forest into a dry and desolate volcanic crater. Hubs quickly decided to hoist Son2 on his shoulders while Son1 and I brought up the rear. Hubs and Son2 walked ahead and kept up with the momentum of a down hill trail. Son1 and I talked about the vegetation, the insects we heard, and the birds we saw. I took so many beautiful pictures of him, of all that we saw, and Hubs and Son2 along the trail. In so many ways I could not believe that we were back again, just six months after we had moved from Hawaii. All of the thick and tall trees, the smells of the rain forest, the sounds of the birds and insects, I took it all in. I loved it differently than I had loved it before, because this time, I knew I could only enjoy this beauty for a few days. Son1 and I talked about saving, and I reminded him that to come on special trips like this we needed to to save money. We talked about spending less money on McD0na1d*s, and what it means to save money.

My thoughts wandered to my three pregnancies. When I was pregnant with Son1 and living in VA Hubs spoke at a conference in Hawaii. I tagged along, and made the long 13 hour flight, pregnant with Son1. I had no inkling we would move to Hawaii just a year later. Then I thought about how my second child was born in Hawaii, and how our third child was just teeny tiny in my womb when we left. And so I had all of these mushy emotional pregnancy thoughts, how I have spent part of all three of my pregnancies here. I watched as my eldest flew down the trail so easily in front of me, in his laced up tennis shoes, how I never thought a day like this would come four years ago. I thought he would be in velcro shoes forever. I listened as he shouted, "C'mon Mommy; we have to catch up! I can't see Daddy and brother any more!! Stop taking pictures Mommy! We have to get to the crater!" Sometimes we stopped long enough to touch and talk about the plants, trees, and the exposed roots.

And I snuck more pictures.

We talked about the cooling lava, and the rich soil, and the new growth. We talked about God, and all that He created, and all that we delighted in seeing, hearing, and touching.

And I took more pictures.

I took some awesome pictures of my big boy's sweet smile, of his excitement, of his understanding of all that was around. I took pictures of my husband, and captured the moments of him loving the minutes with our little toddler, helping him climb over the carved out trail in a most protective way, sometimes with the little boy perched on his shoulders. They were pictures of the little boy who was turning into a little boy, and would soon not be the baby in the family. More pictures, and Hubs told me we just had to hurry. He was sure I had taken a whole mess of pictures already. He was right. I easily took close to 100 shots . The light was disappearing from the trail. Both of the kids had tripped. We realized that we would need to turn back at the crater floor, for a 2.5 mile round trip. We would not cross the crater.

Soon enough we reached the crater floor. A few people looked at my well formed belly, just 8 weeks from my due date, and cautioned me to be very careful. The lava rock was crumbly and loose and they were struggling to climb up the trail. I promised I would be super careful. Finally our feet hit the floor of the crater, and I asked Hubs to let me take a few pictures. The landscape was so different at the floor! The crater collapsed in 1959 after a red lava lake spewed and formed after 1,000 earthquakes. It took 36 years to cool. And it is still cooling. In the distance we could see steam vents from the ground. I zoomed in and took some beautiful shots. I must tell you that none of these shots in this post are mine. Not even this one, of the ohi' a lehua, one of the first plants to form in the rich lava soil after it cools.
This a view of the new rock that forms after lava cools.
In the distance you can spot some of the steam across the rest of the trail.At this point, we knew it was still over a mile back to the trail head. The sun was setting already, and the trail is not lit at all. We all agreed it was time to go. I handed Hubs my camera, and asked him to take a few shots of me and of the kids. He promised he took a handful of great shots, and we should start back. But I asked him to take one more with the timer, one more of our entire family. I explicitly made a point of telling him "of our family of five." I smoothed my kids' hair, wiped sweat beads from my forehead, and we positioned ourselves. We did not have a tripod. In the vast open space, Hubs found a little rock lava sculpture. He grabbed more lava rocks from the floor of the crater, and lodged the camera into a precarious position, guaranteeing me the camera would be fine. He set the timer, and we took a few pictures this way. But when the very last shot finished, he grabbed the camera, played back the digital image, and we all were absolutely amazed. There we were, dressed in bright blue against the dark black lava rock with the rain forest towering along the crater rim. The picture captured the landscape behind us so clearly, and our family so crisply, our family of FIVE. I praised him for such a great shot, and I told him I could not wait until Son3 could one day see this picture. I wore a smile all the way back up the trail, because that picture could not have been any better. The boys were smiling, and Son1 wore a sense of accomplishment. Hubs and I agreed that this hike was one of the highlights with our boys thus far in the life of our family. We enjoyed the hike all the way back. Finally, we arrived at the trail head, a little tired, 2.5 miles later. We were so proud of both boys, shocked that even our two year old hoofed the majority of the trail back to the parking lot on his own two feet.

Hubs loaded the kids back in the car, and I snapped a few more pictures of the early evening over Kilauea Iki. Hubs asked if we should still make the short jaunt through Thurston Lava Tube. The entrance was just across Crater Rim Drive. The sunlight was definitely escaping us. But the dusk was enough light to make the short hike. Yes, we all agreed we wanted to make the short beautiful hike. We even had a little family cheer. YAAAAYYYY!!!!!

We found parking. We crossed the street. We stood at the overlook at the entrance to the lava tube. I tried to get a good shot of the top of the canopy, but I thought Hubs could get a better shot leaning over the rail.

I asked him to take the picture.

I extended my arm to him with the camera.

I let go before the camera met his hand.

And it slipped over the rail and bounced off the top of the canopy of trees.

It tumbled.

We heard it go deep, deep, deep down.

And Hubs looked at me ready to say something.

And I burst into tears.

And he said nothing.

Very determined, he suggested we look for it. Quietly we descended into the tube. We rounded the bend closest to the probable landing spot, still no less than 30 feet from the trail. Below the canopies of the ferns and trees several stories in the air, the darkness started to settle in for the evening. A folding sign blocked an entrance to where we needed to cross. It warned not to enter, it warned of danger. Hubs picked the sign up and crossed into the slippery green floor. It was muddy from recent rain. I kept hushing an inquisitive Son1. He looked at me and said,

"Mommy, is Daddy doing a bad thing??"

And the words tumbled from my heart. I looked into his sincere eyes and said, "When a man loves a woman, he will do crazy things." He was strangely satisfied, and repeated that phrase all night, and through the week. In fact, he is still saying it in San Diego.

Hubs never found the camera. I cried the rest of the night. He bought me a steak dinner that could not fix my heart. He offered to buy me another camera that could not bring back my SD card. He listened to me cry for two hours back to Kona about that one picture, the picture of our family of five. I was not angry. I was feeling so sad. I heaved. I blubbered. I thanked him for showing me the picture on the screen, the one I would hold in my heart. That man has a heart of gold. He understood me even if he did not understand.

A pleading phone call from my emotional pregnant heart to the park ranger led to a rescue mission two days later. At that moment all I wanted was my SD card. I did not care if the camera was shattered. All I wanted was that one picture, the one I saw on the playback screen. The amazing folks from the park sent four workers deep into the bowels of the tube to look for my camera with no such luck. I was told that they searched for half a day. They found many other lost items, though. The emergency dispatcher said my camera probably slipped through a crevice and plummeted over a hundred feet below the ground.

So there is no picture of that day. That is OK. But if there is one thing I hope that the boys learned that day from their daddy, is that if a man loves a woman, he will do crazy things for her. I hope they learned from their daddy to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry. Their wives will thank them one day.

Sick!!!

An unexpected illness took a firm grip over my 61 inch frame.

A horrible case of the stomach virus attacked me. LITERALLY for five days.

I saw my practitioner. She told me to hydrate and take an over the counter medication.

I did not hydrate.

The contractions started.

I called the doctor's office when the contractions multiplied the next day.

I called Hubs to come home before I called the doctor.

I knew I was in for it.

My kids knew something was very, very wrong.

They were dolls.

Who knew the 4 year old could make meals?

The triage obstetrical nurse said I wasn't having "enough" contractions in an hour.

She told me to drink MORE water.

I told her I could not.

She wanted to know WHY I could not.

Liquids made me more nauseous.

I started to cry. I told her I was never this irrational about liquid.

She gently shook me through the phone and told me I had no choice.

Six contractions in an hour and it was hospital time.

NO!

She told me the hospital would only give me IV fluid and put me on monitors anyway, and maybe just give me a touch of medication and send me home.

"Angry Booty" (an Usherism) is not pregnancy related, yet going around pregnant women now.

I was still in painful tears when we hung up.

Hubs came home and catered to the kids and to me.

Six contractions in an hour came. He held my hand. I drank more water.

Six contractions in twenty minutes came. I refused to hear about the hospital.

I drank more water.

I drank more water.

I drank more water.

Six hours later the contractions subsided.

I drank more water.

I was sweaty all night.

I drank more water.

I could not pee. There was nothing to waste.

I drank more water.

Hubs went into the office for a few hours the next morning.

I drank G2. It literally saved my life.

It was salty and sweet from beginning to end. I did not like it at first.

The water was not enough, though. I needed more salt to retain liquid.

I drank more G2.

I drank more G2.

I drank more G2.

Hubs was home again. He did not let me move one inch.

I slept several hours.

I drank more G2.

I drank more water, too.

Stomach virus was still in full swing.

I stood up only *to go*.

Hubs disappeared with my kids.

I slept more hours.

I was sweaty for more hours. It all came out my pores.

I drank more water. I drank more G2.

Two days later, I felt my stomach relax from knots.

It had now lasted Sunday to Sunday.

Today is Tuesday.

I am good, thank the Lord.

Read more about the rest of the Hawaiian adventure here soon.

Big Rock Fever

When we lived in Hawaii people NOT from Hawaii always asked if we ever got rock fever. And my answer was always a horrified "NO!" I generally stayed in the state except for one trip back to California a year. On holiday weekends and during some holidays we traveled to the neighbor islands. Each island is so vastly different that I never felt whatever people refer to as "rock fever." However, after living on the Big Rock (what local people in Hawaii call the lower 48) for just under six months, Hubs, myself, and Son1 all had Big Rock Fever. Um, and why yes, that is a Farmerism. We missed the culture of aloha the most as well as local food. It was time. We had to get off the Big Rock. So with time share points expiring this year, and a hunk of frequent flyer miles, the four Farmers arrived at the airport two hours after dropping off Vitafamiliae. The total flight time before us was seven hours, with an additional 3 hour layover in SF. That is 10 hours of travel time! From San Diego to San Fransisco the kids sat with Hubs. And they were the quietest kids ever. Yes, I was jealous. They always give him the royal treatment. Humph!!!

We never mind layovers in San Fransisco, because we always score the same terminal. I have no idea what it is called, but it is the one with the kids play area and the food court. By far, our favorite stop is called Just Desserts. They are a local SF company that bakes premium desserts from scratch with no trans fats. The desserts are all natural. They do not use any artificial flavors, colors or preservatives, bleached flour, or hydrogenated shortenings. The dessert on the left is mine, which was a marble mousse, and Hubs had a mango mousse cake. Those sweet children of ours did not even ask for a bite! We swallowed these after our mondo Mexican food lunch.
Three hours later we boarded the flight to Kona, Hawaii. Kona is on the "Big Island." All of the other seven main Hawaiian islands could fit inside the Big Island. It is Son1's favorite island, and he was crazy excited to fly back to Hawaii. Son1 and I had a row to ourselves and Son2 and Hubs sat in the row across from us in their own row.
The seating arrangement was just fine with me. Son2 is our more active and vocal child. Let's just say he doesn't do his best in confined spaces. About 10 minutes into the flight I peered over Hubs and saw this:
I asked Hubs how he accomplished to do that. He just smiled a cocky smile at me and said, "I am the Son2 Whisperer. I just told him to lay down and go to sleep." Well, Daddy-O have I told you how happy I am you are on this trip?!? He just shook his head at me, pulled out a charged ipod and the rest of the flight went like this...for just over 5 hours folks.
We landed in Hawaii, and after two hours of calling every rental company to find where we reserved our rental car, we finally made it to Costco one minute before they closed for the essentials. And of course, that included a macadamia nut pie for me. ALL ME. Aloha y'all.