Suzapalooza 2013, the story

Suzapalooza this year was the best yet. The entire weekend was jam packed fun.  Patti and Dwight got their speed boat out of its six year hibernation and had it up and running for the weekend.  Its arrival at the dock was met with enthusiastic jumping up and down. 

 

Sandi and her two sisters are tubing superstars.  They literally spent entire days of their youth tubing away summer days on the lake.  They like to tube fast and furious and the competition, not with each other but with the tube and the waves and perhaps their parents circling the lake trying to throw them, is intense. 

I think I have been tubing twice in my life and that was probably close to 20 years ago.  I made sure to have my first ride be with the eight and four year old.  It was a rather sleepy affair and a perfect primer.

This was the first time the Carvers had used this quad tube and while we were slowing down for our return to the dock we quickly learned what precautions needed to be taken to account for the wide bottom base.  As the boat let up and we were remained lying down, the water soon came flooding over the front of the raft and the tossed us all very unsuspecting into the lake.  Ella got really freaked because when she tried to come up the raft was over her head momentarily.  Makenna took it in stride but later said to her mother, "I guess that was fun.  Except the part when we went under the water."



Tubing practice over, it was time for the real party to begin.  To quote Beckett: "Happy Ooza-pa-ooza!"

It was so fun to have so many people I love come to celebrate with a day on the lake!

(Now, lots of these pics will be duplicates from the video but I really wanted to have them just to keep here on the blog-unlike a video that isn't printable- and also to tell the story of the day. Plus, for me pictures such as these could never be redundant.)

 

 

 

 

 

In case you don't believe me about the kind of tubing that Sandi and her sisters do let me show you.  This, my friends, is the kind of standard the inexperienced such as myself are up against.



Tough chicks go tubing.

So when Trish suggested that she and Brock and Sandi and I ride the quad I thought, how bad can it be on that giant thing that Sandi almost took a nap on?

I was TERRIFIED.  Not that you can tell. 

 

Then it was time for tubing school.  Brady and Brevan handled the tubing simulation station (rowing the quad out and then quickly pulling it in on the rope toward the dock) for anyone who wanted to get a real-life feel for being pulled behind the boat.

While Sandi gave some basic instruction on how to get going without getting a face full of water.  (Note: she is not a real teacher.  She is holding a beer in her hand, afterall.)

 

I was super proud of Ella for getting back on the tube.  She thought this would be a better fit to be on her own tube with us on either side.  She did a great job until she hit the wake sideways and went out over the front of the tube...She was crying and it was very painful for everyone. 



But she got back on that horse!





Trish, Grace, Mikayla and Alex had a blast!


I want to say how proud I am of others like me who were a little scared and went for it anyway.  Kim was another brave soul.  Because she and Kristi were running the quad for the two little ones in the middle, we gave her very specific instructions on the severe rear lean required to not dump the tube as it came to the dock. 

Kim did such an incredible job with this that we decided to coin a term for the lean.  It is called to "Kim it." Used in a sentence: When the boat slows down, you must Kim it or end up in the lake.

We did some tubing with Sandi's cousin, Katie, outside of the party and the pictures are just too good not to share. Again, my hats off to the fearful.

 

 

Such a cool day on the lake.

 

 

I started to take a picture of this bird, assuming it to be a loon and Kristi said, "Oh that is just a shag."  This is some sort of sub-level bird, I guess.  I began to click wildly and say, "A shag! A shag!" as though it were just what I wanted to photograph.  Later, I told Sandi I had seen a skank and thought it was a loon and she was like, "You mean a shag?"  Apparently I need to go to remedial avian class.




This is just the way Maya likes to wear her life jacket. There is no convincing her otherwise.



A sea plane even landed!

 

 

 

I began to notice a pattern in myself.  The tubing was frightening and fun but I was so preoccupied with the children that I had a hard time enjoying the fun since I was so frightened.  When we went in this conglomeration- Ange and I with all these kiddos, I found myself so worried about Kaylee who looked impossibly small to my right and Ella who was way over next to Ange.  My head was on a swivel of worry, accounting for each child in turn and then starting again at the top of the roster.  I was a ball of nerves.  When you get thrown from a tube you hit the water hard and, even though I planned to jump off if one of them went in, I was still worried about how scary it would be.

 

They were too busy screeching and shreiking to worry, however.

 

I was pleased each and every time we returned safely.

Ange, Kristi and Billy took a group of kids and then a fellow boater ran out of gas and they got ditched in the lake for a while...

And then they finally got going again and the boat broke down.  Poor Billy didn't have a suit and was wearing his shorts in the water an extended period.  They had a major freakus getting to camp and so it was late in the day by the time they arrived. There was no drying off for him. 

Dwight decided he was going to get Billy tubing and he took him for a real ride once the boat was up and going again. 

And you know you want it...here are some wipeout pics. 



Kristi, flat on her back skidding along the surface of the water.



And me, plugging my nose. (It wasn't my fault, the tube flipped over.)

 

The dock jumping contest, which is well highlighted in the video, was overshadowed a bit by the fun of tubing.  I'm all for fun being replaced by fun.  We did have several categories with prizes and Kim was once agian our illustrious judge.  I was so proud of the kiddos for their jumps!

 

I have to tell you that, finally, when I had tubed so much I could barely hold on anymore my arms were so sore, I got a feel for it. I could let go and not worry so much. I began to ride the waves better and understand how to maneuver my tube. I even smiled.

I also got a tiny bit of air.

 

 

But then to look back at the pictures, I still know I played it pretty safe...(This picture is HILARIOUS to me.)

 

Ange made me the most amazing birthday cakes! As in two! Peanut butter chocolate and coconut.  I mean, for real.  They were beyond divine.

 

I was so sore the few days following all the tubing I felt like I had been in a car accident.  I may have actually sustained some whip-lash like injuries.  I've never had so much fun from pain.  I felt so blessed and love to share this wonderful, happy day with so many of the people I love!

A special thank you to Sandi, Ange and Patti for all they did to make it what it was for me! 

 

to celebrate...

I am not at all ashamed to admit that I love my birthday.  Having a summer birthday always means a chance to do something really fun and celebrate.  This past weekend, our last one at camp, we had our somethingth- annual (maybe 4th annual?) Suzapalooza birthday party which was such fun! (I have a ton of pictures to pour through so a post on that will come later.) 

 

But on my real birthday, Ange and I took the kiddos to Sand Beach near Bar Harbor.  We go here every year (usually with Emilie too but she was unavailable) and we hadn't yet made our annual pilgrimage so this was a perfect opportunity. 

 

We like to park in the secret back lot to Sand Beach that saves you entrance through the Acadia National Park gate and a $20 fee.  Turns out the lot is not as secret as I thought.  Chocked full of out-of-state plates (what locals are giving out this secret I ask?) there were no "designated" spots by 10:30 in the morning.  There are an abundance of "NO PARKING ALONG THE ROADWAY" adjacent to the lot.  However, there was no sign for the crushed rock shoulder of the parking lot....After much debate and some creative mini-van maneuvering, we decided to park in an unauthorized way. 

 

The kids are old enough to carry some of their own stuff in backpacks for the 1/2 mile hike down to the beach!

 

Sand beaches are a rarity in Maine (although you wouldn't know it from this blog where most pictures of beaches are sand- we are just very picky) and Sand Beach is a popular spot for locals and tourists alike.  We got lucky and it was sunny, hazy and hot.

Ange and I have kids that have no idea how lucky they are and actually say things (much to our dismay) like, "I can't believe we haven't even been to Sand Beach this year!" even though they have been swimming in pools and at beaches all summer. 

 

But, in their defense, Sand Beach is just plain awesome.

 

 

The kids were super cooperative with being photographed with their moms.



 There was a sail boat regatta off in the distance.  At one point I counted 17 boats, several with their colorful spinnaker sails out.  As I was explaining to the kids what a spinnaker sail is and what kind of wind you use it for, Ange informed me that there is a southern Maine brewery that makes a really good beer named Spinnaker.  We come from different places, Ange and I, but we love each other just the same.

I even got a spa pedicure on my birthday.

 

 

When we got back to the car and were rearranging our bags, a park ranger pulled up alongside and asked if we were coming or going.  We told him we were going.  He told us we aren't allowed to park where we did and that we can harm the natural resources by not parking in the designated spots.  I mumbled an apology and Ange said, "Oh, you're right" to him and we felt badly for wanting to save 20 bucks.  He did not ticket us even though it looked like he was ticketing other illegally parked cars (who were actively harming the vegetation, I might add, rather than the crushed rock).

 

On the way into Ellsworth we stopped to use the bathroom at a Citgo station before I dropped Ange and the kids at their car.  I put the car in park and spun around to try to cajole Maya into coming in to pee.  At least I thought I put the car in park.  We began to roll toward the convenience store building a mere 5 feet in front of us.  Ange began making spastic movements and halted vocalizations to get my attention and then spat out, "The car is moving!!" I quickly put it in park and she exhaled noisily saying, "We were almost the people who drive into the Citgo station..."

 

After dropping them off, I had to drive a round about route home to get our farm share.  As I pulled out of the crowded downtown of Ellsworth, I sort of gunned it up the hill on the outskirts of town. 

 

And saw a cop. 

 

I slammed on my breaks but it was too late.  I saw the blue lights and pulled right over.  Yes, I was going to get a speeding ticket on my birthday.

 

When he came to my window I handed him all my stuff and apologized. He told me I was going 50 in a 25.  I told him that I had no idea the speed limit was so low out of town, which was the honest truth.   He went back to his car and I willed myself not to cry.  After all, a ticket is just a ticket.  I did not tell him it was my birthday.

 

He came back very soon, looked at me sternly like he was the principal and I had just spray painted expletives on the gym wall, and said, "I'm going to give you the best birthday present you're going to get.  I'm going to give you a warning.  But that doesn't mean you should be driving so fast."  I thanked him, all but told him how deeply ashamed I was (I had my kids in the back seat after all) and went very slowly on my way. 

 

I guess you could say I didn't have a great driving day.  Not one, but two traffic violation warnings AND a near miss as headline news with a crashed mini-van full of kids through a gas station window.  But all in all, talk about lucky...

I couldn't wait to see Sandi when we got home.  It is very weird to not be with her on my birthday.  The four of us had a lovely dinner on the Sea Dog deck.  

When we pulled in our driveway our friend Kim was coming to drop some stuff off for me.  It was a wonderful close to a wonderful day to get hugs and laughs with Kim.  She has the most contagious laugh and smile of anyone I have ever met.  She had a bag full of little things I love, including Little Lads Herbal Popcorn.  As I took the stuff out and placed it on the table, Ella came up and read the package and asked, very confused, "What is hair ball corn?"

 

I laughed myself almost to pieces.  I'm still laughing as I write this. But not as hard as I laughed when just a few moments later, Sandi took me over her knee very unexpectedly (and while I was still holding a bunch of carrots from unpacking the farm share) and let the girls give me 37 birthday spankings.  With those mighty hands swatting my bum and the greens of the carrots tickling my face, my whole body shook with uncontrollable laughter. 

 

In other words, a really, really good day.

on my birthday

As I wake in the black dark of 4 A.M. on my 37th birthday, I am struck with a brilliant clarity that I will struggle to organize in some coherent way before I hear little feet thumping overhead.

In my early days as a mom, and even still sometimes, I often felt caught off guard that I actually was a mom.  I would be in the bathroom stall and Target and one of my girls say, "Mom?" and then tell me a story or ask me a wildly inappropriate question in the polite silence of the public restroom.  I would be initially baffled, thinking how did I become someone's mother?  How is it that I am responsible for the safety, shaping and care of two individuals other than myself?

Sometimes I would have to talk myself out of calling Sandi and saying, "You really should come pick these kids up right away.  I'm not sure I know how to do this."

In her book, Broken Open, Elizabeth Lesser talks about the phoenix process which is an idea of personal transformation based on the mythical phoenix bird: the old burns and from the ashes the new emerges.  It can be used to describe many aspects of living.  Lesser talks about how parenting itself is the ultimate phoenix process wherein your heart is continually broken open and new ways of living and loving pour in. 

As I wake up this morning, I sit with tender acceptance of my life being one big phoenix process with parenting being at the very center.

I think I came into the world a naturally happy person but life made its mark on me very early on.  I have spent much of my adulthood trying to negotiate the joyful nature of my being with the scars that I carry.  From day to day, I don't know how to be loyal to each without feeling ripped down the middle.  It probably sounds ridiculous to be loyal to suffering, but if you have ever suffered, you will know what I mean.  It is sort of like being devoted to your family even though they might make you crazy.

Often lately I stand squarely in the middle of my life, my heart open and unguarded, and I am utterly overwhelmed at the arresting beauty and the exquisite pain of being alive and loving other people.  I can see how I have built protective walls around myself to live, but remain slightly apart from, the deepest connections in this life.  I ache for all that I have missed while I've been busy guarding my heart: all the moments I didn't fully take in because my mind was on the future or my body was rushing around.  I grieve for all I missed, even though I was right there, of the girls' youngest years because I was so afraid of being their mom and getting it wrong.  I was unnerved by the deep and abiding love I had for them that made me feel weak and vulnerable. 

It is hard for me to accept how many times in my life the scars of my old hurts have been the lense through which I have looked.  Missing moments of connection by instead feeling isolation or exclusion have marked far too many of my close relationships.  It is as if I was unwittingly wearing an old pair of filthy glasses that made it impossible for me to see clearly.

This past year has been one of the most transformative of my life.   I have taken off the old glasses.  I have learned how to value the weight of what is in my heart, rather than the weight on the scale.  I have begun to accept the rawness of living a whole life and step into the bare spots where pain is present, rather than trying to circumvent it. I have begun to listen to myself and regard my own wisdom and knowing.

This year I have woken up to myself.  I have come home to myself.   And in so doing, I have arrived more fully in my life and in all my relationships.

I look at my children, the very ones I am not always sure I deserve, and remind myself that the most important thing I can do is love them.  I don't have to have the right parenting strategies or always feed them perfectly. I have to simply remain open and incredibly brave as I let the process of loving them smooth away my rough edges the way the tumbling tide makes sea glass out of broken shards. 

I can fully open my heart to my family and the experience of being alive even though I cannot control the unfolding of any of it.  I will grow old and die. My children will grow up and move on.  I will lose people I love.  My body will change.  These are not maybes they are certainties.  It is time to accept this and get in the ring anyway. 

I am grateful to be 37 today.  I am grateful to be a mom and to have been broken open by it. I am filled to overflowing with the love I have with Sandi and the amazing life we have created together.  I am forever changed by so many of the people I love and who love me.  Life is hard, painful, frightening.  It is also staggeringly beautiful, perfectly balanced and miraculous.  I finally understand this and no longer pretend it is different.

I don't want to waste one more precious second of this life worried about what I look like, how accomplished I am or what others think of me.  I want to stand with arms wide, my heart open and allow life to wash over me.

baby bunnies and (hopefully not yet) puppies

Eight weeks ago Kristi had bunnies.  Well, she herself didn't have the bunnies, her bunny did of course.  I don't know if you've ever seen a baby bunny, but there isn't anything much cuter.  (Except of course when you see your child for the first time and it doesn't matter how bruised and swollen that baby is, there has never been anything cuter ever in the world- other than her sister.)

 

Sadly, our six-year-old bunny died at the start of summer. We had a bunny funeral complete with commemorative rock and flowers.  All that was mising was a rendition of Taps and that is only because none of us own or know how to operate a trumpet.  It was a very grown-up moment for our girls and they handled it with surprising grace. 

 

And then there were baby bunnies in the family.

 

To back up for a moment, let me insert that there has been some pressure from my family to get a dog for a while now- specifically a puppy.  I have been the firm heel-dragger, certain that having one more living thing to care for would tip my precarious scales over the edge and someone would find me hanging by my fingernails over the Cliffs of Insanity (for any Princess Bride lovers out there.)   Perhaps I exaggerate slightly but we are in month 24 of 27 of Sandi's schooling and I knew the math of dog acquisition:  puppy = Suzanne's lobotomy.

 

Oh, but I could feel the the pleading eyes of Ella and the murmurs of "I just really want a pet of my own" wearing me down.  No one wants to be bullied into getting a dog but no one wants to be given a sob story every morning over her tea either. 

 

I have set the firm line that we would not get a dog while Sandi is in school.  Naturally, the girls think this means we will be picking one home on the way home from graduation in November. 

 

While I regret the possibly premature death of our pet bunny, I have to say the timing of the baby bunny has bought me some extra time.  Everyone is talking about lop ears and I have heard nary a whisper about a puppy.  Phew.

 

It was a no-brainer which bunny we wanted from the liter.  Other than one that was spoken for there were solid black ones and this cutie patotie:

She looks just like her father (Finnigan) and Kristi had nicknamed her Mini Finni.  Ella has since named her Cinnamon, but in true Carver fashion, nicknames are plentiful and quick to stick: Cinna-minifini was born.

Apparently she really likes hay.

Kristi's bunnies are likely the most beloved bunnies on the planet and this one is no exception.  They get to run free every day and are handled heartily by my niece and nephew.  If you get one of these bunnies, it is like it has been through a bunny bootcamp of sorts and you likely couldn't find more tame bunnies anywhere.  Cinnamon never bites or protests and is so laid back we were initially concerned something might be wrong with her.  But alas, she was just made for the wilds of our house. 

We brought her home from Schoodic with us and now can't imagine life without her.  She is incredibly interactive and if you walk by her cage without speaking to her or petting her, she stands up on her hind legs and peers at you expectantly.  She runs, supervised, all through the living room and runs and darts around.  She even "binkys", a term I just learned that means when a bunny jumps in the air with a pivot and their legs twitch in different directions.



bunny bath
 

I was loving up my Cinna-minifini last night and as she snuggled into my neck, I said to Sandi, "This is the perfect pet for me right now." She replied, "What, one that you can love and then return to it's cage?" I said, "Exactly."

(I believe there are two more black baby bunnies for sale if anyone wants one from the best bunny breeder going.)