Marriage Means a Lot

Indeed, to some marriage is a disposable commodity. Jon and Kate, Britney and K-fed, I could go on...

But to me, marriage means a lot.

The other night, my friend Kim* (*Names changed to protect the innocent) had some people over. There were beers and mixed drinks involved. When we were leaving her house, her intoxication was evident, her children sleeping, and her husband was happy cause he was sure he was getting lucky that night. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. It seems "Kim" had one cosmo too many and her husband spent the evening holding her hair back. Not so lucky after all.

Marriage means always being there for your spouse.

Our laptop, alas, is going to the great Computer Heaven in the sky. I want to be brave and venture into the unknown (but reputable) world of Mac. My beloved wants to go with what we know and get another PC. Nevermind that PCs are virus laden, spyware havens with slow processors and inefficiencies. If I want a Mac, I will get a Mac.

Marriage means compromise.

Before we got married, there was more makeup, less bodily functions, more sleep, less stress, more date nights, less playdates. Now it's... well, you know. Not as romantic of a world.

Marriage means the end of a fantasy.

"To have and told hold, From this day forward, For better or for worse, For richer or poorer, In sickness and in health, 'Til death do us part." (They really do cover it all, don't they?)

Marriage means dealing with the unexpected.

People always say, "You marry the man, you marry his family." This is a serious piece of advice. I will go no further. (Love you guys!)

Marriage means family.

This morning, I woke up. There was a flood on the bathroom counter from someone's shaving (not mine). There were breakfast dishes in the sink (also not mine). The toothpaste tube is on the counter and not in the drawer where it belongs (really, is that such a big request?). It all makes me mad. I guess I have anger issues.

Marriage means always finding it in your heart to forgive.

I met my husband when I was 13. We started dating when I was 16. I have know him more than half my life, and I fancy myself to be a pretty young gal.

Marriage is finding someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. Beware you could live a long time.

~~Writing prompt courtesy of Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop~~

Happy Birthday to Ava (Times Three!)

Today is our niece Ava's very first birthday. To commemorate this momentous occassion is a post about her birthday party, a throwdown that went down on Sunday. Lucky little thing that she is, we sang "Happy Birthday" to her three times (as you will see).

I couldn't get a smile out of her for anything! She's very serious about this birthday business...

The Gang

Eagerly anticipating the next event...

Swinging like the crazy monkeys that they are

Time for cake. But where's the birthday girl?

Here she is, coming in on her sweet wagon ride with her mama

We sang (Happy Birthday serenade #1 for those who are keeping count). Then it was time for Ava to dig in. What came next was a First Birthday first for me (and believe you me, I have been to many a first birthday). As opposed to eating it, Ava prefered to smush smuch smoosh the cake in her hands. Hey, to each their own, right?

(Note that there is none on her face! But she's make a lovely mitten accessory out of the cake.)

Cole of course enjoyed himself thoroughly. I think he begged, borrowed and stole his way to three cupcakes.

Back at the ranch...

After My Gym with the kids, the whole family (all 867,000 of us) decended upon the house for a proper Cuban throwdown. Meat, lots of meat, potato salad, Cuban bread, and a swarm of flies of course.

When it came time for cake, we sang ("Happy Birthday" serenade #2). But Ava's daddy had some trouble locating the video camera, so we had to do an encore for purposes of capturing the memories ("Happy Birthday" serenade #3). She did not complain. But I had serious money down that one of these kids was going to dive straight into the cake if we didn't serve it up soon.

These two little cousins are quite the buddies.

And with that, another one of us is another year older.

It'll probably be another five minutes before I attend another birthday party.

As you can see, we know a lot of kids.

Rey & Chicks + Six: Day Four

Notice there was no "Day Three"?

Seriously, who has time to blog when there are six kids in the house?

P.S. A six pack of children should come with a six pack of the above, kind of a survival kit of sorts.

Rey & Chicks + Six: Day Two

Highlights from the day include:

• A super fun, labor intensive, sand consuming, sun soaking, Bob the Builder eat-your-heart-out trip to the beach
• A proper education on what really happens when a baby eats an undetermined amount of sand
• A minor scare that we'd been robbed, but really it was just a teensy case of forgetfulness
• Someone* falling on his or her ass on the slippery rain soaked garage floor
• A trip to Target (it's always a good day when a trip to Target is involved)
• A super special girls only dinner
• A raucous round of "The Force Game" a.k.a. Light Sabre play that gives me an ulcer.
• Bedtime that didn't involve a million lectures, bribes, threats and that resulted in six sleeping children instead of three giggling ones.

*Names omitted to protect the gravity challenged.

But without further ado, following is what I shall title "The Beach: A Photo Essay"...