Yes, our bags are packed and I am gazing for one last time out at the beach. We are all sad to go. I need more time! We need a few more days playing in the surf, soaking up the sun, and digging in the sand. I was only able to hit one mall and we never made it to Waikiki at all.

This can only mean on thing. Next time, I’m coming for three weeks! Yes, that’s the answer! Surely three weeks would be ample time to do all this.

Of course, if I wanted to play it really safe, I could just move here….. Hmmmm. The kids would come no problem. Kevin? Well, I’m sure lots of people maintain long distance marriages, right? He could just send us money each week to fund our beach adventures. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.

I can’t believe I have to leave. Sigh.

Oh my goodness. Where to begin? I suppose the best approach is to start at the very beginning. It’s a very good place to start.

At Hale Pohaku, you wake in the morning to the sound of the surf. The pounding of the waves hitting the beach is a constant background noise. Add in the gentle rustling of the palm leaves as the morning breeze blows in off the ocean. Add to that the spectacular view of the sun rising over the pacific ocean and your morning is set. Now, normally I’m not a morning person but these last few days I’ve noticed that I don’t seem to mind rising early here. Add to it a cup of fresh brewed Kona coffee and some delicious pastries from the local bakery and I’m in heaven.

So after the sun and breakfast, we usually lotion up and head for the beach. Not just any beach, however. Oh no, this beach is a mere 30 feet from our back door and totally secluded. The sand is fine and white. The ocean is a clear turquiose under a robin blue sky that streches as far as the eye can see. The kids are happy jumping in the surf, digging in the sand, and floating in their rings so I can just sit on the beach and drift away. I watch the waves roll in. I watch the clouds drift by. I enjoy the sun on my legs and my shoulders. And then, when it gets too warm, I wade into the ocean and float.

Ah. This is the life.

What is it about the ocean? I could watch it all day. The soothing noise of the waves and the mesmerizing roll of the surf just melts away all my anxiety. I just sit here, at peace under this Hawaiian sun, cooled by the ocean breeze and totally at ease.

I suppose the easiest way to describe this paradise it with the help of a visual aid so here I go.

Down the beach to the left

Up the beach to the right

Straight out from our spot

Prepare for a shock.

Prepared?

OK.

I’m a gloater.

Yes, I know, it’s totally out of character. I’m honey sweet in every other way but for some reason, I just can’t control myself. I have no shame. No sense of decorum. I love to gloat.

I remember freshman year in college, finals week rolled around. Everyone else in my suite had their last final Friday afternoon and were stuck on campus for a whole week waiting for it. Me? I was done Tuesday morning and boy was I annoying. I can still remember the little song I made up to sing to my suffering roomies. Reminicent of Eddie Murphy’s ice cream song, it went something like this.

Today in Monday, and then it’s Tuesday and then I’m going home and you are nah-aught, nay nay nay nay nay. (repeat nay nay chorus until someone hits you with a pillow.)

Needless to say, my little song was not appreciated.

So last night, I had my book group dinner. There we sat around a beautiful table over looking the Lake Oswego lake, sipping our cocktails, and talking shop. And I just couldn’t help myself, I had to gloat. They whole meal, all I could talk about was how hard it was to wait three whole days before I could go to Hawaii. How taxing it was to have to pack all those swimsuits and sun tan lotion. My ongoing internal debate about how many sundresses where enough. And I loved it. My only regret is that I couldn’t remember my gloat song last night.

So ladies, this one is for you.

Today is Thursday, and then it’s Friday, and then I’m in Hawaii, and you are not, nay nay nay nay nay.

Nay nay nay nay nay.

My mcNugget is 4 years old.

Amazing.

I’ll let you in on a little secret, I’m actually very glad to be leaving 3 behind us. I don’t know why people moan about the “terrible 2s”. Give me a 2 yr old any day of the week just please, please, please don’t leave me alone with a 3 yr old! I’m looking forward to the maturity and fun of a 4 yr old.

For example, Leina can pretty much dress herself (with mixed results), use the potty, tuck herself in, get her own food, pick up her toys, and take care of her sister while I sit on the sofa being a bofa. Yeah, this year is looking pretty good.

We had a rocking birthday party in our backyard on Sat. Everyone we loved was there with far too many presents. The kids liked the water fun and I know Leina had a blast. How do I know this? Simple. After the party, I trucked most of her toys up here to the play room. Then, sometime after 8pm, Leina snuck out of her room and found her stash of birthday toys. I found her around 10pm. She had crawled under the guest bed and fallen asleep surrounded by Barbie dolls and stuffed animals. All I could see were her little feet peeking out from under the dust ruffle.

And yes, I did get a picture.

This week, Leina headed off for Zoo camp with her buddy Lauren. Liza picks her up and 8am and I bring them home at noon. But the first morning, Leina crawled into my lap and started crying. She wasn’t too sure about this whole camp thing. She was worried. Worried an animal would eat her. Worried she wouldn’t get a snack. Worried she wouldn’t have any friends. Just worried.

That was Monday.

Today, Leina was outside waiting for Liza at 7:30am fully dressed and ready to hit the camp. She was pacing around, wringing her hands, and asking, “where is that Liza?!?!” I guess she’s ready for preschool this fall after all. And after a few mornings of haning with only one kid, I’m ready for school to start too!

Kevin has returned from San Diego. He and uncle Dan had a true adventure at Comic Con 2007. As I understand it, this involved comemorative posters and scantily clad women wearing leather/pleather. Both Dan and Kevin are a bit fuzzy on the details. Right now we are “discussing’ whether or not Kevin should frame said posters and hang them in plain sight around our house. Kevin is all for framing. I, however, suggested we purchase an archival quality poster tube and store them safely rolled up in the garage as they will only increase in value. We’ll see who wins this “discussion”.

After meeting up with Kevin on Sunday, Auntie Bev took us out to dinner at the Kennedy School here in Portland. It was so much fun. Good food, good stories, and such good kids. Leina and Kulia continue to surprise me with their behaviour. They sat and ate and we all enjoyed ourselves. Sure, we spilled a glass of water, there were a few spats over who got the last tater tot, and the phrase “I’m bored” was uttered more than once. But given that they are 4 and 2, I can forgive all that. And we had fun!

I’m thinking I need to readjust my mental stance on my kids. I think it’s time we venture forth with them and try pushing their limits a bit. They constantly amaze me at how ready and amenable they are to adventure. Of course, I have to be prepared for some whining and fussing but that’s ok. I’m just so excited about all the possibilites open before me now that my “babies” are changing into little girls.

Bring on the fun!

OK, I admit it, I’m old. I get that, but still. What is going on with cell phones? Have I totally missed the boat here?

Like 99.9% of this town, I own a cell phone. It’s an old pay-as-you-go phone with no camera or video screen or ability to access the web or play music. Basically, it’s a phone. It makes telephone calls.

Now, I always take my cell phone with me but for whatever reason, I view it as an emergency item. Like the emergency diaper or my AAA card. If I run out of gas, get a flat tire, or need to let someone know I’ll be late, I’ll use my cell phone. But if it’s not a dire situation, I don’t.

I know, I know, I’m old. OK?

But today at the park, I just sat around and stared open mouthed at the number of moms who were on the phone. It was crazy. They were trying to push their child in the swing while ordering transcripts. Helping little ones down the slide while checking account balances. Trying to pick their kid out of the dirt and brush him off while yapping to customer service about an unauthorized charge to their card. I sat their and listened to account numbers and complaints and couldn’t believe my ears. Of course, every few minutes they’d ask the person on the other line to “hold on a sec” while they dealt with their kid but that didn’t seem to phase them. I was most impressed by the two moms who were on the phone, pushing their kids in swings, and conversing with eachother during moments when they were on hold.

It was surreal and so horribly wrong. At least, I thought so. But then again, I was one of two moms not balancing a phone on one shoulder an a toddler in her arms so maybe I’m the abnormality here. I tell you, things are going to hell in a handbasket. Back in my day, phones had cords and you were lucky if you had your own in your room let alone in your purse.

Man, am I old.