a little envy

Sometimes I feel a bit ridiculous because I find myself wishing I could have some of Lily's outfits.

And I've never felt it appropriate to admit that I envy her Crew Cut clad closet until recently. I read that Carol Burnett loved a dress from her youth so much that she had a designer recreate it when she was older.

No, I don't wish I still had the tie dye watermelon sundress (or the crimped hair) from my first grade school picture, but I wouldn't mind owning the navy sailor dress with oversized white buttons.

The most recent Crew Cuts campaign has me itching for some of those outfits. A few of my favorites...




Tie dye and ice cream

I was a horrific softball player when I was little. Between tee ball and softball, I think I gave it three or four good years. Also between the two, I think I hit zero balls. It is not my forte.

This week when I was babysitting, I had the pleasure of going to a first grade softball game.

After a few minutes it became very apparent that almost nothing has changed. The girls still bop around in the outfield, more focused on the cheers (which are the same ones we chanted) than the game, while the father coaches still take it pretty seriously. Everyone still gets a chance to bat and within a few minutes it is clear who will excel (AKA they hit it) and who will most likely follow in my footsteps and choose sports like running and swimming.

However, what has certainly changed are the uniforms. The teams all have different colors of tie dyed shirts with a peace sign, a heart, and a baseball on the front. They also having matching neon socks, which are covered in peace signs. Is the Lions Club producing little hippies? Or are they just in on the tie dye trend this season? And are kids getting cooler at a younger age?
After the game, I continued my time warp when I took Allie and Emma to Dairy Queen. Again, after neglecting DQ for quite a few years, I was shocked at how little has changed: the same red tile, the same visors, the same ability to mess up my order (vanilla with sprinkles...). I also quickly realized that no matter how old I get, nothing says summer bliss like ice cream. And that makes me very happy.

happy

You're driving down I-65, halfway between Louisville and Nashville. In the left lane, you see a large maroon Astro van. On top of the van is a car top carrier, every inch of which is filled with suitcases, Prokadima paddles, rollerblades and sunscreen.

The interior of the van is equally as packed with both people and parcels. The trunk is filled to the brim with an odd combination of fishing gear, Barbies, plastic dinosaurs and snacks.

Behind the driver there is a red cooler, on top of it is a VCR, and on top of it is a white TV, deeper than it is tall. The three pieces are strapped together with a bungie cord (and maybe some duct tape). To the TV, five pairs of eyes are momentarily glued, though it won't last because it's evitable that with five under 10, you can only expect short spans of silence.

What's most surprising about the scenario is that the van is not only in the left lane, but passing most of the other cars on the interstate. This van is on a mission.

This is a journey we've made for more than 20 years: Indiana to Kentucky to Tennessee to Alabama (wave to Florala!) to Florida. And between Sandestin and Rosemary Beach, my family has countless memories. The region truly served as our second home growing up.

Last week, we returned to the Panhandle for a week in Rosemary. Although we arrived two-by-two, at different times, some by car, some by plane, the week lived up to our high expectations.

It was so wonderful for all of us to be together, enjoying the sun, and watching Lily, Finn, and Griff begin to make their memories at the beach. We convinced Lily to try out the ocean, Court and Ash convinced me to re-try a sweet potato (never again), and by the end of the week, we were all convinced that more time together is necessary.
Since our days of the Astro van, we've traded in the car, switched the VCR for an iPod, exchanged long afternoon rollerblades for long walks with the new babies, and of course, kept my dad's fishing gear. But with all of these changes there is no doubt that the area still feels like home, the Donut Hole still has the best donuts (ever!), and my dad could still get to Florida faster than Dale Earnhardt.