not a retreat. an advance.

A couple of months ago, John decided he wanted to take me to Hume Lake on a homemade little marriage retreat for a weekend.

My first thought was "oh yay! Hume!" Followed by, "I've never been away from the boys for that long! How will Twain and Ollie survive???"

When John and I were dating in college, he literally sent me to Hume that first summer we were together. He wanted me to experience one of his favorite places on earth. He was supposed to stay back in the city working, while I was at Hume. But after a few weeks, he followed me on up to Hume. He claims he missed Hume. Yah, sure;)

He was a fancy camp counselor.

I was a midnight toilet plunger.

The likes of the two aren't supposed to mix.

Us toilet plungers were a little scorned--but we were a proud crew of misfits and even wore matching tees, donning a cartoon character rappelling into a toilet with a clothespin on nose, with the caption saying "It's not a job. It's a nightmare".

I actually plunged over 200 toilets that summer, a feat that was quite daunting for someone of my constitution. I think before Hume, I had never even touched a plunger without retching. I think God gave me this job to prepare me for the rigors of 4 boys. I mean, cleaning their bathroom is not a job, but a nightmare.

However. Toilets and poop aside, that summer was very romantic and we had the time of our lives. So I was excited to go back to one of our favorite places together for our homemade marriage retreat.

Except we weren't calling it a 'retreat'. John read somewhere it should be called a marriage 'advance' because we were going forward rather than backwards.

John was in charge of this whole thing. He decided our itinerary. He is always reading books on marriage and such. He is good at this kind of stuff, whereas I am totally awkward and silly. I can barely keep a straight face typing the word 'marriage' here on this blog.

The night before our trip, I went to Target for some last minute supplies. I was gone 20 minutes. When I returned, Twain informed me, "I missed you while you were at Tardet(Target)".

Oh mercy. I was gone 20 minutes and Tweeds was already missing me? I was sad but knew that the best gift I could ever give to Twain was a good marriage. John deserved a weekend away. It would be good for us.

Still I was a bit 'noivous' leaving Twain behind. I'm slightly pathetic, let's just get that out in the open.

On our drive up, I just felt in my heart that I had to have a warm chocolate chip cookie from McDonalds or I would die. We walked in and I asked for my chocolate chip cookie. But they only had stale oatmeal cookies left. My face fell. The girl behind the register just stared at me.

We then went on a wild goose chase for another McDonalds but couldn't find one. Aren't they supposed to be everywhere? We finally settled for dessert at Burger King, which was a big mistake. The stale cinnabon twisted and churned in my stomach, as we went round and round the mountain up to Hume.

On our way up, John turned on the podcast and we listened to our first online seminar from a speaker on love languages. It was actually pretty funny.

Here's my thoughts on love languages. I don't expect anyone to learn my love language. It's a nice bonus if they do, but certainly not mandatory. But I do think it's neat to go out of your way to learn someone else's. For example, the speaker talked about the time he went off to college and an older  couple from church invited him to dinner with a few other students. Around the dinner table that night, the wife asked each kid what their favorite food was...and lo and behold...she had it served for dinner that night. Each kid asked "How did you know that was my favorite food?" and she answered "I called and asked your mama."

"You called and asked my mama?" they sniffed tearfully. I want to do that one day.

>>>>>>><<<<<<<

The next morning as I was getting ready in the bathroom, John turned on my favorite soundtrack.

I was so happy!

And he said that for our first activity together for the morning, we could make chocolate chip cookies together. Sweet.

We were staying in John's brother's rental cabin, formally owned by their grandparents. I think this retro beater belonged to his Grandma.

My job was to mix in the chocolate chips.


Stoked it was cool enough to wear my favorite wool hoodie.


John's Grandpa made these cabinets. They look swedish and I want them.






And my other job was official taste-tester. Obvi.


We did not have crisco shortening(key ingredient) and used butter instead. As a result, the cookies were very yucky. Our first marriage-builder activity did not fare too well.


We then listened to another speaker via podcast. This time the topic was on honesty in marriage and how it brings you closer together. Once again, I survived the session. Actually I rather enjoyed it.

James 5:16a Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. 

I can attest to the truth in this verse. We all mess up. We are all humans. Even Christians. John and I are not perfect. We are no exception. We need to fess up with the best of them, from time to time.

Onward ho, to marriage builder number 2: Riding on the quad to get to the lake. I never rode on a quad before. This shall be interesting. Like the time we tried riding the tandem bike at Hume. Talk about a good marriage builder.

John drove recklessly down the hill while I screamed and held on for dear life. At the bottom, we switched places. My turn.



I drove along at the pace of a snail and John busted out his iPhone to document our wild ride.


I must say, a girl could get used to 4 wheeling. I finally got up to the speed limit, and off we went.

Next on the agenda was a brisk nature walk around the Lake, to burn off those cookies.


My attempt to look romantic.

Instead I look like I'm squeezing the daylights out of John's hand.

I'll stick to what I know best. Playing in the weeds.


The weather was beautiful. I'm convinced September is the best month to visit Hume. The crowds of hyper kids were gone, replaced by mellow campers scattered about. The sun came out during the day, but it wasn't hot. It was cool at night, but not unbearably so.

We had lunch back at the cabin and then John said I could have some free-time. He's kinda strict, LOL.

I worked on my 1 John Precepts study, so I wouldn't fall behind. I was marking my key words like a  wild mashaguna.


My last Precepts study, I was too cool for colored pencils. This time I have completely embraced the colored pencils. My fearless leader Claudia, will be proud. I feel like I'm in the club now.

Do you think I John has anything to say about love? I think I'm gonna get worked. I mean, I already am.

After free time, John said it was time to play a board game. I stink at board games, but played along to humor the boy. We went outside to play Spill and Spell. I love this picnic table. And the aqua broom to the left.


The goal of this game is to create word puzzles in a short amount of time. It's kind of nerve wracking. I'm too slow. Whenever the sand in the hour glass runs out, I jump and scream from the stress of it all.


John pretty much dominated with his fancy SAT words.



I only was able to come up with short words, but ended up winning the first match because John was being too ambitious. He's way better than I am and easily whipped me at match 2.

We then walked down to join our sister-in-law Kristin and kids at the snack shop for dinner. I'm kinda intolerant to cheese and milk so usually avoid it...but I could not resist nachos with jalepenos and a Hume burger. Totally worth it. Mmmmmmm. Cheeeeeeeeeeese. How I have missed thee.


We had a lovely time chatting around the camp fire, and then we ended our day by snuggling up with a movie: Soul Surfer. I screamed when her arm was bitten off by that shark. But I loved the family in the movie. They were so much fun and the movie had a great message.

During this time, sis-inlaw Kristin felt sorry for us because our chocolate chip cookies were yucky, so she made us a fresh batch of her famous chocolate chip cookies. And hand-delievered them to us while we were watching our movie. Who does that? She amazes me. Love her so much.

On our last day of our 'advance' at Hume, we listened to another seminar. This one was HARD and I squirmed the entire time. Tough topics with tough questions afterwards. It was discouraging and blah, but in the end, anything worth fighting for is tough. You have to periodically ask the tough questions and ask how your marriage is doing and how to make it better. And you might not like the answers your spouse gives.

Listen anyway.

And answer truthfully for yourself.

Then God has something He can work with to make you a stronger couple. John doesn't want us to squeak by as a couple. Nope that's not good enough for him.  He wants the sun, moon and stars. No pressure. I tend to be easily contented with chocolate chip cookies and I resist change. But I shall try my best to rise to the occasion. For John and ultimately God's glory.

One thing that helps me is, asking myself, "How do I want my future daughter-in-laws to treat my sons?" Um, they better give my boys what they need, lol. So I better be a good example of a good wife too.

Ok, back to the cookies. Kristin sent us home with a plate of cookies. {Green print to the left made by katygirl; you can visit her shop here! and hunger games card to right was from Olive Oyl. Love.}


Look at this perfect specimen. The mark of the perfect cookie is that it's flat and puckers up where the chocolate chip resides.


See?

In sum, we had a great great trip to Hume Lake and I would totally do it again. I was thrilled to get back to the boys. My in-laws went above and beyond the call of duty, watching my boys and changing my dead van battery. So a special thanks to Ron and Betty.

The next day, Twain and Ollie screamed and cried and threw tantrums all day long, until I thought I would lose my mind. But today was back to the norm.

The end.

Part Tres.

I got home from dropping Finn and Calvin off at school. I went straight to my back door,
stopped,
and did a double take.

What the????

So many thoughts swirling around my head.

1. Up to this point I had never seen the mama cat. It's the black cat in the middle there. The cat that I had always thought was a boy cat... that I was always chasing out of my yard because I thought he'd knock up Peach before she was spayed. Guess I did not have to worry about that.

2. How on earth does one dominant-colored cat give birth to such varied offspring? Cat genetics MUST be different than human genetics, is all I can say about that.

3. The biggest surprise of all was the presence of the FOURTH kitten. I thought there was only THREE.

4. Best of all, the FOURTH kitten looks like a little moo cow with its black and white pattern! Hahahahahahaha. God is SO funny to make such an odd looking little kitty!

I gently opened the door to say "oh hai" to mama cat and she was none to pleased.

"HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" she spat at me and ran away, causing her little kittens to flee as well.

Girlfriend looks pretty good for just having 4 kids. But the hissing? It's just rude. Like she thinks I'm gonna take her babies and run or something. It's not like I had homes picked out for them or anything. I mean, that did not happen til at least an hour later, haha.

I really wanted a closer look at the 4th kitten, but I had to take Ollie and little neighbor Paulie to preschool.

Back in the van, the chatter of kitties continues.

Ollie says to Paulie "Guess what? We have kittens. And Peach is one of the mommies!"

Oh wow. We have some 'splainin' to do. Haha. Peach--ONE of the mommies.

10-year-old neighbor Jordan asked his mama "Is Peach the mommy?"  and "Is Skittle the daddy?"

So much discussion, this little sitch has brought about. Inquiring minds want to know.

We are pretty sure that the papa(at least one of the papas) was the boy Siamese cat up the street. Since cats can drop eggs over a span of days, it is likely there was more than one papa.

Look at me showing off my newfound cat knowledge. It's shameless.

Back at the home front, neighbor Cynthia wants to take another look at the Siamese kitty. But kitties would NOT come out and play. A little while later, she was on her waterfall, trying to sneak a pic of the kitties with her zoom lens. "Silly kitties and silly people", she texted, laughing.

And later her teenage daughter Brynn came over to look at the Siamese. She wants one, pretty bad. And Libby could barely sleep the night before because she was so excited about it.

I was determined to get a closer look at 'moo-kitty'.

"Here kitty kitty", I whispered.

OHHHHHH. LOOOOOOK!


WHOA. There was...so...much fur..."What IS this thing???", I wondered, shrinking back a little in fear.

And then back he went, disappearing under the deck again.

And peeking out again. Awwww. Not to worry. Will ya take a look at this sweet lil moo face?


A little while later, mama was busy eating our food(yourwelcome Miss Hiss) and her little ones came tumbling out to have a lil fun. It's ridiculously cute watching them prance all over the deck. When they saw me, they were a bit apprehensive and so it took me a little while to sneak a few more shots.

I am seriously dying from little moo.

John calls him Chewbacca. Because "vaca"(pronounced baca in spanish) means "cow". And he is pretty furry like Chewbacca.

I personally think he looks more like an ewok.


So here's the scoop.

Finn desperately wants moo-kitty.
Calvin desperately wants the Siamese kitty.
Ollie wants the black kitty and calls him Tux. HAHA. He wants to recreate Tabby and Tux with Peach and this new black kitty. Cracks me up.




The neighbors want the other Siamese kitty. Well, the neighbor kids want it.
My mom will take the black kitty and is willing to take moo-kitty to dad's work.

And I am TORN. John says we can only pick one new kitty. One the one hand, the Siamese will grow into a beautiful cat. And the Siamese are thus far the most friendly of the bunch of kitties. They always want to play with me. We have a little bond.

But. But.

Moo-kitty is so wonderfully quirky and odd. How can I resist his strange ewok charms? I'm fascinated by him. He has a lot of character.

How am I supposed to choose between these two faces? Hm? Hm? You tell me. And no, flushing them all down the toilet is not an option. {Ahem} You know who you are.

I predict heart break either way. So much for being "the chosen ones", ha.

I said I'd never get a cat--part deux

The excitement in this house is electric, I tell you. Electric!

Like Christmas on your Birthday at Disneyland kind of excited.

Our one and only family  trip to Disneyland.

What could be the cause of all this commotion?

Only ONE thing could cause such a stir.

>>>>>>><<<<<<<

Monday night I was at Stbx when I got a text from John.

"we have kittens", 

it read, with a blurry photo of a staggering kitten blob near our back deck.

And no, Peach did not have kittens. She was spayed a while ago.

I thought nothing of it and continued sipping my iced salted caramel frappuccino(cookie crumble frapp is waaaaay better, btw).

"How are we gonna find a home for this critter?", I sighed. And "Who is gonna want that fur ball?", I wondered.

Little did I know the spark that had already started at our back door and was blazing to the neighbor's house. 

I opened the garage door back at home at 10:30pm.

I walked into Twain and Ollie's room. Twain was up in bed waiting for me to get home, as is his custom. That boy sweats me out, every time I leave. Besides. He was wide awake from the events of the evening.

"We have kitties under our det(deck)" he could barely manage to squeak out. He then proceeded to ramble at top speed about said kitties.

I stepped out our back door, onto the landing of our deck. John sat outside, with a bowl of milk and kibble, of course.


Slowly, a little kitty head began to tentatively and cautiously emerge from under the deck.



At the first sight of this little Siamese face with pointed ears, I completely lost it and started to squeal in another octave. And baby talk. I vaguely remember lots of incoherent baby talk.

"Can we keep one, can we keep one?" I asked, jumping up and down.

I was in complete and total awe that this striking fancy-pants kitty was under MY cozy deck. How on earth do things like this happen to such ordinary folk as ourselves?

"We must be the chosen ones", I declared.

At this, John is now staring at me like I have horns growing out of my head. "Where is my wife and where did you put her??!!" John demanded.  

This is a legitimate question. How on earth did I go from utterly disdaining the idea of having a cat, to begging my husband for another one?" 

This is how.

How am I supposed to resist this little face??? And four kitty-crazy little boys???


And to think. Just this last post, Ollie was chattering about naming a new kitty when he was 6. Ha. Guess the joke is on me.

Another little Siamese emerges. Twinsies!


Followed by a solid black kitten. Why hi there, little fellow!

They are still a little skittish, so this footage was incredibly difficult to come by. They kept running away.

Three little kittens. Such a surprise.

Earlier that evening, Libby and Ty were over and went wild over these kitties too. Before long, baby sister Josie and mama Cynthia came over to see what the fuss was all about. Apparently they used to own a cat that looked like these lil Siamese kittens. "They are point cats with point coloring", Cynthia explained. They were as smitten as we were.

I went to bed with a smile on my face over this unexpected turn of events.

It was dark the next morning, and I awoke to Finn's face hovering over my own.

"Mom. Did you know that we have kittens under our deck?" he asked incredulously.

"Why yes!", I answered, popping out of bed and racing Finn to our backyard. Finn was already fussing over food for the kitties.

Back inside, Calvin comes up to me breathlessly. "Mommy. Did you know we have kittens?", he asked with stars in his huge brown eyes.

"Oh yes dear, isn't it grand?", I answered.

He nodded his head and could scarcely say another word from the sheer thrill of the anticipation of the excitement.

We bundled into the van, chattering nonstop about kitties, on our way to school.

But back at home, the biggest {little} surprise of all was waiting for me under the deck...

To be cont.

what's in a name?

I always perk up when friends and family want to talk about baby names. SUCH a hot topic.

Part I.
One night, John was putting the boys to bed and they started talking about the meaning of their names.

[Finn/Finnley]--"small warrior or fair-haired warrior"

Finn was especially pleased with the meaning of his name. With his love of weapons and danger, it happens to suit him at this point in life.

When I was pregnant with Finn, we did not know his gender until he was born. I wanted to be surprised. My older sister Jessica hounded me quite a bit, and really wanted me to find out sooner. I stood firm, and we did not peek. We went to the hospital with 2 names picked out: Finn for a boy, and Elle(pronounced like the letter 'L') for a girl.

When I was pregnant with Calvin, we found out the gender. Mainly because Jessica was hounding me again, lol, and so I caved. We found out we were having another boy.You'd think with the 5 months or so to think about it, we would have a named picked out. But no.

We went to the hospital without any strong name preferences. Though deep in my gut, I just knew.

The first day of Calvin's life, he had no name. My 2nd c-section had left me quite traumatized, and so when people kept asking for the name, I was like "What? You expect me to name him???" I was so out of it, I didn't even want to know. But in the back of my mind, I had an inkling...I really liked the name Calvin, but just wasn't feeling brave enough to go for it until the next day. It was a family name(on John's side), and I liked how it sounded.

[Calvin]--"bald".  Bahaha.


He's like, "Wait. What? Me, bald?". The boys found that uproarious.

Hi middle name is Jack, also a family name, and means 'God is gracious'. Phewey. I hope that makes up for the first part of his name. And God was so gracious to give us another healthy baby boy.

Some name their child based on the meaning of the name.
Some based on how it sounds or makes them feel.
Others name based on a loved one or family name.

I'm guessing I fall into the latter two...

Two year later, along came [Oliver/Ollie]--"elf army"

Yes, with his spd(sensory processing disorder), this child has seemed like an army of elves to deal with at times. Wouldn't trade it for the world, though.

And finally, my 4th pregnancy. A surprise pregnancy. So I decided to be surprised with the gender til baby was born. However, I did have the ultrasound tech write down the gender of the baby on a piece of paper and I mailed it off to my sister Jessica, without peeking once. Yup, she is the only one on the planet, save God and the ultrasound tech, that knew the gender of my child. I cannot believe I gave her that much power, ha.

We went to the hospital armed with 2 names and my caboodle{for my supplies, of course}. Twain for a boy, and Harper for a girl. Harper, btw, got very trendy after that. You can never predict how a name will take off.

[Twain]-"divided in two". I kinda felt divided in two after that last c-section...literally.

My poor *b-models are bald and cut in two. Bah!

*Finn and Ollie are alike and are dubbed the a-models, whereas Calvin and Twain are very similar and are therefore the b-models. The birth order pattern is a-b-a-b.

As for Twain's middle name...I think I was high as a kite(on morphine) when I gave him the middle name of Orion. \oh-Rye-on\. Orion was actually Mark Twain's brother...see? HIGH. But. It does mean mighty hunter, which will please the boy when he grows up. Though these days, with his "chinter-toy"(tinker-toy) swords, he reminds me more of Reepicheep from Chronicles of Narnia.


I literally find these tinker-toy swords scattered everywhere throughout the house. Or tucked into the back of his shorts. Every day.





I am very tempted to change his middle name. From Orion to Ryan. I feel like Twain is such an odd name, that it needs a more traditional name like Ryan to balance it out. Twain Ryan. Besides. Every Ryan I know is pretty much awesome.

As for me, I was named after Grandpa Dave. My mother was quite delirious after I was born, and the nurse almost convinced her to name me "Davelle Rene". Can you imagine? Sometimes my sisters still  call me Davelle Rene. Instead, I was named Davi Rebecca, with the understanding that there was to be a little girly  heart over the letter i.

[Davi, derivative of David]--"beloved".

It suits me. After all, my favorite character in the Bible is King David.

There is often confusion over my name. Just last night at a wedding, the bride's side did not know me and assigned my seating under the name Mr. Davi. Haha.


Part II. Grab a coffee. I'm trying to reach my word quota of the day.
My dear friend J recently posted on her blog the names that her current children would like to name their future children. And since we have been on the subject of names over here, I decided to conduct an impromptu interview with each boy to see what names they liked.

Me: "Ollie, when you are big like daddy, do you want a baby?"
Ollie: "Um, when I'm big like 6, I would like a cat."
Me: "What about a baby", I asked, rocking a fake baby in my arms.
Ollie: "I want my baby cat to be named 'too cute'".

This picture of Peach literally makes my heart ache. Why do our babies have to grow up so fast? A kitty is big by 6 months. It's like our kids, but in warp speed.

Moving on to Twain.

Me: "Twain, what are you going to name your baby?"
Twain: "Nuffing".
Me: "Aw c'mon. What if you have a baby girl?"
Twain: "I have a baby girl named Peach."

I could not convince Twain of any other name than Peach.

When Finn and Calvin got home, I pounced on them for their names.

Me: "Hey Calvin, what names do you like for a baby girl or boy?"
Calvin: He didn't say one word but just ran away.

Go figure. Boys.

Me: "Finn, give me some names you like!"
Finn: "That is hard, I don't know." Giggle, giggle "I don't know."

Then Calvin joined us and I bribed them with lollipops.

Finn finally settled on Jack and Grace.
Calvin likes Jake and Elise. Pretty cute if you ask me.

I currently like the following names but am not completely serious and have not given it much thought. I am just playing my imaginary game and throwing things out there right now, okee dokee?

For girls
-Eleanor because of her. And I'd likely call her Elle, because, Eleanor is a mouthful. And girls are picky. And she might not like her name. Us girls are a complicated bunch.
-Matilda. For reals. But I would not be brave enough to use it. Ever. At least I don't think so.
-Olive. I adore this name. But I already have an Oliver.

For boys
-Gus. I've always loved it. Knew an awesome Gus in college. But my dear cousin just used it. So.
-Ashley from Mr. Ashley Wilkes of Gone with the Wind. Even though this name has gone to the girls, I will always like it on a manly-man. Not that he was manly. I mean, his real name is Leslie...
Honestly, I'm all out of boys names. Which is a good thing, because I'm all stocked up on boys over here.

For Pets
-Peeta from H.G. He is so cute and little I could put him in my pocketbook.

How do you pick a name? Do you lean more toward meaning or association or sound? Do your kids currently match the meanings of their names?