Where I Said Yes.

There is this lovely stretch of beach in Bar Harbor, Maine that holds the dearest of memories for me.  It's the spot where Kev and I spent many a date, it's the spot where he proposed and where I said yes, and it's the spot where we love to bring our little (well...I guess now it's considered more of a "large") family on sunny summer days...or on kind of rainy days if you need to beat it for a house showing...

Really, it's just lovely for whenever..
This is it:
Sand Beach.

He proposed way up on those rocks one rainy day 15 years ago...

On the day of his proposal, it was rainy and he had planned a picnic.  But, we didn't care.  I lived two hours north, and during the year of our engagement, I was working hard at waitressing - trying to pay off my student loans, and he was working hard at saving and at fixing up the tiniest of baby apartments and doing all of our furniture shopping by himself...completely outfitting the place with yard sale treasures.  It was awesome.  Truly.  I was so proud of our first little place...

Anyway, we both had Wednesdays off, so we would take turns.  One week, he would make the drive up to my hometown, and the next week I would make the drive down to him.  And rain or shine, we would always go on some sort of adventure, because we only saw each other that one day a week all the way up until we got married.  Wednesdays were my favorite.  This particular Wednesday when he did the big "ask" was just a regular, random Wednesday like any other.  No special day.  No Holiday.  Just a normal Wednesday.

This is the water behind Sand Beach.  My boys prefer playing here because they can find eels.  Grody.

Back then, he didn't know me as well as he knows me now...so he wasn't aware that surprises aren't really my cup of tea.  I like to know when something big is going to happen.  I like to be prepared.  Little surprises like "Hey, let's have ice cream for supper," or "Hey, want to go on a date tonight?" I love.  But big surprises sometimes throw me for a loop.  I like to know what's coming.

So, on this day - this very random day - when he proposed in song, and when the last line of his chorus was "Will you marry me?"  I thought he was joking, because most certainly he was going to wait until my birthday or maybe Christmas....not just a regular, random Wednesday.  So I laughed and said:  "Sure!"  But, then when he got down on one knee and pulled out the ring, I burst into tears.  I'm awesome like that.  I rarely cry, but when I do, I choose really stellar times to do so.  And it wasn't the "I'm so happy he proposed kind of tears."  It was more like the "I'm panicking because I'm pretty sure you didn't ask my Dad, and that's the way you're supposed to do these things" kind of tears.

In fact, my very first words were:  "Did you ask my Dad?"
How endearing.
And his response was:  "I did.  And he said yes.  What are you going to say?"

So, then I cried harder and said yes.  And then I noticed all of the people walking by and staring at us.  And then I figured they all probably thought we were fighting or something.  So, then I told every. single. person. who walked by that he just asked me to marry him.  And that I really was happy.  Even though I was a snotty mess.

And look at us now.
Fourteen years and four babies later.
Crazy stuff.

But this man.  Oh my goodness.  This man.
How I love him.
He is the joy of my heart, and I would follow him to the Ends of the Earth.
He's also pretty funny.  And I like funny.  So, I shall keep him.

He also really, really loves his babies.
Which makes me really, really love him more.
And I really, really love watching him with his wee baby girl.
Oh.  My goodness.  Precious.

He shaved his mustache, but kept his beard for a few days.
I found him to look very Amish-like, and so I renamed him Joseph Yoder.
Now his beard is thinner and he looks more like a Kevy.

Here's one of those grody eels that Kaden and Jesse caught in that black, mucky water.
Most people come to the ocean...you know....for the ocean.
My boys come for the eels.

But, then we lure them to the ocean before we finally beat it for home.
And once they re-discover it's glory, they always run wild.
I never pack their swimsuits because the water is bone-achingly freezing, and I always figure they will never want to swim...but they always do....so they always just end up going in their regular clothes.  I forget that wee little boys don't care about not feeling their extremities.

Is it awful, that the entire time they played in the waves I was hoping for a big huge one to crash over their heads?  I thought that would be highly hilarious.  Okay.  You're right.  That is awful.  I have a sick sense of humor....  And therein lies the difference between Kevy and I:  the entire time the boys played in the waves, he was on high alert waiting to dive into its watery depths to save them, but I was camera-ready for a funny photo op...

Opposites attract they say.

Wee Missy Miss is a bit of a crabby pants.

If I were to rate my children when they were babies on the "contentment scale," Ransom would win hands-down as being my happiest baby.  That child came home on a schedule, he hardly ever cried, and he was just an all around uber content newborn.  Kaden was fussy his first three months of life but then became content after he got on a bit of a rhythm, and Jesse was a train wreck pretty much his entire first year of life.

So far, Miss London is #2 on the not-so-happy scale.
If she is being held, she is chill.  If she is on her own, she is not.
God knew what He was doing in giving me a happy happy boy-joy for baby #3.  London may have never made her debut.  Lucky for her, I am a much more chill Mama by baby #4, so it doesn't bother me too awfully much.

Good thing she's squishy.  And delishy...

A dead jelly fish find.  Glorious.

And so, our Family Day was glorious.
Sand Beach always brings back super happy memories.
It's where it all began...and it's where the possibility of four wee Hoolies first came to be...

It's my happy place.
So very glad he asked...