However, we all are getting along well, to the point that when I told the kids we might visit our friends this summer (they now live in the Pacific Northwest), my kids cheered and begged to go (hope that is okay with you, my husband-who-is-at-eTech).

I’ve gotten some looks this week as I’ve wandered around with five kids in tow. Friends and even some fellow islanders who are familiar with our family can tell which ones are mine. But when we walked around downtown Seattle, I received some stares. A small crowd of five kids in a family is an unusual sight. And it’s possible that they could all be mine, except for the fact that two of them are only seven months apart. Yes, people have asked questions, people from the woman who scooped up sundaes at Cold Stone Creamery to strangers on the street of downtown Seattle.

“For today, they are mine,” I reply with a smile. Sure, taking care of two more kids is costing me a good amount of time and energy this week. But isn’t it worth it? Isn’t this what life should be about? Shouldn’t this be something that happens all the time, normal and not worth a stare?

Tuesday was the one day we had freedom in our schedule, so I took the girls kids (I’m learning a lot about boys!) to downtown Seattle. We walked onto the ferry where we ate lunch. The two visitors wanted to stand out on the deck and feel the wind blow against them. Then we stopped by Ye Old Curiousity Shop on the way to the Aquarium. After an hour or so of watching fishes and sea otters, we hiked three blocks of stairs up through Pike Place Market to Cold Stone Creamery where I got each kid whatever he or she requested, no matter how large. Then back through the Market and to the boat, picking up plates of Ivar’s fish and chips for the ride home (our friends said they had never had fish and chips).

That morning I had heard of Dana Reeve’s death on the radio. Between Elena and Dana, Joey’s dad, and other sorrows in news and blogs (or even posts like this one), I want to seize each day. It cost in a number of ways to take that trip to Seattle with five kids. But I wanted to take the opportunity to let the kids touch a sea star and watch a shark swim. I wanted to let them laugh at the sea otter pup and let them gasp at the wonder of wolf eels and octopus eggs. I wanted them to taste chocolate and mint, fish and fries, to savor the sunset over the mountains, the salt of the sea and the wind in their faces. I wanted to take the day and all it had to give and give it to these children, three of mine and two friends.

As we walked past the fish market at PIke Place I told the kids how the employees throw the salmon when someone purchases one. Carpe salmon came to mind. Of course as a play on carpe diem, seize the day. But I see two aspects of carpe salmon. One image is of abundance: I’ve read that the first people who lived in the Northwest could grab salmon out of the streams whenever they were hungry. That’s how rich this region was. And of course, the original carpe diem – seize the day,or to quote from the Wikipedia page, first Robin Williams (I have a little Dead Poets Society story too) make your lives extraordinary. or make every moment meaningful. Catch whatever comes to you. Take the opportunities.

I want to take every opportunity I have to love others, to pour abundance into them. I only have today. And two more kids to enjoy in it.

When Joey’s dad became ill last month, Joey and Wendy let me know that they wouldn’t be able to be at SXSW and participate in the Bloggers in Love panel I had organized. We’ll miss them. Hugs to all in the deVilla clan, along with our family’s thoughts, prayers and sympathy.

We are learning all about sleep deprevation and other fun first time parenting things. He is healthy, happy, and super cool to be around. I am just in love with him and am having a great time getting to know him. He has my ears and my strange way of holding my pinky when I grab things, we notice something new about him every day.

Go take a peek!

On second thought, if cloning is too complicated, perhaps an examination and sequencing of her chromosomes would provide the explanation of which particular nucleotides make Betsy as fun and brilliant as she is….and with technology we could copy and insert her genes so we could all be so intriguing…imagine a Betsy Devine vaccine!

Betsy’s joie de vivre reminds me of my friend Patricia who is fluent in French and mother of the proprietor of K’s Cafe . I wish there were duplicate Patricias in the world too, or at least one who didn’t live so far away!

just being silly here…it’s the Betsy effect…look at what happened to Dave too

….
I have plenty of imaginary friends… [...] … that is, people I only know online, whether through Livejournal or Usenet or various web communities. What I want is a few more people colocated within a hour’s drive, people I could go to the movies with, or have over for dinner, or call when I need help with the yard (naturally they could also count on me for support).

So when I’m getting to know new people, I feel a strong drive to be likeable. Underneath this is a weak sense that I’m not naturally likeable, not likeable for who I am. (Actually, I feel this sometimes even with long-term acquaintances that I’d like to turn into close friends.) It’s often tempting to shade the truth, or hide some part of me that I’m afraid they will find objectionable–after all, most of this stuff isn’t relevant to forming this particular friendship…….

Also this week, Darren Barefoot linked to Tristan Miller’s Why I Will Never Have a Girlfriend. Apparently others have posted on this essay also.

Tristan Miller employed qualifications and calculations to determine how many women on the planet (according to 1998 stats) could be potential partners. Miller wrote

In that case, referring to our previous calculation, only 15.8655% of females would consider someone with my physical characteristics and personality acceptable as a potential romantic partner.

Like Snippy, I would like to find some local friends. And like Tristan Miller, I figure my odds of finding what I want are slim. Or rather I have too many qualifications for people I want to be close to me.

Reading Miller’s piece, I kept wanting to interrupt and correct him. I wanted to tell him that perhaps he has too many restrictions. After all, how can you tell with whom you will fall in love? Ted and I may not have chosen each other if we had made such lists. I know for certain that we don’t fit Tristan Miller’s criteria: we are five years apart in age. But we became good friends. Then boyfriend and girlfriend. We exchanged vows and rings thirteen years ago next month and we’re still having fun, falling more in love through the ups and downs of married life. Love isn’t logical. And it often refuses to follow a plan or fit itself into calculations. Who knows, maybe Tristan Miller might fall in love with someone who he doesn’t think is beautiful or intelligent enough…? Or someone who is not from one of the countries he has pre-selected?

I saw myself in snippy’s post. And I saw myself in Tristan Miller’s piece too. I fear that I will never find many friends where we live now. From time to time I think about what I would like to find in an ideal best friend. And then I think that this person would be such a rare creature; odds declare there is no way she could exist on this small island.

Laura’s post this week also reflected pieces of myself to me.

It’s funny how precious certain things that you once took for granted or even looked forward to dumping become when they are in jeopardy. This house, small and in a lower class, even bordering on sketchy, neighborhood has suddenly come to mean very much to me. I look at the old scratched wood floors, dearly in need of refinishing, and think of the first steps taken upon it by my children. I look at the tile countertops which drive me crazy because they won’t stay clean and ponder how many loaves of bread I’ve kneaded upon them to sustain my family. I look at the walls we’ve painted, the icons hung, the decorations, the piano with it’s parade of family pictures and I am thankful for the life we’ve given this home. It has sustained us and sheltered us from hurricanes, blizzards and even the scorching summer sun. It’s a humble home, but it does the trick.

As a family we have had our financial ups and downs. After 9/11 Ted’s consulting work slowed. It was a tight time for us. Although I had had dreams of what I wanted to do with our house and yard, and what kind of car I wanted to drive, I learned to surrender them all in gratitude for what we had. Precious is an appropriate word. Suddenly what we had became precious because we didn’t have much.

There’s a joy in finding contentment in the commonplace. In learning to love the scratched floors or the mismatched sofas. For me it has been a big struggle to learn to like our garden, so different from my dreams. But now I am learning to be happy with what we have. I think I learned the lesson. Yet I know I can always learn more. One can never own enough humility.

And as I assembled all these posts together, I realized that contentment is hard to come by in relationships even though people are more precious than any possession I might have learned to cherish. Too often I worship a childlike ideal, images of friendship I picked up from picture books. Like Tristan Miller I sometimes have a concept of whom I would choose to love, but love and friendship often don’t fit into plans. In my lonelier, more-misunderstood moments of moping, I hope to find a mirror image of me, someone who would know exactly what I like, need and want to do. As if I am the perfect friend (or spouse!) myself. None of Laura’s humble pie or quiet contentment here: mine is a proud and selfish model.

What we believe we need and what we need are often different from each other. I believe we need diversity. We need people who are different from ourselves in our lives. And we need people who are different from whomever we would like them to be. For we are not who we think we are either. I know I am not.

But I rejoice in the good news I am finding in my aggregator…

Enoch and Tania welcomed Aidan into the world this morning! Hurray! We were glad to get to visit with the Chois during our road trip. May God bless you all! Aidan is a big boy. What was most impressive however were the blog posts written by mom and dad from the operating room early this morning!

Jenny and Paul are expecting a new little one next year. I’m excited! She announced the pregnancy in her blog…and in a creative way to her husband and family. I like her story (it involves a bakery!). Each time I learned I was pregnant, I told Ted in a different way. The first time, we were driving down a freeway on-ramp when Ted asked me about the results of the test I’d taken at the doctor’s office…I replied is this how you want me to tell you this?!

Although I’ve never met Janece, I’m looking forward to reading about the arrival of her baby anytime. She has been reading some interesting books and creating beautiful paintings in the process of her pregnancy.

I’m sorry we missed seeing this family and their new wee one at the Meetup this week.

Congratulations to all mommy and daddy bloggers and to all their babies!

It’s been a blessing to have Katherine as my friend and a double blessing to also have my friend’s mom as my friend too. Happy Belated Birthday to Patricia!

Hi girls! I was happy to see you on Sunday: it’s great that you started a business together to sell lemonade on sunny days. I’m excited to see entrepreneurs on my street and I’d love to give you a few quarters for your appropriate summer product. Here are some ways that would help me help you…