He's a happy guy

You know you're a happy person when you smile even when you're underwater.

THIRTY is not a curse word

I don't have the pictures of the first amazing 25 years here to put on the blog, but even the last 5 give a pretty good idea of some of the reasons reaching 30 is something to celebrate. HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMORE!
















This is the Fernando we love! We can't wait to spend the next 30 with you!!!!

the black hair people

I had to be Fernando tonight for over an hour. He's up at the Heber Valley Camp for a work retreat/training and so I started Family Home Evening and Miranda soon requested, dare I say demanded?, that I "be daddy" and talk in daddy's voice. It got old quickly. I think my lower vocal register is rusty.

For Miranda, it's always the black hair people...and then me. She loves to emphasize how the black hair people are BFFs (they have a Best Friends Forever handshake to boot) and how they all like the same food and don't like the same food, and how they all like to do the same things, and they all like to learn funny things to say to trick me together (this week I was scooting out of the pew at Church when Miranda said, "Mom, have you been in the sun today, because YOU'RE HOT!!" and then smirked and looked over at Fernando like, "We SO totally slammed her, dad! We are SO cool.") I like how my husband gives her pick up lines to tell me and she thinks they're taunting teases. And I pretend to be offended and mad every time so that they'll keep feeding me the pick up lines. I have a few tricks of my own you can see!

In sum, she loves to tell me how I'm not included because I don't have black hair. But she sometimes adds that she loves me anyway. I appreciate her charitable descent to my level.

I actually get a big kick out of it. I remember thinking before I married Fernando about the day when I'd be cleaning the tub drain and realize that everyone's hair was black! Except for mine of course. Unless maybe I will have morphed by then, or "evolved" perhaps is a better word. OR if I've worn down the Seminario genes by then to the point that I bear a blonde! Or a redhead at least, come ON! I didn't imagine my 3 year old forbidding me from liking oranges because the black hair people do, but I could NOT have imagined myself having a child so perceptive and forthright as Miranda. So I'll take the insults with the intellect. Like Katie said the other day about herself (after Miranda woke up, looked at Katie's loving face and said with disgust and disdain, "I've GOTTA get OUT of here"), LUCKILY I have self-esteem.

I guess I should mention that she does cry when I leave to go to a meeting, and she always wants me to sit by her in the car, stuff like that. We don't have major issues, so no need to worry. I did try to invent a princess club to provide additional inclusion for myself, but Miranda will only be in it when it doesn't interfere with the BFFs. I even remember a time when Miranda insisted that she had yellow hair like me. It was when I actually had yellow hair, chemical though it was. So I think where we are at is probably a better place. The sample lady at Costco this afternoon asked me if the kids were mine. I get to forgetting I'm not a black hair person sometimes! But don't worry, at least one black hair person does not forget.

I find it fitting for this post that I include a set of pictures of beautiful black hair people taken by myself in which I do not appear to be a member of the family.

We went to Griffith Park in CA and took the train. These black hair people were in the cars behind me. Yes that's blood on Sammy's shirt. He likes to look tough so he can intimidate other babies. NO, he actually had a horrible and scary bloody nose at the park. He's in recovery in the shot above.



These were the black hair people in the cars in front of me.



The BFFs at the wishing well on Olvera street.

We Like to HIKE

Well, most of us do. Some of us like to be carried on hikes.
My family tries to get up to the Albion Base above Alta during the wildflower bloom. Last time we went Miranda was 8 weeks old or thereabouts. It is a LOVELY family-friendly hike. I highly recommend it.
This time we were lucky to have Katie back from China. Dad and Fernando kept switching off hoisting the kids, and the rest of us occasionally lugged whichever was whineyest.
When I go to the mountains I always wonder WHY in the world I don't go there more. My perspective seems to clear with the crisp thin air and the view...I can better see the earth in its splendor and the beauty of my life and the blessings I enjoy. My worries, busyness, and problems get smaller as all of the world gets bigger.





pride rock from Lion King. Look closely.

the destructor

We've always called Sam "the destructor." ...Like "skeletor" with an emphasis on the "or." Just want you to read it right.

Yesterday he proved it.

He flipped his blue popsicle all over the wall and, and, AND got a big drop onto the matte (sp?) of a painting we bought in Italy! All from the convenience of his high chair! Don't worry, the little blue spot will NOT come out.

He also spread his sister's cake all over the couch downstairs.

And finally...

He got a little mesh bag that I keep fingernail polish in, like about 10 bottles, and threw it down on the carpet in our room. No worries. It's carpet, so the fall was cushioned, right? Wrong. They smashed against each other and of course the one to break was the BRIGHT RED ONE. So red goes through the mesh bag (MESH!? very smart, Sharon...grrr!) onto the carpet and onto all the other stuff in the bag. I took it all to the sink to try to wash it off while it was still wet (leaving the carpet stain there to dry...VERY smart, Sharon...) and none of it would come off just with the water, it was already sticking (a valuable quality in a nail polish at any othe r time). Right now as these fingers fly across the keyboard they are still stained with red. I finally got it all cleaned up and off of the sink after having to throw several things in the mesh bag and the bag itself away. I had to use SO much nail polish remover and ruin a towell, strike that, two towells.

Then like a genius I started to try to get the red out of the carpet with nail polish remover. Which Fernando almost simultaneously found out downstairs on the computer with wikipedia should NOT be used to get nail polish stains out of carpet.

So, the stain is still there. I've read a few removal suggestions I'm willing to try. But this red blotch might just be the motivation we need to rip up the carpet and refinish the wood floor. If Fernando is reading this, please recognize that the word "we" in the previous sentence should be interpreted very loosely as I plan on helping, or non helping, about as much as I did when you refinished the rest of the upstairs. So, yeah, maybe we won't be starting that project anytime soon.

It was all in a day's work for the destructor.

thinking ahead...we do more than potty training around here

Yes the Seminario children are preparing for football season. You can see we have really been encouraging them to eat a protein-rich diet and push themselves with the weights. Clearly such dedication has paid off.