Nana and Papa were welcomed with wet hugs again this summer!

Not coming out of the pool herself when they arrived, Lucy nonetheless found a way to give them a little extra spritz.

Most people associate August with a back to school countdown, hustling around for last minute school supplies and clothes, open houses and reestablishing routines. Not us. We were entering phase II of the never-ending summer vacation. Off in mid-June, back in mid-September… this situation really called for some refresher workbook pages, a stack of Spanish flashcards, something! Anything?!

Come to think of it (and they really needed to do some thinking) we hosted a retired teacher who seemed to be offering hands-on coursework. I know for a fact they used lots of items on their school supply list.

Attendance was always good…

but was any of it for an educational purpose?

Because fashion design doesn’t strike me as part of curriculum-based instruction.

And what about Sociology?

Economics? That might qualify.

If not, she paid for it. Counting up the hours of her life she devoted to teaching the key concepts of wealth building.

What on earth is this? On second thought, we may need to audit her own educational transcripts.

I think it’s obvious who ran the (fashion) show.

Just a pawn in their game.

And the teacher’s assistant? Happy to play any part so long as he got his three square meals and Lucy duty.

I can usually come up with a line for a photo like this… except Lucy is something else. Her exuberance for life and disregard for its limits justify more supervision than we can provide.

Lucy: “I put a fork in Mom, she’s done. How would you like the job?”

Put your hands together, we have a walker!

Who occasionally lapses back on all fours for the really dirty jobs.

Their summer of fun finally crawled to an end with Nana and Papa’s departure…

Lucy blazing the trail.

The girls eventually left too, under duress.

Stranded Lucy intended to chase them down…

but she got distracted by a dangerous ledge, hornets and other morning perils.

Adios, summer!

The hikes were each so unique, and the girls kept pace enthusiastically.

Generally speaking.

8, 9 plus miles they logged, without counting their forays during our “breaks.”

One day we meant to do the premier trail in the area, unfortunately we started a little late and the sun was strong. Because you can see the Cirque de Gavarnie and its waterfalls as you approach we felt as though we weren’t very far away. But no matter how many steps we made, scaling rocky beds, crossing rivers and pushing ever forward, the base of the largest falls seemed out of reach. From that experience we have a special family motto, “To the mist, girls!” Because after lugging packs, water, Lucy, and our doubts for hours, we finally felt the cool mist of the falls. I wasn’t confident we would reach the end, and at times I wondered how we’d get back to the car once we did. And yet, persistence ruled the day. They are climbing again lately, trying to assimilate at school, learn Spanish, accept the change. I’m not always the best motivator, or the most patient shoulder for their tears. But having so many difficult ascents behind us, I realize they will eventually prevail. They showed their hands, in the Pyrenees, the girls have true grit.

We walked… and walked away a stronger family: refreshed, bonded, accomplished, and grateful for the beautiful natural setting that brought us the paradoxical “rest” we needed.

Merci, France! Until we meet, and eat, again.

Thank goodness Cate and the girls enjoyed that day hike in May…

because it was the inspiration for our summer road trip. We scanned the map for mountains… and situated about 13 hours away the Pyrenees create the boarder between Spain and France. We set out with very neutral expectations. The travel books were all checked out but the librarian had good things to say (in between her incredulous exclamations about our lack of reserved lodging). In the least, we knew we would see some mountains and eat pastries, because we found a last minute Airbnb on the French side. It’s vacation girls, it’ll be fine!!

Tacking on a few hours to drive along the eastern side of Spain for the first time we loaded the car top carrier and set off on the first four-hour leg. Cue the Willie Nelson, snack requests, nursing stops, and a car accident. What?! Nothing like starting off with a bang, literally! We survived the fender bender without injury, except to the vacation budget.

More bangs would come… but only from a complete lack of personal space. Bring on the family time, sisters!!

And how about some celebratory cuisine?

Eat that flavor revolution up, girls, it’s parking garage tailgating from here on out. Jamon flavored chips, hand-torn baguette, and shade! Why do we never see anyone else doing this kind of thing??

Or this? Overflow luggage that can double as picnic baskets!

A few days of city hoping in Almeria, Valencia and Zaragoza helped with our fitness conditioning, but maybe took us a bit overboard on the budget traveler persona.

Lucy: “Am I close?”

Lucy: “Are you sure this is the child’s size cone I saw in the distance?”

Lucy: “I swear it looked much bigger…”

We felt the same about the Bio Museum in Valencia, the outside definitely put the inside to shame.

Pee-ew, it stunk!

The frequent stops kept us from road-weariness,

but everyone was excited to arrive, explore and take a few days off from the check-ins and outs, and the need to constantly empty a refrigerator.

Talk about contrasts… we drove from the desert landscapes of Spain, where they once filmed Spaghetti Westerns, and wound our way up… literally along the 2022 Tour de France route…

through lush pasture lands to stand in the clouds

and wait for the traffic to moooooove.

24 hours did not pass before we started talking about extending our trip. Maybe all this time on the plains of Spain, or maybe because the scenery really was sublime, either way, we booked the best option we could find for an additional week. There was simply too much to take in, hard as we tried, as full as we filled each day.

We sampled all the cheese(balls) and continued eliminating any doubt we were tourists.

We even returned to Lourdes for another special encounter and a healing that kept Lucy comfortably on Ken’s strained back for another week of hiking.

St. Bernadette, pray for us.

SLOW DOWN!

We don’t need to rush it.

Savor the milestone moments!

Jane completed a full year of weekly lessons and participated in the school’s violin club, culminating in her first public recitals. She sounded great and seemed completely at ease during her performance. We were gushing watching her take that big, brave step.

The girls drove off with dad for the last time as DGF students. In September, Jane, Rose and Cate, are transitioning to a local ALL GIRLS (!) school where they will have opportunities to strengthen and grow their faith, while integrating into the broader community. Read: Spanish immersion. Grit your teeth ladies, but don’t forget to roll your tongues… gird your flamenco dresses, and say a prayer…. Dios te bendiga!

Meanwhile, Lucy and I enjoyed our final quiet breakfast together for a few months (the silence broken only by the sound of her shoveling it in),

before early dismissal beckoned and the playdate floodgates burst open!

Our little pool,

the deep freezer,

and pantry saw A LOT of action during June and July. If a picture were worth a thousand unwritten words, this would just about capture June and July at our house.

We left home and friends behind for a couple of weeks and neither words nor the images quite capture the beauty of the mountains or the grit of our girls. But that post will speak for itself… as best as it can!

Lucy: “Happy birthday…”

Lucy: “tooooooooo…”

Lucy: “meeeeeeee.”

At one, she has already given birth to a new, exuberant Lucille Ball fan base,

and generated a few royalties for the comedian’s estate.

Our Lucy Ricardo spends lots of time in the high chair growing her meatball,

and trying to create an excuse to get into the bath tub.

Basically, she works up an appetite in the time it takes us to clean up her last, make that, perpetual mess.

She fits right in.

Lucy: “Wait a minute! How did you put that together?”

Lucy: “If you’re so smart, why aren’t you leading the straw tutorial?”

The year-old ball and chain…

isn’t that at all. She is actually the epicenter of affection and attention in our household, and together we are constantly working to make Lucy smile,

take a few steps

and I confess, sleep.

A ball of energy, yes my dear.

A goof ball, absolutely.

A curve ball…

knocked out of the park for a grand slam!

The girls simply could not wait for her to dive into that cake.

But that is exactly what Lucy made them do. Wait.

Pick. Wait some more.

Beg.

At last, with a lot of encouragement.

Lucy: “Is this the mess you needed?”

It is. You are exactly what we desperately needed.

A little young to be hobbling around the kitchen making applesauce… cap the growth on this girl!

Rose enjoyed THE BEST school year, in-person first grade. She bounded out the door each morning (except the day she caught her toes in the door) with an exuberance I wasn’t sure school would ever rouse. She brought her big sister caretaking with her, made sweet friends and emerged a self-motivated, book-loving learner!

So when it came time to celebrate year seven and welcome eight… we went a little overboard!

No, Rose did not choose to party in Huelva where Columbus launched and ship replicas are on display, but it’s along the route so we stretched our highway legs and had a look around.

Instead, she picked Zoomarine for a day of waterslides and attractions everyone was happy to take part in.

Kind of.

Lucy: “Hey girls! Wait for me…”

Lucy: “I’ve got my new duds on, pretty in pink, I’m coming in!”

Parents: “It’s ice cold! The suit is merely for protection from the UV rays.”

Lucy: “Ouch. Remind me not to come here for my big day.”

Crackers and spectating.

Lucy and I patrolled the wedgies while the girls and Ken rode the slides and stayed damp all day.

Another birthday in the books? Not quite.

For all the Nancy Drew and Geronimo Stilton stories read in this house… clue detection seems to slip right past them.

Ken rinsing the patio and setting up tables and chairs?

Cases of drinks stacked on the floor?

Lucy: “Party! Party! Wake up, sis! They are throwing you a surprise PARTY!!”

Rose: “What are you babbling on about?”

A trip to the pizzeria for a two-week supply? No red flags apparently.

“Happy Birthday!”

Ken’s “Are you sure about this?” face registering the knife set I picked out for my sous-chef. I saw it on him when I suggested we throw a birthday party too.

Rose waited patiently for presents, and most everything else this year, growing older in the shadow of the baby sister she absolutely adores. Which is why when cumulative sleep deprivation speaks, you listen, and throw the party. Some years, when made easier by a very special girl, beg to be memorialized with games, friends, treats…. and of course, a little trick!

We prepared the girls for a year of “birthday experiences” in lieu of birthday gifts. We are at capacity with the toys in our house, even the girls can see that after a little truth serum. But teeing off with Cate was hardly ideal. She wanted nothing to do with this new arrangement. We factored in her age and negotiated gift expectations down as low as we could.

Cate: “I am up early (as usual) and I will scrutinize every effort made on my behalf today starting with these decorations.”

Crashing the party preparations… Little Lucy. Back when she could be contained by bins alone.

When a whisk was all the distraction she needed to get a cake baked. These days she could use it to pick the lock on the baby gate.

Fortunately, Ken and her all-star teacher managed the classroom celebration.

I’d vote for kinder retention simply to keep the dynamic duo together. These two made the sweetest connection, I couldn’t dream up a teacher that would love and encourage Cate better than Ms. Flake.

Lucy needed all the utensils in the holder to get through dinner prep. I never once wished for a Golden Corral, until Cate listed her menu preferences.

Age six. All business.

Cate: “I like what I see.”

Cate: “Nice color on the gravy, not too dark.”

Cate: “Oops, the effervescence is a little strong on the sparkling juice. You’ll want to manage the bottle a little more delicately next time.”

Ready to report us to the authorities.

And she had a case. I won’t be proud of this effort when the future family historians compare the 2022 celebrations. Or next week, when Rose’s birthday pics are posted.

6th birthday earns you… a trip to Jane’s riding lesson to admire the puppies we will never take home.

That’s a trick we could play on Lucy… but even with Cate’s joyful spirit it was a stretch.

Birthday experience? An hour the following Saturday at the local trampoline park. (I’m paralyzed by a guilty cringe).

Our “generosity” rubbed off on Rose, who gifted Cate a picture and the use of her lint-covered squishy for 72 hours.

We did spring for helium.

Wishing we never went down this road?

I’m pretty sure she received too many gifts to call it a success, or to set the bar reasonably close to where we’d like it for Rose and Jane. But it’s a start.

Thank you cheerful, generous Cate, for the loving words you speak, the pictures you draw, and the those glorious hugs as tight as your arms can hold us! And without a doubt, you were meant to be a big sister.

Part 3: Segovia and Toledo

I didn’t even try to capture everything… and still the picture editing continues.

We drove from Salamanca and Avila to Segovia, then finished the marathon in Toledo.

Segovia is renowned for it’s impressive Roman aqueduct, Alcazar and Cathedral. All of which we walked,

climbed and skipped thousands of cold, dreary steps to see.

But it’s all good, right?

We even took a little downhill trek to visit the remains of St. John of the Cross, modestly tucked away in a small church outside the city walls.

Fitting for the heroically austere priest, poet and Doctor of the Church.

No problem, it was all downhill… until we went back uphill to the palace.

I can’t help but feel as if she meant for me to be on the other side of the cannon. Lunch is next, I swear!

Only our teasing of the “suckling pig,” caught their attention. We assumed it would go down as quickly and confidently as the chuleton… until we actually Googled the meaning. Our three little pigs… no matter their hunger level, would not possibly want to eat piglets. So we let them in on our discover gently, long before placing our lunch order. Revulsion, horror, heartbreak all registered simultaneously. Five minutes pass and Jane announces, “I’d still like to try it.”

When in Segovia… you see all the sights, and apparently, shamelessly eat Peppa.

That’s not all you eat. There’s no such thing as a free aqueduct tour with your kids.

Cash or credit?

The sock gloves came off.

We needed some amazing grace to finish this race… the load-bearing/baby-wearing was beginning to strain the team captain.

The girls started trying to get us kicked out at the Escorial…

Parents: “This is a palace and a monastery!!! Where are you???”

Of course.

By Toledo they were plotting an armed rebellion.

We managed a strong finish with artwork featuring El Greco and an astounding sanctuary.

But there comes a point, for us it was Friday lunchtime, when even the grownups can’t bring themselves to enter another historic building.

So we made our way around Toledo, literally.

Then bravely zipped over the river…

And grabbed Cate before she went through the wrong kind of “woods.”

If that was the way to get to grandmother’s house, these three would gladly set off. Ken and I really enjoyed the sights; however, we set the vacation bar admittedly low on this trip. I’m pretty confident that when we hit the road again next month for what should be another great adventure… they may be willing to trust us with their next spring break.

Part 2: Avila

Oh the weather! Spring rains followed us to Avila, as we walked in the footsteps to Spain’s Patroness, St. Teresa. It is the 400th jubilee of the reformer, mystic, author and doctor of the Church.

Add mediator. A big fight erupted over the carnation in statue’s hand.

Forced smiles for a mom moment.

Our self-guided tour took us through the church and museum the first afternoon,

and her primary monastery, where she spent the majority of her religious life before beginning her reforms, the following day.

Cate motioning the size of the chuleton we ate for lunch.

It’s a miracle we didn’t damage the wall’s foundation waddling around after that feast.

Ken: “C’mon girls, more relics and archives this way!”

Their hiding place will improve once the leaves sprout.

During our gift shop visit the girls received bags of broken, unconsecrated host pieces. I keep reminding them where they can find a lifetime supply…

Girls: “Run! Run for you lives! They are going to lock us in the cloister!”

Parents: “Comeback! The Semana Santa floats are on display in the cathedral! This is big!”

A display that actually appeals to them.

So we made time for both. That’s the beauty of Catholicism, merging contraries. It’s the both/and religion. Scripture and tradition… faith and reason… grace and nature.

It’s a shame they’ll probably only remember the cookies and ribeye.

Or will they… ?

Part 1: Caceres, Salamanca

Lucy is christened a gypsy.

9 days, 5 different hotels, more destinations than any numeric configuration could allow… that sounds like a brilliant plan hatched by adults with twenty years combined parenting experience.

Spring break traveling with kids, a baby, and an awful weather forecast. Meet your intellectual power couple.

For once I was happy to carry their coats. I am not made for the middle ages, or anything below seventy degrees. The girls on the other hand… had to be talked out of making snow angels in leggings at one point on the trip.

Ask them, they’ll tell you the snow was their favorite part. Ten minutes in heaven out of a week and a half.

Parents: “So you’re saying… feeling bone cold was better than anything else on the trip?”

Snowball to the heart.

Was the trip educational? We toured the University of Salamanca and learned how to baby proof every Airbnb we entered.

Was it kid friendly? We were very nice to them. Does any of that count?

Essentially they were troopers for a trip centered around mom and dad’s Spanish bucket list. The weather was perfect for cathedral and palace tours, art exhibits, history museums, and very little else.

We christened our legs in the old city of Caceres on our way to central Spain.

A small impression until we were forced to consume a kilo of palmeras in order to use the sticky plastic bag to pack Lucy out. Blown out on the trail. I can’t see a palmera without thinking of the incident. Thankfully, they still hold appeal.

Once we managed logistics each day, it was great to be tourists again.

Yes, TOURISTS. We stand out, we turn heads. Travelers stare at us.

And what did we learn in the famous university town?

Nothing new, but a good reminder. The girls do not need “entertaining,” only goals. How many towers can we visit in Salamanca? Leave no stair unstepped!

If the spiral staircases could talk (and you were able to hear them above the roar of the girls),

only the adults were grumbling.

We took some well-deserved breaks.

There is only so much architecture a child with a filled croissant can absorb. Rose would not abandon her immediate view to consider the Pontifical University towering behind her.

That’s fine, she ignored the street performances too. We all tried to.

We used the backdrop to engage them in important catechesis,

and lunch to tell the loaves and fishes story.

It’s okay if you drop one Lucy, we can still feed the 5,000.

Lucy: “You are pulling this as soon as you take the photos, aren’t you?”

Parents: “Not with that defensive posture. I think this is one where we hurry to eat as much of our lunch as we can until you gag on a big piece.”

Our version of the Amazing Race continues… to Avila next!