The Girl Likes to Climb

      If you're a parent of young kids, you may have caught yourself wondering what his or her "thing" might be some day.  Maybe he's two and loves trains - and you thought, "Oh, a train conductor!"  Or he loves to line up cars in convoluted traffic patterns and you thought, "that person who rides in the helicopter and tells people about traffic (which I think is all done electronically now)."  Or maybe you thought, "a shoe salesperson" because she loves to try on shoes.  Whatever the oddity, you may have considered their future. No, not plan their life out, but imagine what they'll be, or do.  I love to do it, and it changes regularly, especially with Lydia who always surprises me.  It's fun to look at her personality at 6, and then guess what would suit her.  Of course, I would be wrong, but there are those people who can say, "I KNEW at age 5, I wanted to be a . . . ".  That wasn't me, and I'm guessing it won't be any of my kids.  But, it's still a fun game.
    Lydia's funny though. She's tasted a few sporty activities, but nothing that she just loved.  She's got a lot of years to find the hobby that will be called hers, but for now, I'm going with adventurer.  Why would I say that when anyone who knows her considers her quiet and shy?  Well, the girl likes to climb.   Jungle gyms, play houses, stop signs, trees - and she's pretty quick about it. Actually more so than her brother.
    Quick story.  I was at the park with Elijah, his friend and Lydia.  His friend climbed up a pretty high jungle gym and just sat at the top.  Lydia shimmied her way up as well and they sat there, and she bragged that she did it so quickly.  Elijah, bless his little heart, tried several times to make his way up, but he couldn't quite balance his body.  After I tried but failed to hold his weight to help him, he decided to stop and said, "I don't think climbing is my talent."  Isn't that so funny? His talent. He really thought about that one.
    So, what future do you see in climbing? Any ideas?  With the exception of Kenny's stern warning that she must in all cases, "stay off the pole" if you know what I mean, climbing is her thing, for now. And maybe by the 2028 Olympics some event will have been invented that uses climbing skills.  You never know, a parent can only dream.

Sometimes, you just gotta say Yes

    This picture wasn't taken today, but several weeks ago when Lanie and I were at Walmart, a place I'm never fond of going, but it happened to be the nearest BIG store at the right time.  It is interesting that Target doesn't have the tempting electronic horse and crane on the way out of the store.  I love Target for that and for so many other reasons.  But this post isn't about comparing chain stores.  It's about my constant NO when it comes to said electronic horse ride, and my usual promise, "Maybe another time."  Well, this particular day, for whatever reason,  I said yes, much to the joy of this little girl who for some reason I can't remember has spilled something all down her shirt.  It must have been an all YES day and she also got the big drink she begged for.  I don't know, but with summer here and 3 kids to entertain, I'm betting on a lot of YES days.  Don't judge me too harshly though,  I'll be back to NO in time.  But with her happy smile after a measly 3 second ride on a 50 cent bucking bronco, I'm okay with it. Sometimes you just gotta say YES.

Our Memorial Weekend

   Memorial Day Fun Fact:  Memorial Day was originally observed to honor the Union soldiers who died during the Civil War.  It did not expand to all fallen soldiers until after World War I and did not become a federal holiday until 1967.  Thanks to About.Com (didn't go far in my researching), I at least know more about what we are celebrating besides the first day the neighborhood pool opens.  In our house, it's the first official holiday before our first, true day of summer.  First day for parochial school goers, but not for the public schools around us who have a good 3 or 4 more days until the "no more teachers, no more books . . . " chant.  We're feeling a bit special and free of crowds for the next few days.  But, it all comes back to bite us in August when we start 3 days early. Argh.
   I am so happy to say that our weekend was very, very relaxed.  Slept late, lots of independent kid play, and me getting so much done.  Oh, and we swam, a lot - each day of the weekend, a different pool.   At this rate, they'll be sick of water by July.   I hope not, because that's pretty much our summer go-to plan.  And as per tradition, we also spent our Memorial Day celebrating with the Hergenraders.  I love our trips to their house.  The kids are totally happy and we get to enjoy them and their great outdoors. 
   I can't settle on just one pic of the weekend so, I'll paste the highlights.  See if you can guess the theme.

Hope your Memorial Day was happy and as water-logged as ours.

Perfect Attendance!

Remember the posts about the fury of the commute to LSA?  Remember the stressed out kid who worried he would get a tardy?  It all came to pass today and we received an award, I mean Elijah and Lanie received a PERFECT ATTENDANCE award, but it sure feels like mine and Kenny's. Totally a family effort and lucky that the only sickness Elijah had was during Christmas break and any sick days Lanie had skipped her Tuesday/Thursday school days.  Poor Lydia who had pneumonia for a week didn't get to partake in the award winning walk to the front of the audience, but if one of these years her immune system can hold out - she'll get her chance - because as long as we have our perfect attendance competitor in the family, we'll be making that 70 mph + beltway morning rush.

But now -- we'll take a break.
Happy LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!

A Child's Prayers

   Every night, we give the kids a chance to say their own prayer.  Lanie and Lydia are always the first to raise their hands and they always start with, "Thank you God for this wonderful day. . ." followed up with really random things about their day.  It seems for the past year Elijah usually passes and rushes to our long list of "God Bless . . . ".  But the past few nights, things have been different.  I don't know if it's because we started trying a family devotion book, which happens to be the same devotion book they do at school, or because he's been listening to the Bible readings and discussions at school, but he's been totally interested and willing to pray in a way that is surprisingly more real than I ever gave him credit. 
    As I was going through the hundreds of things he brought home in his backpack from the last day of school, I found his prayer bag.  Each student had a bag on the wall and could write prayers throughout the year and stick them in there.  I haven't yet asked if the teacher read them out loud during devotions or they were just silent ones, but I was a bit touched by some of the people he remembered. Most of them seemed to be for his dad:  "Please help my dad have fun in Haiti", "Please help my dad's mouth feel better from his wisdom teeth."  He included my uncle who has been really sick and our friend who had knee surgery.  It was a 2nd grader's prayer list, nothing too deep, but a relief to see that what we talk about at night makes it to school and what faith-based things he's getting at school, makes it home. Not sure that relief is the right word, but really refreshing.
    

Last Lanie Day

  Because tomorrow and the next are Field Day and Last Day of School Activities, today - Wednesday is my last Lanie day before the troops are home each and every summer day.  I've enjoyed my days with her, mostly.  Despite her ongoing bladder issues that seem to multiply when just hanging out at home, we enjoy taking things a little slower.  We go places, but rush less.  Sometimes we make it to all the errands I had planned, often we don't.  Today was one of those "don't" days.  We thought we'd go to the gym, but we didn't.  Then we thought we'd go to the splash park, but we didn't.  We ended up on our floor with TROUBLE and Wack-a-Mole and Princess puzzles and all the while, me on the side putting teacher gifts together and texting back and forth with people making later plans.  And I knew the whole time, on this "last" day with just her and me, that trying to divide my attention between what I needed to get done, and just being present with her was wrong. 
    So, we got out.  We dusted off the stroller that never gets used, went for a long walk, found a blue speckled bird egg on the way, then stopped at the park. She ran and danced and sang, and I told her a story about a little girl who was growing up, about to turn 4.
    It was nice.  Just her - just me. 
  

The Ice Cream Van

                       

   Ah!  Summertime - kids dressed in their Sunday best surrounding a cute white ice cream truck with a cleverly dressed ice cream man, the father in the corner doling out change to his son, and the mother supervising it all from the front of her nicely manicured lawn. I love it!  I will be honest with you, It's not my neighborhood at all, but I like to think that maybe, at one point in time, this is how it was.    

   Don't get me wrong, we still have ice cream trucks roll through our neighborhood, but the look, the feel is much, much different.  Since we've moved into our house some 10 years ago, the same truck (I guess) plays the same song over and over again and slowly passes our street in spring, summer, and some fall, often later into the night when the kids are getting ready for bed.  But instead of escorting the kids out to the street, or (what I remember from of old) racing the truck down with my bike to get a 3-flavor sno-cone or a rocket pop, or a bullet, we just watch the shady truck go by.  Luckily, our neighbor has no problem with the random, dented-in van because if he hadn't stopped him this warm, almost summer, night, I might not have snapped this picture.  

    I have a friend who uses this excuse with her kids (as to why they can't get ice cream):  "Those kids just don't have ice cream at home."  That cracks me up.  What happens when that logic falls through and you really don't have ice cream at home? What then?

    Maybe I'm being judgmental about the ice cream van. Everyone has to earn a living and what better job than supplying sugary frozen treats that makes kids happy. It's a good gig.  And while I grow old of the same jingle played throughout the night, I am glad some traditions haven't disappeared.  I just wish our ice cream man would paint his truck, wear a spiffy white suit and hat, and get a new play list.  Maybe then I'd let the kids rush out (like they so want to do), run down the ice cream van, and get their push-up pop. And who knows, maybe by the end of the summer, when our freezer is empty of Blue Bell and Flav-R-Ice, I'll bend.  Who knows?  A Rocket Pop with all it's 4th of July colors, sure sounds tasty right about now.   

The Agony and the Ecstasy

    
      It's been a long baseball season.  A long, aching baseball season.  I wasn't prepared for the stress on my heart when I let Elijah play spring ball.  In my past life, activities I was involved in had BIG, once, or twice-a-year competitions that caused the sickly, nervous stomach. The rest of the year was practice, practice, practice for that one event that held all the marbles.  Baseball, not at all the same.  And of course I knew that but I was certainly a rookie parent this season.  After only 4 wins and 9, "are you kidding, again?!" losses, I have learned a little about myself.  I'm not so good at watching these young boys, who work so hard and do so well at practice, get on the field and either A) lose by 1 run and a few bad calls, B) start strong, lose confidence, freeze up and lose at the end, or C) get creamed from the get-go.  I think of the pressure put on these little men to achieve, to live up to their potential, and to, for goodness sakes, just let go when a mistake is made.  That's Elijah -- he was consistently good at his position and at the bat, but one error would send his confidence to tears, tears he would try hiding at the end of the game while he buried his head in my side.
    I wanted each boy to have success, to be boosted up, that when they didn't, and I saw their face fall, or heard a parent nearby disappointed for them, not in them, just for them, I just nearly had to walk away from the stands.  And I also learned I'm a parent who gets easily worked up at bad calls.  I never wanted to be someone who yelled, "Come on, ump! What are you doing!?" at a game, so again, I'm learning to just walk away, watch from a distance.  I'm just not cut out for this every week. 
   So, meeting at the field for our last regular game against The Mets, a 3rd place team, you can imagine we were all ready to cheer on our Yankees, but prepared for the worse.  We'd just had some pretty rough games where our defense was awesome, but there was no power at the bats, so a few nights before, they spent an entire practice with the machine.  Coach even told them not to bring a glove.  
   Somehow, that batting practice paid off.  At this last game, our defense was on fire - and every kid from the top of the line-up to the end of the line-up was hitting the ball.  Wow.  It was fun, really fun, and once we got at least 5 runs ahead, there was no icky stomach, no stressed heart. If I could have bottled the coaches joy, the parents' giddiness, and the boys' pride, I would. There is something to be said about winning, or watching your child win.  You feel good for them. 
   And of course, there is something to be said about losing, because we all know the moral to the story.  Without those 9 losses, this 1 win would not have carried the weight it did, the joy, the ecstasy.

Comin' Up Cucumbers

We've tried tomatoes, peppers, grapes, strawberries, blueberries, and several spices - with only 1/2 of these crops successful, but today - we spotted our first cucumber.  And while farmers 'round the world turn up their noses at our little display of suburban gardening, we are pickled green.  That is to say, we're tickled pink.
Oh, what's a little Friday veggie humor.  
 

My Michigan Friend

Sharla, Kerri and I (& the nice Chick-Fil-A worker peering behind us)

      I met my friend Kerri just a few months before Elijah was born.  We went to the same church and she had a 1 year-old girl.   She loaned me some maternity shorts that I most definitely over-wore. Then, just a few days after Elijah was born, she brought me a home-cooked meal and while I can't remember what the meal was, I do remember that she included orange jello with oranges.  I LOVE jello with fruit - it was a staple at my college dining hall and a must-have at any good Lutheran potluck.  We bonded over jello.
      After two kids each, and many years in the same Bible study, we bonded over much more than jello, like whiskey sours, board games, Gilmore Girls, 24 Hour fitness, small Christian college stories, camp counselor stories, HIMYM, tent-building (she probably doesn't remember this one), and silly church camp songs.  She is dear to me and when she shared with our small group back in 2008 that she wanted to go back to cold, cold Michigan closer to home, and work at her college in the most perfect job that used her talents and skills, I won't lie and say I wasn't crushed. It's hard to let someone chase a dream when you know it's going to be so hard to say goodbye.
      And a few months later, in the thick of summer, after many, many good-byes and tears, they got in their van and left.  And I was left with baby #3 to have and no one to bring me jello, with fruit.
      It's been almost 4 years now since the Allen family left Texas, but just like God intends it, when a good friend steps back into your life for a few days, you just pick up like time hasn't passed.  And when Kerri and her kids came this past weekend for Mother's Day, that's what we did. We left our kids to reunite with each other, and we gathered with old girl friends, and bonded over some wine, a good meal and some great conversation. No jello this time, but we did have jelly beans.  And that's pretty close. 

  

Don't You Wanna Dance?

 
  "Don't You Wanna Dance?" was the title to this year's dance recital, and well, to be honest, watching kids tip tap, shake their booties, and hip hop did create some yesteryear memories in me and did, actually make me want to dance.  If I thought I'd get an audience, I would have gone home and pulled out some old dancing videos, scratchy and shaky film quality included.
     In all the dance recitals I've been to, this was the first one I've sat through in its entirety.  Back in the day, I got to be on the other side of the stage, playing around in the dressing room, or running the halls with my friends.  It was a very free, very fun time and nothing like what I experienced now as a parent of a dancer. The strict rules and regulations with drop off and pick up were, I suppose, good for the safety of all the kids, but sad that they were needed.  I regret that the studio brats, the ones who live at the dance studio on a regular basis and performed numerous times, wouldn't get to experience hanging out on the wings of the stage as if they ran the joint, rummaging around in rooms off limits, and hiding in the very last row of the auditorium telling secrets, and eating smuggled snacks.  No, there is no way those young dancers got to do that.  They had a different kind of fun, I'm sure, but very benign, and closely watched.
     But for now, being "closely watched" was exactly what my 3-year-old needed.  With her, ahem, potty problem, she needed her own personal attendant.  And since I had to drop her off and not see her for 3 1/2 hours, I had to put her bathroom habits into the hands of a room mom that I did not know.  And because pick-up was so formal and rushed, I haven't a clue as to how it all went.  And without being too tell-all, I will share that her tights and costume did have to be washed.
    To bring it all back to the positive,  my old-school thoughts on dance recitals, the regimented new protocol, and Lanie's small bladder, could not have clouded how exciting it was, how proud I was to see my girls on stage tapping away, doing their best to remember the dance without careening their neck to watch their teacher in the wings. Lydia "Rock(ed) Around the Clock" with the biggest smile on her face, and Lanie truly stole the show, as all the littlest dancers do, enjoying the limelight and shaking her tail feather to "Everybody Wants to be a Cat."
    After three hours of music and dancing, I don't think anyone could have left the auditorium without a little bit of lift to their feet, and warm heart for those shy kids who had their first bright-lights experience.  

    

Colorful Day!

"Don't miss all the beautiful colors of the rainbow, looking for that pot of gold."

When Lydia finally decided she wanted a COLORS, all kinds of COLORS birthday party, instead of a princess, barbie, strawberry shortcake, rock star, horse, spa, build-a-bear or jumpy birthday, it opened all kinds of doors for me, who enjoys, more than I should, thematic parties.  How easy it was to find all things colorful, and so bright and cheery - from crayola colors, to polka-dotted table cloths, to rainbow popcorn, to swirled cupcakes.  I have Chica and Joe's website to thank for teaching me how to make them, and so, so easy. If you are a regular attender at any Ward get-together, be prepared for them often. 


If you're wondering why Lydia's hair is up in a bun and plastered to her head, it's because we Wards like to punish ourselves with over-activity.  We timed Lydia's birthday party at Michael's Arts and Crafts store with just one hour in between to prepare for the big, first dance recital.  I won't give away tomorrow's post, but let's just say - I"m guessing no one else has ever put a tight dance costume and heavy make-up on a 3 and 6 year-old in a Michael's bathroom.  Always a first. 

Not to get too far ahead of myself, the birthday party went just as planned. The weeks leading up to it were a bit dicey since we invited far more girls to the party than the little room could hold, but God is good, and while I wasn't without stress, we had more than enough chairs.  And Lydia got to paint, decorate and fill her treasure boxes with all things colorful.  She got to eat her chicken nuggets, Sun Chips, and colorful sherbet ice-cream as she wished. And most importantly, she got to spend all that time with some of her favorite people giggling, and squealing.  I even watched from the corner of my eye, Lydia and several other girls trying to re-inact scenes from the movie ELF.  Something about eating spaghetti. Not sure about that one, but I loved getting to watch her totally in her element. 

When the evening that would never end, finally did end, and we were talking about our day, Lydia told me:  "That was the best party ever!"  I suppose when you have a 6-year-old, those may be the closest words to THANKS MOM that I could hear. And it was worth every last crayola color.

 --------------------------------------------------------

A few other favorite "color" quotes:


* "Orange is the happiest color."
* "Blushing is the color of virtue."
* "Beauty seen is never lost, God's colors are all fast."
* "Life is like a rainbow, you need the sun and the rain to make its colors appear."
* "Colors are the smiles of nature."
* "It ain't easy being green."

  

     

Many Thanks!

This past week and weekend were busy ones for the Wards, so very, very busy.  And we are all very, very tired. Luckily though, the busyness provided some great moments to capture on film and even greater writing material.

Besides a birthday party, dance recital, baseball game, mother's day, choir performance, and long-time friend visiting, what made the weekend special was that all 4 grandparents made the trek down to Houston - that's a good 21 to 22 hours combined.  And that is LOVE.

It's so unusual to have all 4 here at the same time, and they each bring such a different strength to the mix.  So to the grandparents, we say:

   To Mimi - thank you for taking the hardest job of all, applying Lanie's eye make-up, and for reminding me with Lydia, "She's only 6," and with Elijah, "It's just a game."

   To Papa Tex - thank you for your willingness to be the only male in a birthday party room full of screeching girls and search out glittery, pastel stickers and for being our pack-mule.

  To Grammie -thank you for your calm energy and perfect contrast to the chaotic energy of three attention-hungry kids and two stretched-thin parents.

  To Grandpa - thank you for being the sacrificial lamb forced to brave a Saturday at Chuck E. Cheese so Elijah wouldn't be forced to endure an "all girl" party.

And to all of you, thank you for the hours spent in uncomfortable seats watching 3 hours of baseball and 3 hours, plus of dancing.  We can only hope to have your energy and commitment when it's our turn to play the "fun" grandparent role.

We love you!
Jen and Kenny

From the eyes of Lydia, age 6

Today, Thursday, May 10th, I woke up a brand new 6-year-old with balloons in my bed and streamers on my door.  My Papa Tex asked me if I felt any different.  I don't. 

And even though it's not sugary cereal day (reserved for Tuesdays and Saturdays), I got to eat Fruity Pebbles for breakfast - thanks dad!

Last night my mom, my Mimi and I worked on these gift bags full of colored popcorn to give to my classmates.  I had to stand in front of my class while they sang to me - without the cha, cha, chas.  I was shy, but not nearly as shy as last year, when I wouldn't even look up at the camera or away from my teachers side. Guess I'm growing up.

       While my mom thinks 8 o'clock in the morning is not the greatest time to have sweet popcorn and Capri-Sun, I think she's wrong.  I loved it.  Some of my friends thought flavored popcorn was gross, but I think they are crazy.  

For lunch, my mom brought me McDonalds to eat and sat with me and my friends in the lunchroom.  We took a lot of silly pictures.
     





There was one snag in the day.  Mom locked her keys in the car (for the second time in a week).  Mom thinks she's going crazy.  We had to fetch a ride with some friends and don't tell anyone that I didn't have a car seat.  This took so long that we didn't get to see Grammie and Grandpa who had just gotten here from Nebraska and who had to drive up to the school with dad to save the van.  My sister and I had to rush to dance class.  Rush, Rush, Rush.  Sometimes that's all we do.  I'm not a fan of rushing.
    At dance class, we got our recital t-shirts. It's on Saturday.  My name is on the back.  Soo coool.  I put mine on, which was as long as a dress and wore it to my birthday dinner with all of my grandparents and my family.  I chose I-HOP.  My brother wanted me to choose Chuck. E. Cheese (of course), but I love pancakes for dinner. 

At dinner I got to open some presents but then RUSH, RUSH, RUSH, we had to go watch brother play baseball ON MY BIRTHDAY.  It was really, really late when we got home, but I opened up my presents anyway. I got lots of arts and crafts stuff and a pink CD player, some pretty dresses, and a Cuddle Uppet (As Seen On TV). I didn't think I was being any different, but my mom says that I was putting on the Lydia show. And what does "you're a ham" mean? 

All I know is I had a great day.  I LOVE birthdays!  My mom says I'm the luckiest girl in the world.  This time, she just may be right.

The Avengers

    It seems every other year on the first weekend of May,  a super hero movie comes out to start the summer blockbuster frenzy.  And since it's Kenny's birthday weekend as well, that's usually where you'll find us.  We've seen Iron Man I and II, Spiderman, and others I can't recall right now. 
   This year, it was Avengers.  Throw Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, the Hulk, Black Widow and some archer named Hawkeye together, and you've got a pretty entertaining evening.  And while I knew little about pretty boy Captain America, the man out of his time, or Norse god Thor, I had a great time watching the story unfold.  I get nervous watching action movies, but it's a fun nervous, a silly nervous. I think if it were in novel form, and not comic book form (which gives me a headache), I wouldn't be above checking it out from the library.
    If you haven't seen it yet, and are willing to throw out the cash, I recommend three things.  First, see it in a dinner theatre.  Hero movies are much more fun with a fruity drink and some chips and salsa. Second, don't leave the theatre until the credits have completely rolled.  Those funny Marvel comic guys keep it funny till the end. Third, don't be late.  You don't want to miss the summer previews.  They'll leave you itching to see The Dark Knight Rises and Spiderman, but most importantly, Pixar's Brave.  First Pixar movie with a heroine, Scottish at that.  I'm sure Kenny and I will run out to see that blockbuster (as we have every other Pixar movie).  Maybe we'll even splurge and bring the kids this time.
  



 

Thirty-Something

    Kenny celebrated another birthday yesterday - he's thirty-something, much closer to forty.  I'm 6 months older than him, so I'm happy just leaving it at that.
    I remember back when I watched bits and pieces of the show, Thirty-Something during their reruns, the characters seemed really grown up and had so many adult problems - unhappiness, infidelity, work issues, etc.  Now that I can call myself equal to them, in age anyway, I'm glad to see that life isn't quite as wrenching, or wrought with TV drama.   Not to say that there aren't hurdles, but my thirty-something years are, how do I say this without sounding like a beer commercial . . . the good life.
    Or better yet, 
    A Blessed life.
    And if I were to count them - I'd run out of fingers.
    So to my #1 -- Happy Birthday!
  
  

Some color in our lives

    Our "make things prettier" project has taken many, many Saturdays - pulling shrubs, moving rocks, creating a pathway, buying and finally, finally planting flowers.  I only wish I had a before picture to demonstrate the difference.  Instead, we are thrilled to see something besides overgrown green and in some cases, dead plants. 
   I don't think it'll win any neighborhood awards, but it sure makes my walk to the front door a whole lot happier.

Enjoy your weekend!  Hope it's full of color.

Natachees Supper and Punch

   Natachees Supper and Punch is now the Wards favorite kid-friendly restaurant of choice.  After hearing such great things about it for the past year, we finally made the trek to Mid-town. After a late baseball game, we met our friends, the Bremers there.  They had actually taken our two girls along with their 2 girls to Zoobilee that afternoon while Kenny and I watched an uninterrupted game of Elijah's.  Thank you Bremers!!

     So to exchange kids, we met at this wonderful place.  Because it was dark outside, my pictures came out mostly fuzzy, but I'm posting several any way, just to encourage you to go as well (but go before it's deadly hot).  We had a good supper, many choices, and had several fruity punches. The greatest surprise for me was the kid meals.  I was told ahead of time that all the meals come in old 1970's and 80's lunch boxes.  That sent our group reminiscing about the time when lunch boxes weren't insulated cloth, or even plastic, but truly old school, metal boxes.  I described my Holly Hobby lunch box of the past, a character mostly forgotten today.  Would you believe -- the lunch box they put in front of me was, drum roll - - - - Holly Hobby, decked out in her blue bonnet that I so fondly remember.  Of course I had to take a picture of it. 

    
     For entertainment they had a big sand box and a huge, gated yard where kids can just run and run and run. How smart they are!  And to top it off, a cover band plays most evenings on a wooden stage with a grassy ground in front for the parents and kids to dance the night away.  The weekend we went it was cool and breezy - a perfect night to listen to the Beatles band croon away while we shrugged off inhibitions and twisted and shouted.