Four Item Plate

On one of those overwhelming days (which as far as you're concerned happens once in a blue moon) when I may have been heard to say, "Four children? What was I thinking? I'm not so sure I can do this," my very wise and extremely patient husband said, "It's like the four item plate."

What the heck? What are you talking about?

He continued to explain (and I'm paraphrasing this Brianism): "When ordering Chinese fast food, you think to yourself, 'one item isn't enough, two items is good, but maybe for a little variety I'll order three items.'
Then you see that the four item plate is only 25 cents more, so you go for it. At some inevitable point during the course of your meal, you wonder if four items is just too much. But you've already gotten yourself into this and you don't want to waste anything, so you just do it even though you feel pretty sick and self-conscious." (So, this is the thought process behind a man's eating patterns? I don't understand it, it's Chinese to me.)

And so it is. I've ordered myself the four item plate and at times just feel sick like I'm not quite good enough to finish it up, to be the kind of mother these children deserve. It helps me revere those women who have ordered the buffet and get like 6 or 8 items or more, a decision bordering on the saintly and the insane.

But there is that little fortune cookie at the end with the little nugget of wisdom that most likely says something like, "You will be successful in your efforts" or "Your many hidden talents will become obvious to those around you."
In that case, it doesn't really help that one of our (embarrassing) family traditions is to tag the line, "on the toilet" to the end of our fortunes. Can I ever win? Maybe if my fortune turns out to be,
"Don't ask. Don't say. Everything lies in silence..."

What would I do if these children weren't so gracious and forgiving of my many mistakes? By virtue of that alone, how could I not but love them with everything that I am?
To put it in perspective, the sacrifices required to be a mother are minute compared to the enormous blessings in this life and the next. And wherever I am truly deficient, there's always therapy.

Horse Around

Santi attended Horse Camp last week. Other than riding on a pony at the fair or horseback riding on South Padre, it's something she's never really done before. And those aforementioned times, the pony was tied or her horse was drawn by someone else while she rode. So for her to put aside fears of the unknown, dig in and do something out of her comfort zone was particularly impressive to us. We're so proud of her.

Hawk was Santi's horse for the week. Boy did this horse have plans, plans that didn't include cooperating with a timid and somewhat nervous rider. Hawk had every intention of doing the opposite of Santi's command. Santi sometimes came home frustrated and exasperated with the personality of her horse, but she worked really well with him toward the end of the week.

Let's face it, grooming a horse was not on Santi's top ten list of things to do in her life. It turned out to be her least favorite responsibility of the week. Something about having to stick the brush into the horse's nostrils, or something. 

Santi was lucky enough to attend camp with our neighbor and her BFF. So glad these girls have each other to pal around.

Abby and Santi showing Aboy where to pet the beast. Abram was all eyes and could not stop asking when he would get to ride the horse. I'm serious, he would NOT stop. His little voice is heard on all the parents' home videos saying, "Mom, Mom, Mommy, Mom... I ride the horse too, right? First Santi's turn, then it's my turn."

Santi leading her horse out to the arena. She's so tiny.

Santi mounting Hawk bareback. Each of the children had a choice to show English, Western, or Bareback. I was quite impressed that Santi chose to exhibit bareback. She said, "Yeah, it's hard to put the sadles on and take them off, so I just picked bareback." Nice to hear her source of inspiration. 

According to her teacher who has some 20 years experience teaching has never had a student of any age mount bareback alone on the first try, until little Santi. (So that dolphin kick from swimming really did come in handy. I'm just saying. It couldn't have hurt.)

After the show, Santi was pleased to have done well and I think a little relieved to not have to brush down her horse again.

I shouldn't be at all surprised that Aboy used his school boy charm to win himself a brief ride on one of the ponies. He's very pleased with himself, as you can see.

All of the kids in Santi's class receiving their certificates.

Santi receiving her certificate of completion, an award she truly worked hard for.

Seeing her out in the arena, I really couldn't believe she was out there on her own. I was speechless. Not sure whether it's something she'll ever do again. I think the lessons and newly gained confidence will stay with her though. Man, this girl can do anything if she really wants to. I wonder what will happen when she finally figures that out for herself. I'll be watching.