We Bought a New Boat: But Why? The Method Behind our Madness (and a photo tour!)

"This boat is going to change our lives!" I exclaimed as we stepped on board the Tayana 48 that we would put an offer on less than 12 hours later.  Scott looked at me with wide eyes, "Um, I think you're putting a lot of pressure on this boat..." he started tentatively. While, yes, I probably was putting an undue amount of weight on the effect of a boat on our life, but I truly stood by what I said and I repeated myself: "Scott, this boat is literally going to change. our. life." He shrugged and shook his head as we continued lifting up floorboards and digging through cupboards.

But I knew it: this was the one.

I'd been eyeing her on Yachtworld for about five months and looked at the listing no fewer than 200 times, memorizing the specs and committing to memory every square inch of her.

She was absolutely beautiful, checked off just about every item on our "wish list" (more on this later) and, gosh darn it, she was going to change life as we knew it. I could feel it.

***

The bottom line is this: while Asante was working for us, she wasn't really working for us. Because of our two cabin configuration, and the fact that Isla slept more or less in the main cabin (on a make shift bunk that is smaller than a toddler bed) meant that once bedtime hit at 7:30pm, our boat was in shut-down mode. At anchor this arrangement was better - as our cockpit became a veritable outdoor living room and extension of our home. However, at the dock the cockpit simply does not get utilized as much due to the fact that a) there is a remarkable lack of breeze at our marina and b) being so close to your neighbor doesn't have quite the same appeal as sitting on deck being surrounded by open water. "Something about being in a marina makes a boat feel smaller" my friend Carly wrote as we chatted about it. And I 100% agreed. It most certainly does make a boat feel smaller....And since we will be living aboard at a marina for the foreseeable future, something needed to change. Not being able to cook, converse or do pretty much anything other than whisper and go our separate ways was taking its toll on our life in more ways than one.

Scott and I are what I like to call a "perfectly imperfect" pair. Okay, fine, we're downright volatile at times (I mentioned how I'd be honesty bombing you, right?) Don't get me wrong, we are an amazing team in both boating and parenting and we can accomplish a lot more together than alone, but our union is far from perfect which may or may not surprise you. Part of this is due to conflicting personalities and stubborn natures, part of it is simply this "season of life"...The last two years have found us drifting farther and farther apart. With three kids, two of them being twins, and the purchase of a new business, we have both been up to our eyeballs in everything but each other. I tend to the kids and housework, Scott runs our business. For the most part, we pass like ships in the night and can go days without really speaking about anything other than work or kids. We have not had a "date night" in years.

What is the point of me telling you all this? Well, we needed a change and we figured, why not buy another boat to fix our problems? Ha! Just kidding, that was not our thought process at all. BUT...we did have some serious discussions about our future, we both made a commitment to work on our marriage by carving out some together time and we both decided that, yes, a bigger boat *might just* give us the space to be a little more comfortable, provide the means for a little more quality time, and allow us more privacy together. Running a business and raising three very boisterous young daughters in a two-bedroom boat was getting tight at best, stressful at worst - and more breathing room was in order.

***

"What do you think about flying to the east coast for a day to look at that boat I sent to you earlier?" I asked Scott over Whatsapp one day this summer while we were home at my mom's house. To my great surprise, he replied "Sure" (Scott is for sure the more pragmatic of our duo). And so it was; we had a 48 hour window between us coming home from Michigan and Scott heading back to Tortola to make it happen. It was rushed, it was nuts, but we did it and with Isla in tow (you have never seen a little kid more excited about getting her own "big girl room"!). We covered three states and saw four boats in less than 24 hours. The Tayana 48 - the one that I knew was 'it' and the one I was certain would shine above the others - was last to be seen.

When stepped aboard s/v Legato on that gray, overcast day in Connecticut it just felt right. Excitement swelled up in my belly and I took a quick deep breath to keep it at bay. "Don't fall in love, don't fall in love, don't fall in love" I kept telling myself, "Asante could definitely work for one more season if this isn't the one...Do. Not. Fall. In.  Love. With. This. Boat." But, as we all know, matters of the heart are simply not controlled with the head (oh, if only it were that easy!) We both knew it, though. I don't dare say she was "perfect" but she was pretty dang close. She felt instantly like 'home'. I found it no coincidence that a copy of one of my all-time favorite books, "Don't Stop the Carnival", happened to be laying on what would soon become my side of the bed.

***

The next morning as we were rushing out of our hotel to catch our flight home, I got a call from our broker (and longtime friend), Allen Schiller (best. broker. ever), letting us know that if we wanted the boat, we needed to move fast. One offer had come in and been denied earlier in the week, and another couple had a second viewing right after we did and were most likely putting together an offer as well. My gut told me she was going to go, and she was going to go quickly.  I wanted it to be us. After a quick talk with Scott and Isla at our sleepy terminal in Hartford, Connecticut, we agreed to go for it. "Let's do it," I texted Allen, "Let's put in an offer". By the time we landed in Chicago, we were under contract.

And thank god for it! Mere hours after we had a deal, another offer came in for 5K more than ours. Hours later! Talk about lucky. Timing truly is everything. Thankfully the owner was a man of good character and continued to honor our deal, but it was pretty incredible to think we were so close to losing this boat that is now our beloved 'home sweet home'. Sometimes, you need to move fast.

***

She arrived a week before Christmas (Plug for fantastic human: if you need a delivery captain, look no further than the incredible Andrew Burton! He is not only professional and accomplished, but an awesome person to boot. As if that's not enough, the boat was impeccable when we took her over, he and his crew deep-cleaned her head to toe!) and we began the crazy process of moving from one boat to another. It was... nuts. There's really no other way to describe it. Moving house (or boat, rather) while simultaneously trying to make Christmas "magical" for our three kids was exhausting and stressful. Scott was working all hours trying to finalize the new online booking system for our business (much easier said than done!) and I was doing Christmas crafts, buying presents, and doing all the other stuff necessary to keep our home(s) in order. We pushed on and persisted, and in the end felt very lucky that our situation was about as ideal as could be: our new boat was docked next to Asante, we had plenty of time to move our personal effects from A to B, we purged a LOT of accumulated junk, and so many friends and family came to our aid to help us with the move and with the girls. All in all, we had it pretty awesome. Despite these perks, moving is no fun. Moving with three little kids nipping at your heels? 9th circle of Hell. PERIOD.

I digress...

So how are we doing in our new boat?

In a word: Amazing.

We love her. I think I say how much I love her to Scott every single day. She has, indeed, been life-changing, just as I imagined her to be.

Her name has a musical connotation and means "in a smooth flowing manner, without breaks between notes." In Italian, Legato means: tied together. I think it's a pretty nice name for a family boat, and we have no plans to change it. Partly because the name is not terrible, mostly because we're lazy. Her perks are great: she is much more roomy than our last boat and the addition of the third cabin has been everything we imagined it would be. WE HAVE THREE BEDROOMS!!! Isla has her own room now and she is positively ecstatic about it. The twins share the bunk room (although, despite having two beds they opt to both sleep together on the top bunk - how adorable is that?) and everyone has their own little space now. The addition of not only one, but TWO stand-up separate showers has also been life-changing; prior to this boat the girls and I would shower off the back deck with a cold water hose, and Scott would have to walk to the marina showers (no where near as often as necessary, mind you!) Not that big of an issue, and at the time it certainly didn't seem like a deal breaker - but being able to take warm showers on our boat and not on-deck has been truly AMAZING. The list of features that we love (centerline queen aft berth, an aft cabin that is large and spacious, a nav station that doubles as a desk...etc.) goes on and on...we love this boat. Love her.

***

So what were our other desires when boat shopping this time around? We wanted a monohull under 50 feet, largely for cost reasons but also because if we wanted a ton of space we'd get a condo. We like living "cozy" and we wanted to get the smallest boat that would give our family the space it needed to be comfortable. 48 feet worked out to be just right for us. Small enough to go anywhere and still be manageable, but big enough to give our growing family of five some individual space. We wanted three cabins, an in-boom roller furling main, great sailing performance (she is a dream to sail!) at least one separate stand up shower stall, two heads, an ample aft deck swim step, center cockpit configuration, cutter rig, and not a 'fixer upper'. While this boat has done the Caribbean 1500 a few times, it's not at all set up for long-term live-aboard cruising which actually suited us fine. We are staying local for the next few years and while we eventually plan to cast off again, that's a ways away for us. By the time we get ready to shove off, there will be gear that is even better suited for long-term cruising than there is today. Off-grid systems and electronics get better and more efficient every year, so when our time to go approaches - we'll start adding things like solar power, water maker, davits and whatever else we think we need. For now, we're perfectly set up to be weekend warriors here in the beautiful Virgin Islands.

And now, for the picture tour. We will start aft and then work our way up!

This is our aft cabin. It is a dream. We love the headroom, the extra storage, and the centerline queen bed.

Quite possibly the biggest upgrade of all, the aft head with a separate stand up shower. It is heaven!

Looking forward from our bedroom door (we have a door now!)

Our saloon. We still need to add some personal touches like family photos and such, but it feels very comfortable and homey.

One thing I LOVE about this boat? It's so bright! Natural light is a must for me in a home of any sort, and we love that we get lots of it here.

Another big upgrade! A desk! I write here, Scott works here and the chair is extra space for a friend to sit when people come over.

Looking aft to our bedroom from the saloon. Our walk-thru galley is a dream.

The twins bunk room. Two beds and plenty of space to store their goodies, especially since they both sleep up top together. Scott and I designed the bedrail using L-brackets and starboard. Works like a charm!

This is where the twins sleep, together. They sometimes sleep on opposite ends, sometimes snuggled up, but always together up here. Their choice!

This is the forward head directly across from the twins' room. Also has a stand up shower. Love!!!

Isla's room. This is her little sanctuary. She truly loves it and all three will play up here together in the morning.  Books, books and more books!

Looking aft from the front end. Our home sweet home!! We love her SO much!

Here's the layout of our boat to help further the visual tour. Hope you enjoyed!

OUR OLD BOAT, S/V ASANTE (BREWER 44) IS NOW FOR SALE. 

EMAIL US IF YOUR ARE INTERESTED WINDTRAVELER09 at GMAIL.COM 

STAY TUNED FOR A FULL LISTING WITH PRICE, PICTURES and SPECS.

Newsflash: Our Kids are Not as Perfect as they Seem on Instagram

I had had it up to HERE with my kids. It was 4:30pm, I had played referee, broken up fights, dealt with unruly tantrums, yelled at the top of my lungs, cooked two dinners, cleaned the boat over and over and over again, picked up toys, broken up more fights... and I. Was. Done. I walked down the dock with two girls happily running ahead of me and one lagging behind and I had defeat written all over face and body. I was tired, I was angry, I desperately wanted a break... A nice man stopped to politely let Mira pass (the lagger behinder of our posse), at which point she scowled at him, planted her feet firmly on the pavement, crossed her arms and yelled, "NO!" Aren't they charming, I thought? I looked up to the sky in frustration. Why are my kids such jerks sometimes!?! Sigh. "I'm sorry," I told the gentleman wearily, "She is a stubborn little child." I stood, waiting for Mira and as the man passed me he said casually, "She doesn't seem stubborn on your blog..."

I wasn't quite sure how to take the comment as there was no follow up conversation after that, I believe more than anything it was an honest observation. But it got me to thinking, "She doesn't seem stubborn on my blog but...isn't it understood that my kids are ages four and two and, at the end of the day, normal kids with 'asshole tendencies'?" (Yes, I'm sorry to swear but toddlers definitely can have asshole tendencies and if yours do not, well...congratulations). After some thought I came to the conclusion that maybe based on our Facebook and Instagram accounts, our pretty pictures and sweet updates of our goings-ons, people really did think our life and kids are perfect and, well, I am here to tell you loud and clear: OUR LIFE AND KIDS ARE NOT PERFECT.

***

Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for our life and I love our kids more than I can possibly articulate, but should you ever meet them, you must remember that what I share in photos and blogs are snippets of time, and - yes - mostly happy times (of which there are many!) but do not expect them to be adorable little robot children who will run when you call and hug when you bend down to greet them. I mean, sometimes they do that, and sometimes they are absolute angels...but sometimes Haven will look you straight in the eye when you give her a friendly "Hello!" and say, "I. Don't. Like. You" with clipped, perfect articulation just to drive the point home. Sometimes Mira will stick her tongue out you as you wave to her and Isla might just have a little "diva" moment if you ask for a high-five. Believe me, we are working on squishing these bad habits (behavior charts for the win!) but in the meantime, understand that our girls are not always happy, smiling, perfect creatures doing adorable things in beautiful locations. PLEASE do not be fooled into thinking that our girls are any different than other kids simply because we live on a boat in the islands. For example, I have Googled the following over the last few weeks: "Am I screwing up my kids?" "Are my kids jerks?" "How to deal with a "spirited" child?" (Good LORD how do you deal with a spirited child!?!) "Do I yell too much?" and "Tactics of the Super Nanny" No real conclusions have been reached based on these rather futile searches, but what I did discover during these forays into the interwebs was a bunch of other moms on the same page as I; confused, a little lost and worrying that we might be dropping the ball.

But we are not dropping the ball, and I know that. We're doing a lot of stuff right and we're doing some stuff wrong. It's inevitable. This is parenting and nobody, NOBODY gets it right all the time. I have my mommy strengths; an extremely affectionate nature, very patient (to a point), and an instinctual aversion to helicoptering (to name a few)...and I have my parental weaknesses: a temper, a need to 'control', and an almost OCD-like need for order (kind of hard with three tots!). These traits (along with many more from both Scott and me) will play out in our children's lives in one way or another. Some will have positive consequences, some will have negative consequences some will just be. Our parents screwed things up, their parents screwed things up before them and our great-grandparents before that... the cycle goes back to the beginning of time. But with every generation, we learn, we tweak, we change tacks and do our best. We do our best. We have all turned out okay (well, most of us anyway) and our kids (most likely) will follow suit and do the same. They will not be perfect, but they will be okay.

***

Social media in a lot of ways is a wonderful thing; it's brought me a tremendous amount of satisfaction, joy, friendship and community to my life. But there is a yin to the yang and I think the one-sided nature of it is part of that. We share the prettiest pics, the happiest times and everyone's life looks pretty damn awesome. But the truth is, no one knows what is really going on behind the curtain and things are not always what they seem. We have our struggles just like anyone else. They might not be the same struggles you have, but there are bumps in the road none the less. Our marriage is far from perfect (have your read about the divorce rate for parents of twins? YIKES!), Scott has very little work/life balance, we run a business that is constantly eating away at family time (there's no such thing as time "off" when you own a biz), we live a very public life that can be open to scrutiny (both outspoken and covert) and we have three children ages four and under. Two of them are two year old twins. (It. Is. Intense). It's not easy and it is a lot of work. But along with all that are all the positives. We own our own business. We live on a gorgeous tropical island. We just bought a beautiful new boat. We have three healthy children who are the loves of our lives. We have wonderful friends. We have a loving family. We meet interesting people every single day. Our girls have a wonderful, adoring community around them. We spend 90% of our awake time outside, in nature. We have so, so, so much....We are very lucky. When I am sharing our happy moments, I am just that: Happy. I am grateful and it's my nature to see the positive in things in life rather than dwell on the negative. But there is negative, make no mistake. Just because you don't see it, does not mean it's absent.

***

So when you scroll through our blog and our Instagram account, or when you toggle through my Facebook posts, please remember: we might not be in the exact same boat, but in one way shape or form, we are all in the same boat, somehow, someway, it all evens out in the wash. Where you might thrive, I might struggle. Where I struggle you might thrive. And it might not be so obvious based on the tiny percentage of our life that I share. So if and when you meet our (adorable, spirited, slightly feral, strong-willed, beautiful, wild and precocious) little girls and they are less than charming to you, my sincerest apologies. And if you meet them and they are the wonderful little creatures I prefer to highlight and chronicle every day, know you caught us on a good day.

There is Beauty in the Ordinary when You Carry it Within

As I prepare our girls for our move back to Tortola, my mind a frenetic ticker tape of thoughts, reminders, to-do's and lists, I also find myself reflecting on our time home and thinking of all the things I will miss. There seems to be this overriding thought in the cruising community that land life is sub-par in many ways; that it's predictable, mundane, lacks 'adventure'...etc. I've probably been guilty of perpetuating this idea as well and I'm sorry for that. I've even heard some cruisers say they'd "rather die than move back ashore", which strikes me as a tad dramatic. As someone who has had the luxury of being able to keep one foot in both worlds, I have a unique perspective and have learned that there is, indeed, beauty in both if you chose to see it that way.

Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to get back to our boat, it is what I prefer. I love living a 'life less ordinary' in a sailboat on the ocean and living in the sunshine amongst other cultures where the pace of life is slower. But I also understand that it's not the only way. I know for a fact some people couldn't be paid to live on a boat like we do, that many people really enjoy their 'ordinary' lives and the communities around them, and that many landlubbers might go positively mad living on 'island time'. A friend came over the other day and was so excited for us to head back to the boat. "It's great what you're doing!" she said. "It's such a better life!" she exclaimed. "You'll be so much happier!" she continued. It was obvious she had romanticized living aboard and, being the kind of person I am, I had to stop her and remind her that our life on the boat is far from perfect. "Oh, I know" she started, "But don't you think people here are just so...miserable?"

I didn't want to squash her obvious excitement or be rude, but I also had to be honest. "No" I answered. "I don't."

Because what I have learned after spending this past summer home is that 'ordinary' life is beautiful too. Sure, the scenery might not be as dynamic as that of a tropical paradise, but true beauty is so much more than a visual. It's making connections with like-minded moms who I meet during swim lessons, at the park, or in the library. It's seeing the excitement on our kids' faces as our neighborhood "big girls" come over, load our littles into the wagon, and take them all to the park trailed by giggles. It's old friends who, when they hear your kids don't have winter clothes, get together and collect some for you. It's packing a cooler of beer for an afternoon beach outing with family. It's spontaneous drinks with neighbors during a power outage. It's getting together with old girl friends and gabbing about life over wine and dinner. It's play dates with cousins who turn into best buddies. It's backyard bonfires with close friends and s'mores. It's rigging up a tire swing from the old black walnut tree. It's having a slumber party with your best friend of almost thirty years and laughing and crying about the craziness of life. It's a walk in a forest preserve to see the fall colors. It's skipping stones onto Lake Michigan. It's grandma and grandpa showing up every morning for coffee and playtime. It's the holiday traditions, village tree-lightings, toddler reading groups, summer concerts, and the birth of your dear friend's baby. It's about family and friends and fun and love. 

Right now, our life is taking us to the islands very much by choice. I do prefer to live somewhere warm and visually spectacular. I do prefer to avoid a Chicago winter at all costs. I do prefer to live on a boat as opposed to in a house. Believe me, there are absolutely elements of a suburban land life that are not for me, but there are elements of the island-hopping cruising lifestyle that aren't great as well. We make the beds we lie in and everything is a trade off. Community, friends, proximity to nature and honest relationships...these are the things that really matter to me, and as long as I can find them - I know I will be happy wherever I roam.

One things for sure, I will always, always enjoy coming home.

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not. 

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Cruising Perspectives: Fourteen 'Side Effects' of Living on a Boat

Note: I was invited to write this post back in June of 2013 (!?!?!) by the lovely Tammy of Things we Did Today for the great 'hive mind' site, The Monkey's Fist. I am only now getting back to it with the time to flush it out. Check out other blogger's takes on this great subject here.

Living on a boat: it doesn't take a genius to realize this is very different from living on land. There are a million ways in which the cruising and/or live-aboard lifestyle differs from that of a land-lubbing existence, too many to list in fact. Living on a boat is certainly no utopia, but it can be pretty great - and many of us find that we have strengths we never knew we had, hobbies we never knew we loved, and skills we didn't think we possessed. These are great perks of the lifestyle. Then, there are some other more unexpected things we get from the lifestyle, I call these: side effects.

Here are 14 "side effects" that I have experienced from five years of boat life:

1. Water usage: Sure, we have a high output water-maker and carry 120 gallons on our boat. But still, even that is a finite and limited supply and must be monitored so as not to run out. Remember that time I carried 60 gallons of water to refill our tanks? I have not forgotten it. Even on land we use water sparingly and letting a tap run for any extended length of time feels wrong. Letting it run while you don't need it, i.e while brushing teeth or in-between doing dishes? That's just criminal.

2. Storage Envy: Houses are full of pretty right angles and nice, square (or rectangular) storage spaces. THIS IS A LUXURY, PEOPLE. Boats have none of those things. We have oddly shaped 'cabinets' and 'cubbies' which make general storage annoying, difficult and - in some cases - impossible. We have gear stuffed so deeply in the rabbit-hole recesses of our boat I'm pretty sure we'll never see them again (in fact, we never did find that spare mast-head light in our last boat...). Gear is stored on a priority basis because you simply have no other choice - which means items used daily or regularly are semi-easy to get to, and things that you don't use daily or regularly require blood, sweat and sometimes tears to get to. All those years of playing Tetris paid off. Luckily, our Brewer has a ton of storage - but even still, it's a struggle to get to and when I see boats with nice, big closet-like spaces (cough-catamarans-cough), I get a little twitchy.

3. Everything is a Compromise: I just mentioned that our boat has a ton of storage, and it does. But guess what? It comes at the cost of living space. The sides of our boat are so chalk-full of cubbies and cabinets, that our living area is significantly more narrow to accommodate it. Boats who are smaller in size, can end up feeling much bigger than ours because of this. That is just one of a MILLION examples I could give you. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING on a boat is a compromise. You install a freezer, you become a slave to your generator. You spring for the wind generator, you get the noise. You re-configure for more galley storage, you loose your microwave. And on and on it goes. Be prepared. Nothing comes on or off the boat that doesn't have a price, both literally and figuratively.

4. Spacial Awareness: When you buy anything for your boat, the first things you will think about is, "Do we have room for this?" and secondly, "Where will this go?" because, at least on our boat, the golden rule is: A place for everything and everything in it's place. This comes very easy to me because I am by nature an incredibly OCD 'tidy' person, but for those of you who are less inclined to put things away, going sailing will be a messy ordeal because, NEWSFLASH: boats are prone to rocking side to side and items not stored properly can and will go flying. 

5. Power Struggles: When you are not concerned with space, you will be concerned with power. Amp hours are another limited commodity on a boat, and even though we have a nice array of solar panels and a decent sized battery bank, we still need to run our generator from time to time to keep up with our energy needs. Rare is the boat that has all their power requirements met by sun and wind day in and day out. Want to bring aboard that Vitamix blender that you love? First of all, see #4 (space) and second, better check out how much juice that thing will suck out of your batteries. Before you buy that system or appliance, you will (or should) be wondering "What does this draw?"

6. Hoarding: I realize this sort of contradicts #4 (space), but hear me out...Living on a boat where simple chores like grocery shopping can become one hell of an ordeal, not to mention the fact that certain places don't have certain things, mean that you try to stock up when and where you can. The Exumas in the Bahamas had grocery stores that looked like they came right out of socialist Russia and the grocery stores in the smaller islands of the windwards had cans on the shelves that were over ten years old! When you get somewhere with good bounty, you'll want to stock up. The same applies to boat parts/supplies. If we order a new "O" ring for our generator's heat exchanger, you better believe we're ordering an end cap, gasket, cover and capscrew as well, and two of each!

7. You Wait for the 'Other Shoe to Drop': I wish we could say we were in the types of cruisers that falls under the 'minimalist' category, but we are not. While Scott could probably swing that way, I like certain creature comforts. I love our water-maker. I love our generator. I love our engine. I love our cockpit speakers. I love our refrigerator. I love our AC (at the dock.) These things make our boat more comfortable and livable for us but, sadly, they come at a price (see #3 - compromise).  As much as we appreciate these systems, they are prone to breaking. They say a cruising boat is in good order if 80% of it's systems are running and truer words were never spoken. It is ALWAYS something. ALWAYS. From the mundane (polishing ever-rusting stainless) to the disastrous (a leaking fuel tank) you will never not have something to fix.  As the 'worrier' of our duo, I'm always looking ahead and wondering, "What's it gonna be next?" The windlass? The stereo? The main halyard? The autopilot? Scott always says, "We're always just one ring-ding away from disaster!" Sad, but true. Boats break. A lot.

8. Heightened senses: An odd vibration under foot, a faint waft of an unusual odor, a dull yet different sound emitting from the engine? All of these things will not only put you on high alert, but set you into action to figure out "why?" You will grow to know every creak and groan your boat makes, you will be unusually familiar with the 'normal' vibrations of your engine and you will know *immediately* if any of your pumps, from those in your bilge to those in your water maker, are acting up. On a boat ignoring these sounds, feelings and odors can be detrimental so you'll be hyper aware of it all. Fun fact: You'll also be able to predict wind speed within a knot or two based on the sounds it makes through your rig. 

9. Resourcefulness: The need to be 'resourceful' has been a bit atrophied in this day and age when we can pretty much have whatever we want or need in a matter of hours, but in the islands this is not the case. Sometimes (actually, a lot of times) we must improvise. Lack of facilities, under-stocked stores, and public holidays are all things that can wreak havoc on you getting that part, talking to that agent, or finishing a project. As such, you need to be resourceful and use what is on hand. Scott has become a veritable McGuyver as a result of living on a boat and his handiness is a mega asset.

10. Hitting the Road (on foot): We walk, a lot. It's so funny to me how little islanders walk or how they seem to judge distance. A very normal conversation will go like this: Us: "Excuse me, but could you point us in the direction of the grocery store?" Islander: "You're not walking, right? It's too far to walk!" Us: "How far, would you say?" Islander: "Oh, I don't know...a really long way." Us: "Okay, well, we like to walk - is is this way?" Islander: (Shaking head with a laugh) "Okay, yes - just up that road there..." And then we walk and it's, like, two miles away. But, yeah, when we're moving around on land we walk a lot to get from point A to point B.

11. Putting it all Out There: Underwear on the line, bras hanging from the the mast, food scraps in a bowl in the cockpit (ready to be tossed overboard later), and sometimes, donning nothing more than our birthday suits, cruisers are not a shy bunch. We tend to put it all out there because, well, we don't really have room to put it any place else. We shower off the back of our boats and sometimes greet our cruising buddies in our underwear. Every year of cruising trades few more social mores/graces for a little more 'heathen' I think.

12. Patience: I am not, by nature, a patient person. It is yet another of my less-than-desirable traits and perhaps the one that I do battle with most regularly as a cruiser because a) a sailboat is S L O W and b) "Island Time" is more real than you can ever possibly imagine. Whether it be having to wait two weeks for your simple package to clear customs (sorry, it arrived during Carnival!) or sailing into the wind and making almost zero VMG for twenty-four hours, living on a boat in the islands will test your patience daily. As a result, you will have no choice but to become more patient or drink a lot to take your mind of the frustration. 

13. Settling for Second Best: When you combine #7 (things break) and #9 (resourcefulness) you sometimes need to settle for a solution that is for sure second-best. Boats are constantly breaking down under the UV of the sun and the corrosion of the salt and unless you have a staff, you will not be able to stay on top of all the work and maintenance your boat needs, meaning you will get used to having certain things not working and/or not looking pretty. Our teak toe rails are a disaster. In fact, all teak on our boat - both inside and out - needs a good re-doing, but we just don't have the money or time right now. And that's okay.

14. Bi-Polar Tendencies: And finally - if you are anything like we are - living on the water will make you bi-polar. You will, at times,  have a love/hate relationship with: your boat, the ocean, the lifestyle, the islands and (most likely) your spouse. High highs and low lows across the board. We can't have it all, right?

Sorry I was so ridiculously late Tammy! Thanks for the great thought-provoking post idea!

Five Year Anniversary: Thoughts, Reflections and Confessions

Five years ago yesterday we untied the dock lines from our slip in Chicago and changed the course of our lives forever. If Facebook hadn't gently reminded me that "Here's a memory from five years ago!" and showed me the above picture, I absolutely wouldn't have remembered it (I mean, I can barely remember my own wedding anniversary), and I wouldn't have spent a large part of the day reminiscing and reflecting on all that has happened. I shared the picture to our Windtraveler Page with this caption:

This was the day we departed Chicago, 5 years ago. We sailed through the Great Lakes, across the Erie canal, down the Hudson River, down the East Coast, to the Bahamas, Turks and Caicos, DR, PR and all through the windwards and leewards to Trinidad. It wasn't always pretty or easy (and more times than I'd like to admit we wanted to throw in the towel on the lifestyle and each other) but it was definitely an adventure!

Two boats, over a dozen countries, fifteen thousand nautical miles, three daughters, countless 'wins', an equal number of mistakes and zero regrets. 

When I look at this picture, I am struck by several things. First, how utterly naive we were when we left. I mean, we did not have a CLUE. When we think back and talk about those days, both Scott and I shake our heads in disbelief at how ill-prepared we were and thank our lucky stars that we didn't get ourselves killed. Which tells you a little something about boats (they are stronger than we are), common sense (a little goes a long way), and luck (it was on our side). We made so many mistakes...We sailed right into a terrible storm (still to date our worst yet), ran into a rock in the Erie Canal (it's truly a miracle we didn't sink our boat), took on water (thank God it was fresh) which, subsequently, killed our transmission (hooray for warranties!) And that was all within the first month of our leaving! We had never, ever anchored. We'd never even heard of a GRIB file, hadn't really communicated via VHF before and - aside from one little shakedown sail across the lake - had never sailed over night. I will say this, though, those first six months - as steep of a learning curve as they were - were among the best, most exciting months we've had. The world was our oyster, and everything felt thrilling and new. It was, in hindsight, a pretty magical time. We took baby steps the entire way, and that is a large part of the reason we are still here.

The other thing that strikes me when I look at this photo, is how different our initial agenda was from what has become our reality. We all know that 'plans' are subject to change - particularly for those of us who have the luxury to live on boats with no real agenda other than that which our vessels and Mother Nature dictate... but it's funny how quickly - and drastically - ours changed. Our journey went from being a "3-5 year circumnavigation" to becoming an open-ended semi-nomadic life in the Caribbean. Why? The obvious answer lies in our blissful naiveté, we literally had no idea what, exactly, a circumnavigation entailed and, frankly, we decided that maybe we didn't need to circle the globe to be content (we reserve the right to do this later when our girls are older!) The other answers are tied up in getting work to fill the cruising kitty, taking six to thirteen month shore-side breaks to have babies and getting a bigger boat to accommodate this rapid crew expansion. The other day I ran into a friend from our Chicago sailing days and she said, "Hey! You guys were going to sail around the world, right?" and I laughed and replied, "Yeah, well...we didn't get very far!" But what we didn't cover in nautical miles, we covered in life (three of them, to be exact) and those little girls are our greatest accomplishments. Our's is more of an evolution to a life less ordinary than a journey "from point A to point B," and I'm cool with that.

I'm also struck by how much we have changed both as individuals and as a couple.  There's been a lot of laughter and a lot of tears. There's been some serious soul searching and many, many questions. The emotional roller coaster that is life on a boat has been as diverse as the winds and seas we've sailed in. When we left, Scott and I were newlyweds - and now, after spending almost all of our married years together 24/7 on a (relatively) small sailboat we're... not. There are land-based couples who don't spend as much time together as we have in five years in twenty-five years and that is really something. That much togetherness is intense and, to be honest, it's been pretty detrimental to our relationship at times. In fact, I'm not sure that kind of excessive togetherness is healthy for most couples (sure, there are the "unicorn" pairs for whom this sort of situation is 'easy' but that is not us) and I have many friends that tell me there is no way they'd survive day in and day out with their spouse. We are still very much trying to navigate the ocean that is wedlock and it is challenging to say the least, particularly on a boat. We've learned a lot about ourselves and each other, and it's not always pretty. But we ride the waves; learning, loving, stumbling and growing - trying to stay afloat both literally and figuratively. Some days are easier than others, just like cruising.

We've sailed a bunch of miles, traveled to some amazing places, and done things that most people will only dream of - but, at the risk of sounding mega corny - these things are very much secondary to the journeys that have taken place within. Among other things, we have found our passions on the sea; I have found a voice on this blog and now know my calling is to write and share; Scott got his 200-ton captain's license and has found his life's work on the ocean. We have grown from wide-eyed wanderers to lightly-seasoned cruisers who have decided to make a life afloat, at least for now...

I think that's what strikes me the most about this picture: the fact that we had no idea what was ahead. If you would have told me five years ago all that I have just wrote, I don't know that I would have believed you. I look at this picture and feel hope, excitement, and wonder. I can put myself back in that precise moment five years ago like it was yesterday; the nerves, the butterflies, the giddy excitement, the awe...I can feel the (unusually) warm fall air, hear the gentle rumble of our engine, recall exactly what I was wearing (my SLAM long underwear and Patagonia pants, no shoes) and summon the surreal feeling of being hyper-aware of how lucky we were, of being totally cognizant of a mega paradigm shift and knowing full-well that nothing would ever be the same from that moment forward. I was totally present and grateful. 

And that, right there, is the beauty of the endless horizon. You might know exactly where you've been, but you never know exactly where you are going.

Who's Dream is this, Anyway?

"Wow, that woman is a real trooper." A zodiac had just passed our stern as Scott and I were in the middle of the (rather laborious) process of off-loading our three girls from our dinghy and onto the boat. I heard his comment clear as day. My first reaction was a little chuckle; our current situation is quite the head-turner. But I quickly realized that his impression was probably a bit skewed: That instead of calling me a 'trooper' because I was unloading three toddlers from our dinghy (because wouldn't that make Scott a trooper as well?), maybe he was calling me a trooper because he thought that perhaps I had been convinced to live on a boat by my husband, and I was a good wife (or 'trooper') to have gone along for the ride. Either way, I took it as a compliment - but if he did think I was simply riding the coattails of Scott's dream, he would be very, very wrong.

It's true, however, that the vast majority of cruising couples we meet on the water over the past five years are often driven, literally and figuratively, by the man. I'm not sure why this is, but the woman in the pair is more often than not a willing (or, in some unfortunate cases, unwilling) participant in her husband's dream. Of course this is not always the case and we've met many, many couple's for whom the dream has evolved into a 'shared' one, and even a few where the woman is the driving force behind it.

So who's dream is this, anyway?

For Scott and I, it is very much a shared one. For me, the "traveler" of our duo, I'd been talking about 'sailing around the world' since I was a pre-teen. To me, sailing was a means to live differently and travel as a lifestyle. Scott, the true "sailor" in our duo, had also been dreaming and scheming about a life afloat just as long. For him, however, it was more about being at sea, exploring new islands and the simple art of harnessing the wind. When we met and learned of this shared dream, I believe it was the very fuel that kick-started our relationship into orbit. I mean, how many people living in Chicago really, truly want to do what it takes to live and travel by sailboat? It's not many. We felt like we hit the jackpot with each other, and in many ways, we did. What we wanted to get out of the lifestyle might have been different, but the vessel to get us there was the same. So from day one of our relationship, almost everything we did revolved around making this 'dream' come true. The two of us leaving on a boat to sail off into the sunset surprised exactly no one in our lives. For our wedding we registered for winches, offshore medical kits and windlasses; Egyptian cotton bed sheets and the white picket fence were never in our sites.

And here we are.

We obviously didn't get very far around the world, in fact some critics argue we've hardly gone anywhere at all (despite the fact that we sailed from Chicago to Trinidad, done the "thorny path" twice, and sailed up and down the windwards and leewards a couple times clocking in over 10K nautical miles), but it doesn't matter. Many have sailed more, and many have sailed less. It's not about needing anyone else's approval or accolades, and it's certainly not a competition. For us, the past five years has been a metamorphosis of sorts. What started as a plan to "sail around the world" has become a dream to live a life less ordinary, with the focus on raising three healthy, happy and (dare I say) bad-ass daughters who are free-thinking world citizens. It's become less about the sailing to far-flung places, and more about cultivating a life that we enjoy and can feel proud of. It's really as simple as that. And, to be honest, I feel that in some teeny-tiny way, we are pioneers in our own right. There aren't many people who, given our same circumstances, would have the stick-to-it that we have.

There are times when I am more the driving force behind our dream, and times when Scott takes the helm - but the roots are always the same. We've never followed the pack - not as individuals and not as a couple - and while the path might be one that evolves and unfolds before us as we go, it is ours. Together.

And, yeah, we're troopers. I'll give us that.

Five Years

Five years ago today we said "I do" and set this whole journey into motion. It was an incredible weekend, and it marked the official beginning of our life together, although one could argue the twisty turvy path to this place started long before we ever met.

Two boats, three kids, fifteen countries and over 10K nautical miles later, here we are. It's not always been easy or pretty or perfect. Just like any married couple, we are learning as we go; sometimes soaring, sometimes stumbling. Our path is our own and one thing is for certain, it's been an endless adventure every step of the way. We are blessed beyond belief and I thank the Universe every single day for our girls, our life, our health, and everything in between. The good, the bad, the ugly...it's all been...amazing. Quite the evolution.

I wouldn't change a thing.

“A life of adventure is ours for the taking, whether we're seven or seventy. Life for the most part is what me make it. We have been given a responsibility to live it fully, joyfully, completely, and richly, in whatever span of time God grants us on this earth.”  

- Luci Swindoll, I Married Adventure

Happy Anniversary Scott, cheers to us babe. xo

Everything Looks Perfect from Far Away

Last night I heard the very sad news that Robin Williams died.  "What does that have to do with sailing?" you ask.  Nothing.  His death has nothing to do with sailing.   But his death has struck me harder than I could have ever imagined. This blog has deviated from the boating life for a while now and, believe it or not, the untimely death of Robin Williams is, in fact, relevant to this blog in that it has touched on a subject that I have been wanting to write about for quite some time, but never seemed to find the way.

As soon as the news of the alleged suicide hit the internet, people have been expressing their collective grief. The reactions run the gamut: it's tragic, it's a waste, so sad, huge loss, etc.  But the overwhelming emotion bubbling to the top of the chatter is the absolute shock the majority of the world feels. "Robin Williams, master of laughs, depressed!?"  "Robin Williams, successful movie star and comedian, taking his own life?!" Of course 99.9% of the people chiming in (me included) didn't know Mr. Williams personally, but we all "knew" him based on what he shared with the world.  Namely: a lot of laughs.  According to what we could see, he was a happy, manic, goof ball, hell-bent on making people smile.  But we obviously only saw part of the picture.

And this is what I think is wrong with today.
(And here is where I am going to deviate and get a little abstract...)

We live in a world of over-sharing.  Facebook, Twitter, Snap-chat, Instagram, Tumblr and, of course, blogging all fall under the umbrella of "social media" which, by definition, is: websites and applications that enable users to create and share content or to participate in social networking.  The word "network" implies connection.  Most of us partake in this charade at some level; you must have either incredible resolve or be completely technically incompetent to avoid it - but it's important to remember what it is: a charade.  The assumption is that this type of networking "connects" all of us and makes us feel like we are not alone, yet for so many this could not be farther from the truth.  Most of us share only the best and bury the rest which leads to a bunch of people seeing our "ideal" lives and feeling inadequate or insecure, or worse - making those of us who suffer feel tremendously alone in our pain.  The selfies are picture perfect, the meals are organic and ornate, the outfits flawless and fitting.  The relationships are happy and effortless, the friendships deep and meaningful, the families close and loving.  No one bitches about their marriages, complains about the dosage of their anti-depressant, or admits the fact that they think they might be dropping the ball on the whole "parenthood" thing.  Nope.  The world according to social media is perfect and it is total bull-crap.  "This is your life.  This is your life according to Facebook."

I am not saying that we need to start airing our dirty laundry on the internet or spewing all that is wrong in our lives on the web to solve this problem.  I don't know what the answer is.  I do, however, think that people need to stop assuming that what they read and see is the whole picture, because more often than not, it isn't.  It's easy to project a certain image from behind the pages of a magazine, book, profile or blog but the vast majority of us live lives of "quiet desperation" and yet we see very little of that.  I am not even going to pretend I know what it feels like to suffer from clinical depression or to feel so desperate that I would consider taking my own life.  But what I do know from being the author of this blog is that there are a lot of assumptions and misconceptions about me, our life, and our family that are just dead wrong.  It's not easy to be 100% honest with each other because in order to do so we must expose something and become vulnerable.  "Vulnerable" has a negative connotation in our society and it's very difficult to open up and expose our weaknesses to others, particularly if those around you assume you have it all.  Yet sharing vulnerability is precisely what takes us beyond the superficial and connects us more deeply than anything.  Therein lies the catch 22.

I think there are some important lessons and conversations to be had as a result of the passing of one of the greatest comedic geniuses of all time.  No one is perfect.  No one has it all and unless you truly "know" a person, you never really know them and their struggles or their pain.  Depression is a very real, very insidious disease that knows no boundaries and I believe that the lack of real connection between human beings today is part of why this disease runs so rampant in our society.  We compare ourselves constantly against false measures; whether it be the models in magazines, the characters in movies, or our very own Facebook news feeds. Everything looks perfect from far away, and the internet - specifically social media - is like a backwards telescope.

"We all have a great need for acceptance, but you must trust that your beliefs are unique, your own, even though others may think them odd or unpopular, even though the herd may go “that’s baaaaad.” Robert Frost said, "Two roads diverged in the wood and I, I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference." - Dead Poets Society

While I obviously place a high value on marching to the beat of your own drum and living "outside the box," I think it is so important to remember that even as individuals we are all in this together and that, no matter what, we are never alone.

Rest in Peace, Robin Williams.  Thank you for making all of us laugh.  Thank you for creating beauty. Thank you for making this world a better place with your gift.

No matter what anyone tells you, words and ideas can change the world.

-Robin Williams

A New Horizon: Thoughts on Change

So here we are.

Scott went off to work last week for the next five weeks - his last rotation with Island Windjammers for the foreseeable future (the door to return remains open) - and Isla and I are on the boat, prepping her for our impending departure, a date that is hurtling towards us despite my attempts to ignore it.

We leave on Friday.

We fly back home to Chicago and leave the tropics, our boat, our home for the next fifteen to twenty months, give or take.  That's right.  We're moving back to land.  We're going to become C.L.O.D's (cruisers living on dirt, though I really hate that acronym).  And oh yeah, and I'm going to give birth to twins in the next couple of months.  Our lives are about to do a major, major about face.

Ironically, it's the whole 'moving back to land' thing that's the biggest pill to swallow for me and I have been procrastinating writing about it because writing about it makes it real.  I don't want it to be real.  Don't get me wrong, I know that this is what we have to do and I know that this is what is best for our family right now.  I am excited to spend the holidays with loved ones, I am happy that I am going home to my amazing friends and I am beyond grateful to be welcomed with open arms into a home that is full of happiness, laughter, support and love.  Wonderful, amazing things are in store for us, and I should be counting my blessings that we have so much to look forward to and be thankful for all the options that are before us, but I just can't shake this feeling of melancholy that sits like a pit in my tummy.  I can't seem to get excited about moving back to land, even with all the benefits that doing so entails.  Each day I pack up more and more of our boat, I get a little more sad.  You see, I don't want things to change.  I am really, really sad to end this chapter.

I know, I know...Change is part of life.  Change is good and necessary for growth... But despite being a person who's life has more or less been defined by coming and going and living pretty unconventionally, I have never been one to take unplanned life changes in stride with my head held high.  Oh no, as much as I hate to admit this rather large character flaw (namely that I am a control freak), change that I have not been the master of has to pull me forward by the scruff of my neck while I kick and scream in protest: "But I LIKED the way things were!" "Leave me be! I was happy where I was!!!"  When my best friend got married - as thrilled as I was for her to have found an awesome life partner, father and husband - I grieved for the duo that we used to be (and let me tell you, we were - and still are - quite a pair!).  When I left Africa after three incredible life-altering years, I came home in a fog that took months to come out of.  When summer and sailing season ended each year in my former land life, I mourned and went into a funk.  When we part ways with buddy boats, I get weepy.  In other words, when my little world is rocked, it takes me a good, long while to get my bearings again.  Seems out of character, right?  Guess I am not as "go with the flow" as I might like to think I am.  I'm a walking, talking paradox at times.

Part of this current resistance, no doubt, is the fact that it is winter right now and (despite loving to ski), I never have and never will be a "winter" or cold weather person.  I will be going home to temperatures in the single and possibly negative digits.  Up north where I come from, is not unusual for the sun to remain in hiding for days at a time this time of year.  It's dark a lot and, obviously, really cold.  For a sun-loving, beach-going, warm-weather-lover like me, it's hard to get excited about those things.  For someone like me, weather like that is just a tad depressing.

The other part of this resistance and sorrow is that I kind of feel like we're breaking up, you and I.

Sharing this adventure with you all has been a pleasure, you have brought me tremendous support, joy, insight and, sometimes, even friendship.  You have challenged, inspired and pushed me.  And while we have no plans to sell this boat (unless we buy another one) and are prepping to resume cruising again in the 2015 season (we plan to be based in the BVI's where it will be easier to island hop and adjust to life aboard as five, more on this to come), this hiatus will be a long one.  I am still going to write during this land-based period, and when I feel inspired or have reason, it will be boat and cruising related... But for the most part - I'm going to be a landlubber embarking on a new adventure.  Namely one of the "three children under three" variety.  I have no doubt that being a mama to a toddler and twins (a situation likened to the 'decathlon of parenting' in a book I read) will provide me with plenty of fodder for amusing and insightful stories and blog posts, sporadic as they might be for a while.  But I also know that reading about adventures in twin rearing is not why many of you are here...

And while I welcome with open arms the new followers of this blog who are reading to follow exactly that stuff ,  I also know that I will be parting ways with some of you - and that is totally understandable and okay (this began, after all, as a cruising blog).  But do me a favor and refrain from actually telling me that you will be no longer be reading or that you are so sad we are moving back to land you can hardly stand it or that you just know we won't be happy ashore and that we should really reconsider our options (yes, emails in all three categories have been received).  Right now, I need to focus on the positive and hearing those things makes me sad.

Regardless, as sentimental as I am about this chapter ending, I am ready to embrace this new adventure (yes, even despite the cold weather).  It's time.  The past couple of months have been challenging for us in ways that I have not shared.  We need to re-charge our batteries and focus on what is the most important thing right now:  our family and healthy babies.  Scott and I were texting yesterday about this very subject and he reminded me that every major change in our life has lead us to something even better than before: from buying our first boat, to quitting our jobs to leaving Chicago, to sailing to Grenada, to Scott getting employed by Island Windjammers, to coming home for eight months to have Isla, to getting a bigger boat and resuming cruising again...all of these major shifts in our life were not without some yin and yang type emotions and growing pains...but every single time, and I mean every. single. time. we came out the other side better than before.  Each and every transformation cultivated us into something greater, whether or not we knew it at the time.  So, while I might be resistant to this big change upon us and lament the end of this amazing chapter, I know in my heart of hearts that this slash mark on the timeline of our lives will mark the beginning of something even greater than before...

And we'll be back on the boat, back in the islands, back to living our dream.  Of that I am certain.

We have committed ourselves to a life less ordinary, a life where adventure is the rule and not the exception.

But for now, we'll take pause.

To our darling Isla...

Today you are eighteen months old.  While we haven't officially been "chronicling" your milestones or progress in any specific way, your wonderful life journey has been spattered in bits and pieces throughout this blog - something I treasure and hope you will too, one day.  Lately you have been blossoming into quite the little person and last night your daddy asked if I could write a little letter to you so we can try to capture this moment in time and preserve it.  Just a little something to let you know exactly how much we love you (though words really could not explain), and a way to remember all the funny and amazing little things you are doing these days because - even though we think we never will - we don't want to forget the little things like way you say "wruv you" when I kiss you goodnight or make funny faces on command to make us laugh.  So here goes nothing...

To put it simply, you are awesome.  Seriously, you are.  Your daddy and I talk about this fact as we're tucking ourselves into bed just about every night.  Believe it or not, we actually get in little "fights" over who gets to go and get you when you wake up in the morning...that is how excited we are to see your smiling face every day.  So you are the last thing we think about when we go to bed, and the very first thing we think about when we wake up.  You are loving, kind, funny, sweet, cuddly, intelligent, affectionate, inquisitive, thoughtful and goofy.  We are so incredibly proud of the little person you are becoming.

You love to make people laugh and you have become a veritable "funny face" making all sorts of hilarious expressions from "big eyes!" to "serious face" in order to make people laugh.  You absolutely LOVE other children and will go up to just about any child - older or younger - with a big smile on your face, ready to play.  Most of the time, you will even give that child a big hug and kiss - whether you know them or not.  You are going to be such a good big sister and already you excitedly reply "TWO!" when asked how many babies mommy is having.  You are incredibly coordinated - something we attribute to the fact that you have lived the bulk of your life on a sailboat - and climb like a monkey and balance precariously around the boat like a gymnast. You are fearless and one of your current favorite games is "timber" where you climb to the top of the companionway steps and fall into our arms on the count of "one, two, TIMBER!" It's quite impressive, actually.

You have also taken to running and jumping lately and on the command "ready, set...GO!" you will smile from ear to ear and take off running.  Dance parties continue to be a favorite past time and at the first sound of music you will raise your arms in the air and start bending your knees to the beat.  You have also recently incorporated the "spin" into your dance repertoire and love to turn in circles and make yourself dizzy. You've also learned to "slow dance" with daddy and put your arm around his neck and hold his hand when he holds you - it's adorable.  If we ask you to "dance like a ballerina" you walk around on your toes, like a ballerina, and twirl with joy.  Your favorite song is "Baby Body Moving" which is a Leapfrog music app on our iPad and you demand "body, body" at least once a day and delight us with your hilarious dance moves.

I mentioned before that your attention span for self-play has grown exponentially and you can happily entertain yourself for as much as 30 minutes at a time, playing with your blocks, reading books, or making tunes on your current favorite toy - the glockenspiel.  Speaking of toys, you have very little interest in them and much prefer to run around outside, swim off the back of our boat or go on adventures on the paddle board.  You love spoons and just about any kitchen utensil and have become quite the little helper around the boat.  You understand SO much it's incredible.  We can say almost anything to you and you "get it" which blows our minds.  You have so many words in your vocabulary and talk non-stop, something we attribute to the fact that you spend all day, every day with us and we are constantly giving you a running commentary on what is going on.  We feel so lucky and blessed to be able to spend so much time with you - and we are ALL are thriving because of this.

Your favorite word these days is "whoa!" and you exclaim it with wide eyed surprise anytime you see something you find neat or do something cool (particularly airplanes) and you are very good with your pleases (peas) and thank you's (sank youn).  Your excitement with the world around you is truly amazing to watch and such a gift to behold.  You give the best hugs and kisses, and nothing in this world brings me more joy than those spontaneous moments when you look at me, smile, and throw your arms around my neck to give me a big hug.  Your hugs are epic and your smile, wow, it still lights up a room.  You have the best smile I have ever seen, you literally smile with your whole heart and soul.  It is so awesome.  You are such a little beauty, inside and out.

What's best is the fact that you are a truly happy child.  There is no denying it.  You laugh easily and regularly and your giggles are music to our ears.  You wake up each morning with a grin, you smile all the time and you are a true joy to be around.  You have brought your daddy and I so much happiness that I could never find the words to truly express it.  I know everyone who has children says this, but it's so true:  I cannot imagine our lives without you.  We cherish every second we have with you.  You are a gift, and one that just keeps on giving.  It just keeps getting better and better.

We love you so very much baby girl, you are truly one amazing little person.  Thank you for showing us the world through your eyes and making us better people because of it.

Love,
Mommy and Daddy