It really warms my heart to see the genuine love and affection between my two girls, Sophia and Eva, and Paul’s daughter, Cheryl. There is definitely a very strong bond between them. For instance, last week I took all three girls to the drug store (stay tuned for my next post on condom buying research for health class) and while I was immersed in what I was shopping for, I looked over and saw Cheryl put her arms around Sophia. She needed a hug and Sophia complied and there they stood in Walgreens, embracing. It struck me as very dear. But the next story is even more special.

As I have mentioned previously, Sophia is going off to college in Portland, OR this fall and her dad, my ex, Jared, is planning to drive her and Eva up the coast on a road trip. (I will fly up separately.) He’s talking about renting a car one-way and possibly taking the train home. It should be a wonderful end of the summer trip and a great send off for Sophia. Both girls are lobblying their dad to take Cheryl too. As Sophia opined to me, “Cheryl really, really wants to come.”

After Sophia’s birthday party dinner Jared, Sophia, Eva and I were alone and talked about the planned trip. Both Sophia and Eva piped in, “Dad, can we pleeease bring Cheryl with us???”  I assured both girls that we would fine a way to make sure that Cheryl would be able to join them. The next day when I spoke to Jared on the phone he said he would be happy to include Cheryl in his plans. What a great dad!!! What a great guy!!! And what great sisters three girls are!!! The trip is going to be so much fun and something great to look forward to all summer.

This past week I got a request from the Xenon Project to review their RC helicopter and I cannot tell you how much fun my family has had with this remote controlled helicopter. Paul especially. I just love watching him be a kid again. The helicopter is small, about 6 inches long, and safe to fly in the house, which we did all weekend. (The cats were very amused.)

Our great room has high ceilings, about 12 feet, ideal for giving our helicopter ample room to fly around. (It landed in the chandelier a few times requiring Paul to get out the ladder.) We all took turns. It takes a certain amount of fine motor skills to navigate, which we all mastered in a matter of minutes. This is a very sturdy toy, capable of withstanding several crash landings.

On Sunday night, Paul and I stopped over to visit Pop Pop, who will be 91 this Saturday, and we played a fun prank on him. Paul set up the toy in front of his door and had it airborne when we knocked. When he opened the door he got a big kick out of watching it whirr around in front of him. I think we will be getting him one for his birthday.

Remote controlled toys are something all kids love and my husband and his father are no exception. You may buy this toy for your children, but I have to say in our family it is the adults who get the most fun and enjoyment from it.

There is no assembly required. You just need  6 AA batteries. The helicopter can be charged from any USB port or from the controller itself.

Yesterday the girls, Paul and I rode our bikes down to the boardwalk to see James Durbin’s welcome home celebration at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk bandstand. I have to say that is was one of the funnest and most exciting happenings that I have experienced in a long time. An estimated 30,000 fans pilgrimaged from all over carrying I heart James Durbin signs for what turned out to be a very festive and heartwarming occassion. At one point I turned to Paul and said, “At the risk of sounding smaltzy and overly sentimental, it is amazing to me how this young man could inspire so much love and devotion and bring a community together.” It was a feel good sentiment that was obviously felt by all. The mayor of Santa Cruz declared 2011 the year of James Durbin. I’m not sure if they gave him a key to the city, but he was presented with surf board, adorned with his image. James spoke before he sang and told the crowd that he was not disappointed that he was eliminated from the competion, he was disappointed that his elimination meant he wouldn’t be able to have a welcome home celebration. It wasn’t until Friday evening, right before he was about to appear on Jay Leno, that he found out that Fox had made an exception for him. And then he sang…

The entire town of Santa Cruz is abuzz with the news that May 14th is Durbin Day. That is, of course, if James Durbin makes it to the final three this week on American Idol. We’ll know tomorrow. And if he does make the cut, our family is going to be there at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk bandstand to see our local boy perform.

A few nights ago we were  sitting outside enjoying an outdoor fire when the conversation turned to camping. Cheryl has been dogging her father for years to take her on a backpacking trip where the two of them hike into the woods, pitch a tent and fish for dinner. Apparently this is something Eva has longed to do as well, so the two of them cornered Paul and made him promise to take them. They also made me promise that I would not go since they know I don’t enjoy camping and would whine and complain the whole time and they are right about that.

Once it was agreed and a date was set for a weekend in July, Cheryl and Eva got busy planning their trip. They pulled out all of our camping books to decide on a destination and made notes and lists in a designated “camping notebook”. The supplies included two tents: one for them and one for Paul, just in case he snores (or eats too many beans, if you know what I mean.)  It was a joy to watch their excitement. And a delight for me to know that my daughter Eva would beg her stepfather to take her somewhere and feel comfortable and safe with him.

Later I told Paul, “These girls are so excited you’d think you had given them the moon. You’ve given them something to live for.”

I’ve always been a firm believer in letting my house to be the “kid house.” By that I mean, our home is the one where all of our kids’ friends come over after school to make messes, noise (squealing and/or heavy metal guitar music) and raid the fridge. And I’m not complaining. My mother always said when the kids and their friends are at your house at least you know where they are.  I agree.

My kids live with us all the time except every other weekend and even though Paul has a 50/50 split with his ex, his kids still come to our house every day before and after school. That means we have a full house pretty much all the time.

Yesterday Cheryl had a half day and she called me around noon to ask if she could bring five friends over for a few hours. (If you have five kids, what’s five more?) I said yes. When she got home she did the sweetest thing. She brought all five friends out to my studio so she could introduce them to me. She also introduced them to the dog, but that’s not the point. She had a big, happy smile on her face. She wanted her friends to meet her amazing and wonderful stepmom, I just know it. Seriously, I was both touched and proud that Cheryl demonstrated her good manners and made the effort to make the introductions. It left me with a big, happy smile on my face.

The kids are all back in school and just now settling in to their new routines. Eva is in 9th grade, a freshman, and she and Sophia ride to school together. Last weekend they went to their first football game. This will the last year that they will attend school together as Sophia will be going off to college next year. These are special times and we are trying to savor them. Paul and I both work from home and we are enjoying the after school hustle and bustle that accompanies having four teenagers living at home. They all congregate around the center island of the kitchen, eating snacks and  doing their homework (while listening to their iPods.) The three oldest are all taking Spanish and it is fun to hear them conjugating verbs. Mark helps Eva with her algebra. It is a nice blend.

This past week marked two great family gathering events in the Shwanda household.  Paul’s brother and five sisters all flew or drove into Santa Cruz (from as far away as Alabama and Ohio) for a family reunion  to celebrate Pop Pop’s 90th birthday. In addition, my ex-husband, Jared, took our two daughters, Sophia and Eva, to his niece’s wedding in New Jersey. Sophia and Eva got to spend the first part of the week with their step dad’s family and the second part of the week with their dad’s family. (Jared’s family is also rather large in that he has one sister and four brothers.)

It was a fun filled, busy and joyful occasion filled with lots of activities during the day with  surfing, sailing and  kayaking, and in the evenings at each other’s homes playing charades, board games and reminiscing over old photos of Pop Pop in the army and on his wedding day. Those were the moments when I looked at my girls blending in with their “step” aunts, uncles and cousins, enjoying themselves and feeling included, even though they don’t share the same heritage, history or genealogy. After Sophia and Eva left for the wedding in New Jersey, where I heard reports that they ripped up the dance floor with their East coast cousins, we had one final big party at our house on the last day of the reunion.

I had planned a menu of grilled chicken kabobs, homemade potato salad and coleslaw. It was  a pot luck and everyone brought their contribution. Paul’s older brother decided he wanted the family to take a trip down memory lane and asked his wife to prepare “bun burgers,” a dish their mother made for them as children. It stirred some fond and not so fond memories. (Apparently not everyone liked the bun burgers.) I didn’t quite get the recipe, but I watched them being prepared. Basically, you prepare ground beef like you are making hamburgers. Throw in some spices and some chopped onions, but instead of adding bread crumbs, pick out the bread from the tops of hamburger buns, which leaves a big O, tear it into pieces and add to the mix. The top of the bun is placed on the bottom half of the bun and then on a cookie sheet. Next, scoop up a  generous dollop of hamburger meat and place inside the opening of the top bun. Bake in the oven at 400 degrees and just before they are done, top with strips, in an X shape, of Kraft processed American cheese. Place back in oven until melted.

I have to say they were pretty darn good and could easily be adapted to something healthy and rather gourmet if using, say, ground turkey, whole wheat buns and  perhaps some goat cheese, instead of the fatty beef and fake cheese. The culinary nostalgia didn’t end there. No. There were fish sticks too! You know, the frozen kind that comes in a box with lots of fillers and mystery ingredients. They were a  once-a-week staple in Paul’s family’s house. Paul’s brother felt that no family reunion was complete without fish sticks and bun burgers. As we were standing around the kitchen, noshing on the retro delicacies, he lamented, “Too bad we don’t have fake milk to go with them.” Anyone who grew up in a large, budget stretching family in the 50′s and 60′s would know what fake milk is. I do. My mom used to take powdered milk, mix it with water and add it to the real milk to make it last a little longer. It was gross, but we accepted it because that’s just the way it was.

As Paul’s family reminisced about their childhood memories, I reflected on my own (I’m one of five kids.) and realized that big families are pretty much the same.  It isn’t just the food, the family vacations, the sibling squabbles and competition for the bathroom that they have in common, but rather the inherent bonds, life lessons and experiences that go with the territory. I’ve always said being part of a big family prepares you for life’s greatest challenges: To be able to get along with anyone, to know how to wait your turn, to accept delayed gratification and to tolerate things that can at times be somewhat unpleasant.

My thoughts wandered to the future as I pictured myself at Sophia’s or Eva’s wedding and imagined all the guests who would attend.  There would be my family, Jared’s family and  Paul’s. It would be  a blended family wedding… and one hell of a party.

Paul’s dad turned 90 on Friday, May 28th. We had a little family party for him and will have a much bigger party on June 20th with a family reunion with all of Paul’s 6 siblings and their families. His actual birthday was low key because another resident in the retirement community where he lives also had a birthday and kind of stole his thunder. She turned 105! There was an article about her in the local paper. Her name is Eula and she used to be  a cowgirl. Her secret to longevity is simple: “Appreciate what you have. Don’t make mountains out of molehills. Sleep with the window open.” Good advice I will follow. Especially the first part. We forget sometimes.

While I was out dress shopping with Eva on Saturday, Sophia was at the high school taking her SAT’s.  When she  finished around 1pm she was starving so she came home and picked up Cheryl to take her to Burger King and then for a ride down to the beach. Sophia treated Cheryl since Cheryl has no money and Sophia has some money from her babysitting job. Sophia is  very generous that way. She doesn’t ask to be reimbursed. She is a wonderful big sister. She  often treats both Cheryl and Eva to movies and Starbucks. She reminds me of my big sisters, Nina and Pam who were also very good to me. The difference, of course, is that I was born into a family of older sisters. Cheryl was not.

Cheryl once told me that she cried on our wedding day. When I asked her why she said, “I cried tears of joy that I finally had sisters.” Sophia and Eva were not so cheerful that day because at the time they often considered  Cheryl to be  ”INSANELY ANNOYING!!!” All that has changed. Now, they wear each other’s clothes, trade makeup, ride bikes to the beach, go to the movies, hang out talking in their rooms and do just about everything together. Eva and Cheryl have this ritual every weekend when we are altogether. They pull out Eva’s wipe board and write a weekend “to do” list with tasks such as: (The spelling and parentheses are theirs.)

1. Put lemon juice in our hair and lay out in the sun.

2. Work on our tans.

3. Go to da beach.

4. Partay (not really)

5. Go to D.J.’s and get candy.

6. Create a dance routine.

7. Make a movie of our dance routine.

8. Get a samich at Joe’s

9. Wash Joey

10. Have a picnic on the trampoline.

This is the life of a 12 and 13 year-old. And what a life it is. I always tell them, “Do not ever tell me you didn’t have a wonderful childhood.”