Wednesday, August 17, 2011

you know you've had a good summer when...

You know you've had a good summer when....
your swimsuits completely loose their elastic and start to sag...
You have so many different tan lines that you almost look like a tiger... all the blankets in your house smell like smoke from camping...
you know the best days and times to go to Lagoon to avoid the crowds....

You know your way around Lagoon better than the employees....

You are still a little sore from hiking....




You have a permanent chlorine smell that doesn't shower off...




Your car is full of sand and empty water bottles....

you have gone through 8 bottles of spray on sunscreen...

You have watched the moon rise while enjoying dinner in the back yard with friends...

You have worn scuff marks on the seat of your bike...

You have eaten tomatoes right off the vine...


You made home made ice cream....

you have played badmitten so much you have lost all the birdies...



Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Picture perfect

I was walking this morning with a friend of mine and the rode we walk on passes through open fields. In one of the fields was a flock of migrating cranes. They were beautiful birds and when they would take flight over the green alfafla their brown wings would turn gold in the early morning sunlight. When I saw these birds, my first thought was that I wished I had my camera. As though somehow, this moment would mean more if I could capture it, if I could keep it and show it off, if I could have a trophy to prove that I get up early and do good things (like walking)and don't you wish you were walking early too so you could see sights like this? I started thinking about this compulsive need I (and many like me)have to document every moment so they don't slip away, to hide behind a camera and watch the world though a lens instead of participating in it. It is hard to be in the present and take take things for what they are with out trying to "capture" them and "save" them. I wonder sometimes about the thousands of pictures we take of our kids. Every milestone of their life is documented. I overheard a conversation one at a Children's museum about how we are raising the most documented generation in history. Pictures of our great grandparents are precious because they are rare. Our great-great-grandparents might have had one picture taken of them their whole lives. Will our over-documenting of our children's lives seem cheap and meaningless to them or will they believe them selves to be super-stars stalked by their poperatzi paretns. Or maybe it doesn't have any meaning at all.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Taking off the training wheels and letting go...

Last week one of my kids friends mom suggested that we let our kids ride to the train track trail on their own. "ohh, they will have to ride on a busy road, with no side walk to get to the trail " I thought. " And they will have to cross three busy roads" I felt anxious about this but the other Mom reminded me of when we were kids and rode free for hours and about how kids need a certain amount of freedom. " I know, I know, but my kids aren't very street savvy" I confessed. I finally agreed (after calling Kelly to see if he agreed too) realizing that I was worried that my 11 year old might have trouble crossing a street. If that is truly the case, then I have failed as a parent. I believe that as parents, our job is to give our kids roots and wings, so as I watched our helmeted and sunscreened boys head off on a wild adventure to the convenience store, I repeated under my breath Roots and Wings, Roots and Wings. I want my kids to grow up believing in their ability to navigate the world and to have the confidence to solve their own problems. But desiring and doing are different and agonizing things. It never seems to get easier to take off the training wheels and let go of the bike.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

San Francisco- Spring Break 2011

Our first stop was Lake Tahoe. I had never been there before and I am so glad we went. It is absolutely beautiful.

If a picture tells a thousand words, what do a thousand pictures tell? I didn't quite take a thousand pictures in San Francisco but I did take a lot.



So here it is: Our week in pictures





















China Town











The Palace of Fine Arts


Monday, April 11, 2011

April Fools

Swedish Meatballs...or is it?
April fools day was on Friday, which is early out day at school. The kids busted me as I was trying to hide the fake "meatballs" (no bake chocolate cookies covered in vanilla ice cream sauce). So for dinner I gave them real meatballs. They were not amused. We did play the joke on Kelly when he got home from work. He knew something was up when the rice was ice cold.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Someday I'll....

LINGER
Someday I will master the art of lingering. And I do believe it is an art. The ability to slowly enjoy a dinner out without the pressure of getting back to put the kids to bed, without thinking about how much you will have to pay the babysitter. To be somewhere without the feeling that you need to be somewhere else, doing something else, to get home before the kids do, to get back in time to get the kids to bed. It sounds so pleasant to sit in a cafe with a good friend and linger long after the last bite is gone.
I remind myself a lot that my life is not my own right now. I am a parent and I live for four other people. It is the mantra that I recite when I hear the little one call from his bed as I am on my way out the door to go running early in the morning. My life is not my own so I will lay down with you until you are back to sleep. I think it when I have to drop what I am doing and run with the little one to the bathroom because we are potty training. Or when I am getting ready to run errands and the little one decides to fall asleep. Change of plans, well go later... or tomorrow.
But all this compromise, altruism, reconciling (what ever you want to call it) has resulted in some very bad personal habits. They say that every virtue can become a vice when carried to the extreme. I want to cultivate the ability to be somewhere without the anxiety of feeling like I need to be somewhere else. I have lost my linger and someday I want to get it back.