Watching dad is pure entertainment.
And since it's February, we shape our pizza into a heart.
With fresh kale from the garden and good mozzarella, Dr. Byron makes a wicked good pie.
And that my friends makes for a very happy wife.
Showing posts with label We Are Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label We Are Family. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
First, imagine this is Friday
Because I meant to post on Friday, but instead I sat back and watched my husband and kids. Friday night is still pizza night around here, and like all rituals it's become a calm, soothing blanket to any stress from the week. Pizza night makes us happy.
Watching dad is pure entertainment.
And since it's February, we shape our pizza into a heart.
With fresh kale from the garden and good mozzarella, Dr. Byron makes a wicked good pie.
And that my friends makes for a very happy wife.
Watching dad is pure entertainment.
And since it's February, we shape our pizza into a heart.
With fresh kale from the garden and good mozzarella, Dr. Byron makes a wicked good pie.
And that my friends makes for a very happy wife.
Monday, December 19, 2011
For the record, kids, that guy is not Santa
The other night we attended the Christmas Tree lighting in Mercer Village, complete with a professional singer who filled the air with beautiful carols, professional artists selling their wares, and Santa. Now I've seen a few Santas in my day, and let me tell you, this guy takes the cake as possibly the least inspired Santa ever. I have to wonder if the guy was roped into this by his friends, "Come on down, we'll pay you 20 bucks if you dress up as Santa." In the photo with him and Grace, they look equally uncomfortable. Her eyes read, "Do I really have to sit on this guy's lap?"
Nevertheless, we will be purchasing the picture below (and yes, this is a screen shot, naughty me, there will be coal in my stocking for sure).
Nevertheless, we will be purchasing the picture below (and yes, this is a screen shot, naughty me, there will be coal in my stocking for sure).
Sunday, December 18, 2011
An education
I don't know if this is true of all kids or just my kids, but to Grace and Julia, their dad is the playful parent. Craig will lay on the floor and act out scenes, including sound effects, with animal figurines or army guys--an activity that would last only five minutes with me. He doesn't mind being used as a jungle gym, and he can provide horseback rides upon request. I'm not a total slouch in this area, but play with me tends to be more crafty and doesn't require a falsetto voice.
I think Craig takes the girl's education on all things play very seriously or maybe it's just that he's still a kid at heart. Over the last several years he has tried to cultivate in them an appreciation of toys from his past (which is partly why I think his efforts aren't really about Grace and Julia, but about playtime for him), so it should be no surprise that Star Wars is very, very important in our lives. Now the girls haven't actually seen much of the movies--their education centers primarily on play with figurines and storytelling. By the time they do see the movies, I imagine each of them will be able anticipate the plot-line and cite arcane details.
Why am I telling you this? Well this whole post is geared to show you some of Craig's night-time ritual with the girls. I can't remember when this started, but for some time he has been reading old Star Wars comics as bedtime stories. I wish you could actually be in the room to watch Grace and Julia pepper him with questions or hear his impersonation of C3PO. Life is made of moments, right? And I love these moments.
I think Craig takes the girl's education on all things play very seriously or maybe it's just that he's still a kid at heart. Over the last several years he has tried to cultivate in them an appreciation of toys from his past (which is partly why I think his efforts aren't really about Grace and Julia, but about playtime for him), so it should be no surprise that Star Wars is very, very important in our lives. Now the girls haven't actually seen much of the movies--their education centers primarily on play with figurines and storytelling. By the time they do see the movies, I imagine each of them will be able anticipate the plot-line and cite arcane details.
Why am I telling you this? Well this whole post is geared to show you some of Craig's night-time ritual with the girls. I can't remember when this started, but for some time he has been reading old Star Wars comics as bedtime stories. I wish you could actually be in the room to watch Grace and Julia pepper him with questions or hear his impersonation of C3PO. Life is made of moments, right? And I love these moments.
Monday, November 28, 2011
One moment in a million that I don't want to forget
For several days Grace has followed her father around with questions about Santa Claus (several months ago she asked similar questions about the tooth fairy after reading a book in the school library). He pushed the questions off, worrying that I would be hurt if not included in the discussion. Finally this morning she wrapped her arms around my waist and said, "Mom, I keep asking Dad about Santa, can you talk to me about it now?" She asked me this 15 minutes before school started, so I put her off one last time, "We'll talk about it tonight, okay, before you go to bed."
She had come to her own conclusion, of course, and hoped against hope that somehow her Dad and I might be able to extend the illusion a little bit longer. Oh, how I wanted to extend the illusion. Nearly every day I almost gasp at the passage of time. Where is my wee toddler, the imp, the squirrelly little Grace who made me want to scream in exasperation and kiss her all over at exactly the same time? Now she's seven year old Grace--smart, inquisitive, thoughtful--when she tilts her head in thought, concentrating on her homework, I catch a glimpse of the Grace she will be years from now. Talk about heartache.
So tonight, as her sister slurped on a popsicle in the kitchen, the three of us cuddled on the sofa. Craig opened the conversation, "So you wanted to ask us about Santa?" Her eyes said everything, and Craig and I started to squint our own eyes to keep the tears from falling.
"I think Santa maybe isn't real."
"Have kids been talking about this at school?"
"No, no they haven't."
"So what made you wonder?"
"Well, the tooth fairy made me wonder since I know about that."
Her voice was starting to quiver at this point, and I asked her "how does that make you feel?"
Tears trickled down her cheek, "Well, it breaks my heart because I can feel the imagination going away, because Santa is part of my imagination."
In tearful chorus, Craig and I answered, "yes, yes, we know, we know." And then we went on to confirm her suspicions and to talk about the spirit of Santa Claus and how this knowledge won't change the contents of her stocking. But I don't think she was too worried about her stocking. I remember all too vividly that feeling--that the ability to lose myself in an imaginary world was slipping away. I didn't want that to happen, and neither does my girl.
She will take this confirmation in stride, as most kids do. At fifteen, I still remember running down the stairs to check my stocking, wondering aloud at what Santa had brought. He never really went away completely, and I hope he'll stay for her too.
She had come to her own conclusion, of course, and hoped against hope that somehow her Dad and I might be able to extend the illusion a little bit longer. Oh, how I wanted to extend the illusion. Nearly every day I almost gasp at the passage of time. Where is my wee toddler, the imp, the squirrelly little Grace who made me want to scream in exasperation and kiss her all over at exactly the same time? Now she's seven year old Grace--smart, inquisitive, thoughtful--when she tilts her head in thought, concentrating on her homework, I catch a glimpse of the Grace she will be years from now. Talk about heartache.
So tonight, as her sister slurped on a popsicle in the kitchen, the three of us cuddled on the sofa. Craig opened the conversation, "So you wanted to ask us about Santa?" Her eyes said everything, and Craig and I started to squint our own eyes to keep the tears from falling.
"I think Santa maybe isn't real."
"Have kids been talking about this at school?"
"No, no they haven't."
"So what made you wonder?"
"Well, the tooth fairy made me wonder since I know about that."
Her voice was starting to quiver at this point, and I asked her "how does that make you feel?"
Tears trickled down her cheek, "Well, it breaks my heart because I can feel the imagination going away, because Santa is part of my imagination."
In tearful chorus, Craig and I answered, "yes, yes, we know, we know." And then we went on to confirm her suspicions and to talk about the spirit of Santa Claus and how this knowledge won't change the contents of her stocking. But I don't think she was too worried about her stocking. I remember all too vividly that feeling--that the ability to lose myself in an imaginary world was slipping away. I didn't want that to happen, and neither does my girl.
She will take this confirmation in stride, as most kids do. At fifteen, I still remember running down the stairs to check my stocking, wondering aloud at what Santa had brought. He never really went away completely, and I hope he'll stay for her too.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
The Day After
Trick or Treat! Halloween was a great success. Rather than brave the crowds in Macon's premier trick or treat neighborhood, we walked the Intown Macon route. This meant a lot of walking and not quite as much candy, but really, how much candy does one need! We still came home with two full baskets.
So, costumes. You had already previewed little Laura Ingalls. I had a few more modifications (buttons and elastic) before she was ready to go. Then it was all about Princess Leia. Craig made the ceremony belt (which, with the hair, really makes the costume), and I finished the hem on the gown. We dressed the girls, and I did their hair. I tell you, a four dollar beard from Party City totally rocked Leia's hair! We met up with Grace's buddy, Noah, and stormed the neighborhood.
I love Halloween. I wish I lived in a neighborhood with trick-or-treating (we had zero last night), but you can't have everything. I hope you all had a awesome night. I'm already looking forward to Halloween 2012!
Pictures from last night:
A little more prairie girl:
Thursday, September 1, 2011
A deer in the woods.
I've meant to detail our trip north this summer, and I'm obviously failing on that count. I don't think I've sorted out the trip in my mind yet. It was good, parts were difficult, a lot like life only we were on vacation (and one sometimes expects vacation to be less like life). So, while I let the trip rattle around my cranium, I will work to upload the remaining pictures (you've seen some of South Carolina in the sidebar, which truly lived up to the term vacation, so much so that Julia tells us regularly that she would like to live in South Carolina, in cabin 5 specifically).
Here is one image near and dear to me: the girls and me in the woods behind the house where I was raised.
We're standing on the remnants of the trail I took every morning, just in time, to catch the school bus. At this particular spot I once startled a young female deer. I was late, running full speed with my head down. I raised my eyes and saw her. I skittered to a stop only steps from where she stood, our eyes met, and we each ran screaming in the opposite direction. I don't recall whether I made the bus that morning. I do recall panting as I hit the door to the house and yelling at my mother, "I almost ran into a deer on the trail." My children are more likely to run into feral cats than deer here in Macon.
There are many more pictures (and stories) to share. I will get to them soon.
PS. For all of you worried by my last post, we're okay. I don't want to write much more because I need to have boundaries about what I share about my kids.
Here is one image near and dear to me: the girls and me in the woods behind the house where I was raised.
We're standing on the remnants of the trail I took every morning, just in time, to catch the school bus. At this particular spot I once startled a young female deer. I was late, running full speed with my head down. I raised my eyes and saw her. I skittered to a stop only steps from where she stood, our eyes met, and we each ran screaming in the opposite direction. I don't recall whether I made the bus that morning. I do recall panting as I hit the door to the house and yelling at my mother, "I almost ran into a deer on the trail." My children are more likely to run into feral cats than deer here in Macon.
There are many more pictures (and stories) to share. I will get to them soon.
PS. For all of you worried by my last post, we're okay. I don't want to write much more because I need to have boundaries about what I share about my kids.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Lemonade
When life hands me lemons, I don't make lemonade. I cry. And then when I've cried myself out, I look for some sun, some happiness. We've had a lot of lemons around here lately, and today after crying off and on for a week, I'm making my lemonade, finding my sunshine.
I put on an apron my grandmother made and wore. I love that I have her with me (even though I miss her so much at times that I feel her loss like a weight). The girls and I made muffins.
Then I turned on some music, stuff that my kids love, and we danced around the kitchen.
I remember that I have her:
And her:
And I have a partner in all this. He's working overtime to make sure we're all okay, and we will be, no matter what happens.
I put on an apron my grandmother made and wore. I love that I have her with me (even though I miss her so much at times that I feel her loss like a weight). The girls and I made muffins.
Then I turned on some music, stuff that my kids love, and we danced around the kitchen.
I remember that I have her:
And her:
And I have a partner in all this. He's working overtime to make sure we're all okay, and we will be, no matter what happens.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Dad's day
We're home, finally, after a day spent out with our favorite guy, the man we Byron girls love most.
Happy Father's Day, Craig, and happy day to the other two dads in our lives, Marv and Dan.
Happy Father's Day, Craig, and happy day to the other two dads in our lives, Marv and Dan.
Monday, June 6, 2011
When it's 104 outside
You do not take your children to a water park (even though you promised this for one child's birthday). Instead you head to an aquarium (which is insanely cold). This makes the child a little bit happy, but not really. She would much rather you roast her on a spit over the wave pool.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
mix tape
In lieu of photos, which are trapped in my camera, let me share some highlights.
Number 1. The birthday.
Imagine you're at a sporting event, the crowd is eager to see the champion crowned. The PA crackles, "Announcing, our phenomenal four year old, Julia Byron." The crowd cheers.
Reporters surround the champ, "Julia, do you feel like you're four?"
With a slightly stunned expression on her face, she replies. "Um, no, I don't feel like I'm four."
And there you have it, Julia's fourth birthday. I'm happy to report that the following day she started to feel "a little bit four" and the day after that pronounced that, indeed, she feels Four Years Old!
She (and Grace) were extremely surprised when my parents arrived on her big day. They had guessed nearly every other relative (Uncle Paul, Aunt Wendy, Cousins Anne and Whitney, Quentin and David), and they were ecstatic that Grandma and Grandpa drove for three whole days to get here. We had a wonderful time, but like most events where I am intimately involved in the preparations, there are very few photos. Typical.
Number 2. A word for summer.
Last year, the word was "travel" or maybe "camping" and this year it will be "sorbet" (and later "Yooper"). If you haven't noticed the weather channel, then perhaps you don't know that it's REALLY EFFING HOT down here. 100 yesterday. 101 today. I'm not happy. Yes, we're going to the pool almost every day, but the pool is starting to feel like warm backwash. For sanity and happiness, I'm combatting this heat wave with homemade sorbet: watermelon, cherry, strawberry, YUM. At some point my love affair with sorbet will end and then I will cling to my next summer word, Yooper. We'll be headed north to the itty-bitty town of my childhood next month. One week with family where we'll celebrate (early) my parents 50th wedding anniversary.
Number 3. Speaking of anniversaries.
It's number ten for us on June 30th. Months ago, as I contemplated No. 10, thoughts of a romantic weekend away flitted across my mind. Then reality set in, so we adjusted expectations and plans. The Byrons of Georgia will spend a week together in the mountains of South Carolina (with a cabin on a lake). My sister, who hasn't yet experienced the joys of coordinating romance when you have children, was slightly horrified that we are taking Grace and Julia along. As I described Betsy's response to Craig one evening, Grace interrupted "But Mom, Grandma and Grandpa are taking their kids with them on their anniversary."
Right you are, Grace. We're going to have a blast.
So that's us. It's hot. I'm cranky, but we have sorbet and plans for lots of fun. I hope everyone is enjoying their summer.
Number 1. The birthday.
Imagine you're at a sporting event, the crowd is eager to see the champion crowned. The PA crackles, "Announcing, our phenomenal four year old, Julia Byron." The crowd cheers.
Reporters surround the champ, "Julia, do you feel like you're four?"
With a slightly stunned expression on her face, she replies. "Um, no, I don't feel like I'm four."
And there you have it, Julia's fourth birthday. I'm happy to report that the following day she started to feel "a little bit four" and the day after that pronounced that, indeed, she feels Four Years Old!
She (and Grace) were extremely surprised when my parents arrived on her big day. They had guessed nearly every other relative (Uncle Paul, Aunt Wendy, Cousins Anne and Whitney, Quentin and David), and they were ecstatic that Grandma and Grandpa drove for three whole days to get here. We had a wonderful time, but like most events where I am intimately involved in the preparations, there are very few photos. Typical.
Number 2. A word for summer.
Last year, the word was "travel" or maybe "camping" and this year it will be "sorbet" (and later "Yooper"). If you haven't noticed the weather channel, then perhaps you don't know that it's REALLY EFFING HOT down here. 100 yesterday. 101 today. I'm not happy. Yes, we're going to the pool almost every day, but the pool is starting to feel like warm backwash. For sanity and happiness, I'm combatting this heat wave with homemade sorbet: watermelon, cherry, strawberry, YUM. At some point my love affair with sorbet will end and then I will cling to my next summer word, Yooper. We'll be headed north to the itty-bitty town of my childhood next month. One week with family where we'll celebrate (early) my parents 50th wedding anniversary.
Number 3. Speaking of anniversaries.
It's number ten for us on June 30th. Months ago, as I contemplated No. 10, thoughts of a romantic weekend away flitted across my mind. Then reality set in, so we adjusted expectations and plans. The Byrons of Georgia will spend a week together in the mountains of South Carolina (with a cabin on a lake). My sister, who hasn't yet experienced the joys of coordinating romance when you have children, was slightly horrified that we are taking Grace and Julia along. As I described Betsy's response to Craig one evening, Grace interrupted "But Mom, Grandma and Grandpa are taking their kids with them on their anniversary."
Right you are, Grace. We're going to have a blast.
So that's us. It's hot. I'm cranky, but we have sorbet and plans for lots of fun. I hope everyone is enjoying their summer.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
swimsuit season
One would think that a post like my last one might open the flood gates. Nahh. Okay, so I've wanted to post, really, truly. I've just been busy (and by busy I mean going to the beach, attending end of the school year festivities, and playing at the pool--you can say it, I suck). Anyhoo. Here's life in some pictures (with more to upload after I go through all 394 of them, yeesh).
Let's start with Folly.
The water was rough, but that didn't stop these three.
We traveled to South Carolina to attend the wedding of a dear friend (from Michigan whom we met in Augusta). He and his bride decided to tie the knot on Folly Beach.
Bryan works the shalwar kameez.
What a great excuse for a beach weekend (with the added benefit of renting a condo with my best friend and her best baby).
With my best babies, all dressed up.
I don't think I can ever get enough of this baby.
And neither can Julia (or Grace for that matter).
Then it was back home for the end of the school year. Our 1st grade girl came through with FLYING (best reader in class) colors.
With best teacher (trademarked) ever.
And our other girl rocked the 3K stage.
Singin' about Jesus. Apologies for the low quality picture.
What's an end of the year without dinner out at their favorite restaurant (parasols optional).
And, drumroll please, sleeping on the Star Wars sheets from their daddy's youth (thanks, Grammy, for making the night special).
Now we're in summer break mode, which means swimming lessons in the morning and the Mercer Pool in the afternoon. My house isn't clean, my hair feels like a bristle brush, and I don't care. Julia's 4th birthday is this Friday. Give me a moment while I suppress a sob. My parents are due to arrive on her big day (SURPRISE, SURPRISE), and you are guaranteed more pictures to come.
Let's start with Folly.
The water was rough, but that didn't stop these three.
We traveled to South Carolina to attend the wedding of a dear friend (from Michigan whom we met in Augusta). He and his bride decided to tie the knot on Folly Beach.
Bryan works the shalwar kameez.
What a great excuse for a beach weekend (with the added benefit of renting a condo with my best friend and her best baby).
With my best babies, all dressed up.
I don't think I can ever get enough of this baby.
And neither can Julia (or Grace for that matter).
Then it was back home for the end of the school year. Our 1st grade girl came through with FLYING (best reader in class) colors.
With best teacher (trademarked) ever.
And our other girl rocked the 3K stage.
Singin' about Jesus. Apologies for the low quality picture.
What's an end of the year without dinner out at their favorite restaurant (parasols optional).
And, drumroll please, sleeping on the Star Wars sheets from their daddy's youth (thanks, Grammy, for making the night special).
Now we're in summer break mode, which means swimming lessons in the morning and the Mercer Pool in the afternoon. My house isn't clean, my hair feels like a bristle brush, and I don't care. Julia's 4th birthday is this Friday. Give me a moment while I suppress a sob. My parents are due to arrive on her big day (SURPRISE, SURPRISE), and you are guaranteed more pictures to come.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Belated
I think about blogging every other day or so. I just can't come up with much to say. April has been a particularly unfriendly month to us, and we've retreated to lick our wounds, both figurative and, in Julia's case, literal (she's added a scar to her chin, knee and foot--her new name is Craig Jr.).
The low points include spring break, which came carrying a suitcase full of viral and bacterial illness. Ever heard of rotavirus? The girls got it, and everyone, including Grammy who so kindly agreed to watch the girls while Craig and I were in Maine, suffered. Oh yeah, we went to Maine for very quick trip (48 hours). The visit wasn't a low point necessarily, but it also wasn't the high point we anticipated. Then Easter came and we felt exhausted (and still sick), and it was hard to be enthused about anything. I did take a few pictures of the girls, but after reviewing them, I realized that Grace is a sickly shade a green in all the photos (I won't be sharing). Finally on Wednesday the girls returned to school, in time for Julia to attend her field trip, and I am hopeful (please, Please, PLEASE) that we are truly on the mend.
I'm wallowing. I know it. Sick kids do this to me. In a little over two weeks, we will be sitting at the beach with our best friends, and my attitude will be forced to adjust. Folly here we come.
The low points include spring break, which came carrying a suitcase full of viral and bacterial illness. Ever heard of rotavirus? The girls got it, and everyone, including Grammy who so kindly agreed to watch the girls while Craig and I were in Maine, suffered. Oh yeah, we went to Maine for very quick trip (48 hours). The visit wasn't a low point necessarily, but it also wasn't the high point we anticipated. Then Easter came and we felt exhausted (and still sick), and it was hard to be enthused about anything. I did take a few pictures of the girls, but after reviewing them, I realized that Grace is a sickly shade a green in all the photos (I won't be sharing). Finally on Wednesday the girls returned to school, in time for Julia to attend her field trip, and I am hopeful (please, Please, PLEASE) that we are truly on the mend.
I'm wallowing. I know it. Sick kids do this to me. In a little over two weeks, we will be sitting at the beach with our best friends, and my attitude will be forced to adjust. Folly here we come.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
36 is the new 6
Ever since the girls received kickboards for Christmas, Craig has been green with envy. By New Year's, Grace was telling me, "We NEED to get one for Dad!" Three months later his wish came true: a Monster Kick Board just for him. While it would have been great to surprise him, Grace was a bit too excited (she told anyone who would listen, often with Craig in the same room). In any case, he did his part by feigning complete surprise. Not that his surprise mattered, he LOVES it.
Thirty six today, but not a minute older than six in his mind.
Thirty six today, but not a minute older than six in his mind.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Happy New Year, from us
Last night we went downtown to watch the Cherry Blossom drop (it's Macon, of course, it's a Cherry Blossom). Last night was the first time we've been out for New Year's Eve since our trip to Paris five years ago. I know, I know, we need to get out more. Minutes before midnight I closed my eyes and tilted my head toward the stars. I have so many hopes for 2011, and more that a few sorries that I'd like to leave behind. Out with the old and in with the good, I say. Let's start this year right.
I don't want to chuck 2010 though. The truth is that it was an amazing year for us, and the highlights are many. Grace completed her first year of elementary school (how did she get to be so big!). I had a four month freelance job (the longest and most rewarding in recent memory) that funded our summer adventure. Julia embraced being three with gusto ("No, I not a dictator!"), and Craig managed to push his research even further, publishing with and engaging undergraduates in ways he never imagined. Our year ended on a rough note (two bronchial infections for my parents with a long, long recovery), but I can't help but be incredibly hopeful for 2011.
However you celebrated, wherever you were, I hope you rang in the New Year with high hopes and love. Happy New Year everyone, from us.
Friday, December 17, 2010
I'm a parent, for real.
My parents are in town, and I (we) have been busy. Hence no blogging (which is a pretty common occurrence around these parts since our summer sojourn). Prior to my parents arrival, we managed to finish our holiday preparations (after much grief from Grace: "MOM, everyone else already has their christmas tree!"). We outdid ourselves this year: 11 feet of balsam goodness. I'm still amazed that Craig and I managed to get this beast into the stand by ourselves. It almost didn't fit.
Both girls were sick the night we put up the tree and got into jammies early. They did rouse themselves for dancing with the tree skirt.
Up next was a trip to the library to meet the mouse from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. This was one of those events that seemed like a good idea, but in reality meant waiting too long for a decrepit mouse to hobble into the room. It didn't even tap it's toe to the mouse song. The girls seemed unfazed by the poor performance, which, I suppose, is what matters.
And then we had the whirl of Grace's Christmas concert, Julia's Christmas Pageant, and Grace's Christmas party (all in one morning). For some reason, while watching Julia and her classmates perform Christmas carols, I was struck with the thought: I'm really a parent. I know I'm a mom, but do you ever have those moments where your life comes into crystal clear focus? Julia singing about angels did this to me.
I hope your holiday preparations and celebrations are filling you with joy. If not, email me, and I'll send you the video of Julia singing Feliz Navidad (while picking her nose). Merry Christmas, indeed.
Both girls were sick the night we put up the tree and got into jammies early. They did rouse themselves for dancing with the tree skirt.
Up next was a trip to the library to meet the mouse from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. This was one of those events that seemed like a good idea, but in reality meant waiting too long for a decrepit mouse to hobble into the room. It didn't even tap it's toe to the mouse song. The girls seemed unfazed by the poor performance, which, I suppose, is what matters.
And then we had the whirl of Grace's Christmas concert, Julia's Christmas Pageant, and Grace's Christmas party (all in one morning). For some reason, while watching Julia and her classmates perform Christmas carols, I was struck with the thought: I'm really a parent. I know I'm a mom, but do you ever have those moments where your life comes into crystal clear focus? Julia singing about angels did this to me.
I hope your holiday preparations and celebrations are filling you with joy. If not, email me, and I'll send you the video of Julia singing Feliz Navidad (while picking her nose). Merry Christmas, indeed.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Friday night is pizza night
At the start of the school year, back in August, Craig set a challenge for himself: learn how to make really good pizza. In less than a month he had perfected his crust, and I found a stellar sauce recipe. Craig knew he had not only met his challenge but mastered pizza when Grace ate seven pieces at one sitting. I bow down to his mad skills.
Here's to Fridays, pizza, husbands who kick ass in the kitchen, and family ritual. Hope you all have a great weekend
Here's to Fridays, pizza, husbands who kick ass in the kitchen, and family ritual. Hope you all have a great weekend
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Halloween 2010
Introducing...
Word Girl and Sacajawea
Every year when October rolls around my office turns into a sewing room, as I madly try to complete costumes the girls have chosen. Not surprisingly, each year they get a little more complicated. Thankfully, my sewing capabilities have improved over time. I doubt I could have handled Sacajawea five years ago.
Though October turned out to be a crunch month for us, I enjoyed these projects, and what's more, the girls were absolutely thrilled with the results. Word girl has flown around our neighborhood a number of times (not only on Halloween), and Sacajawea will be worn for years to come (Julia's called dibs for Halloween 2012). We put them to use too--trick or treating on Saturday with Grace's buddy, Noah, and scaring the animals at Zoo Atlanta's Boo at the Zoo on Sunday. Now we're all worn out.
We hope you all had a great Halloween (and it's Halloween, people, not Fall Fest or Harvest Fest, as so many of my more religiously minded neighbors might tell you). Enjoy the pictures and video.
Word Girl and Sacajawea
Every year when October rolls around my office turns into a sewing room, as I madly try to complete costumes the girls have chosen. Not surprisingly, each year they get a little more complicated. Thankfully, my sewing capabilities have improved over time. I doubt I could have handled Sacajawea five years ago.
Though October turned out to be a crunch month for us, I enjoyed these projects, and what's more, the girls were absolutely thrilled with the results. Word girl has flown around our neighborhood a number of times (not only on Halloween), and Sacajawea will be worn for years to come (Julia's called dibs for Halloween 2012). We put them to use too--trick or treating on Saturday with Grace's buddy, Noah, and scaring the animals at Zoo Atlanta's Boo at the Zoo on Sunday. Now we're all worn out.
We hope you all had a great Halloween (and it's Halloween, people, not Fall Fest or Harvest Fest, as so many of my more religiously minded neighbors might tell you). Enjoy the pictures and video.
Monday, October 4, 2010
June 26-29: Going East
We exited I-90 onto Wyoming Hwy 14 early in the morning on the 26th. We were headed north to Devil's Tower. The clouds were low and misty on the rolling hills and cattle land, and we couldn't help but feel the difference in our landscape. We had said our goodbyes to the mountains when we descended out of the Bighorn Range the day before. As we crested a small hill and caught sight of Devil's Tower, with dark clouds rimming the top, I understood how one might experience a sense of foreboding when seeing the tower for the first time, but it was hard for me to identify with that sensation with these two pixies in Craig's arms.
We made our way to the visitor's center and then started our hike around the base of the tower. During the month of June, there is a voluntary cessation of climbing activities so that native american groups can hold ceremonies. Being voluntary, not all climbers observe this break in activity. I'm sure the numbers were down, but we still saw quite a few ascending. We watched as they moved, hand over hand, up the columns of basalt.
The trail around the base is paved, which made for easy hiking for the girls. There were also lots of stops with built in binoculars, and we all enjoyed watching birds circle the summit. I think it took us a little over an hour to complete the loop and then it was back in the car and back to I-90 as we made our way into the Black Hills of South Dakota.
Like the stretch of highway between Yellowstone and Cody, this portion of I-90 was very familiar to me as well. Half of the field camp I attended and taught was spent in the Black Hills mapping metamorphic and igneous rocks. For anyone that's been to this part of South Dakota, you know how magnificent the geology can be. You also know how terribly touristy it is as well. Keystone, the town closest to Mount Rushmore, reminds me a lot of Pigeon Forge, Tennnessee (home of Dollywood and other Appalachian mountain tourist traps). I'm all for making the natural treasures of our nation available to everyone, I'm just not a fan of the commercialization that crowds these spaces. Thank goodness for national parks.
In any case, with rain spitting on us from above, we arrived at Mt Rushmore by mid afternoon.
There have been so many changes to this monument that I didn't recognize any of the old facilities. This is a good thing. Fifteen years ago, I didn't think Mt. Rushmore was much a monument, and now, every part of the visitor experience is geared toward celebrating our nation and the presidents whose faces are carved into granite. Grace thought it was cool because she had learned about Mt. Rushmore in school. Julia thought it was cool because it seemed so civilized.
Getting out of Rushmore (and all the tourist crap/traffic that surrounds it) took us more time than we would have liked. We still wanted to see the Badlands before we called it a night, so we had to cover a fair amount of ground in a short period of time. We stopped in Wall, South Dakota (home of Wall Drug, another tourist wasteland) to grab some sub sandwiches, and then continued onto the park for dinner.
I love the badlands. Chalk that up to spending six years as a fossil preparator. Badlands=fossils. Badlands also equals beauty.
I feel right when I'm in badlands.
We took the long route through the park, stopping to see fossil exhibits and prairie dog villages. I could have stayed for days. We only had three hours. As we left the park, I took one final picture: our hats resting on the dashboard. I've had that field hat for 15 years. It's been to India, Pakistan, and Turkey, and yet, this summer, this trip, was the best time I've ever had. The memories we made as a family are priceless. We changed during those three and a half weeks. We grew individually and as a whole. I'm so thankful to Craig for making the trip possible, and to Grace and Julia for being game.
We spent two more nights on the road, and we learned just how much we don't like to stay in hotels. Finally on the 28th, we arrived in DeForest, Wisconsin, where my Aunt Bev and Uncle Dave opened their home to us. It had been over three weeks since my kids had been in a house, and boy, they were ready. Bev and Dave have grand kids, so their house has toys. Julia and Grace were THRILLED. At bedtime that night, we gave Julia a choice: sleep in a bed or in second cousin Mason's crib (note that she's been out of a crib for 9 months). No contest. She wanted the crib. I think she probably would have stayed at Bev and Dave's indefinitely, but we had a few more miles to go.
On June 29th, we boarded a ferry to take us from Milwaukee, Wisconsin to Muskegon, Michigan. Months earlier, when we were planning our trip, the girls were most excited about the ferry ride. At that time, they couldn't conceive of mountain ranges and wildlife out the window. Regardless of everything we had seen and done, the ferry was still a major highlight though. The girls couldn't wait for the ferry to arrive (and had an even harder time waiting to board).
We finally boarded a little after lunch and three hours later we made land, with Grandma and Grandpa waving from the shore.
While we still had three weeks left of our vacation (divided between Michigan and Indiana), the western part of our trip was done, and likewise, this travelogue is concluded. I'll upload the pictures from visits with the grandparents at another time. My apologies for taking such a long time to finish this series. Who would have thought that we would be so busy when we returned? Of course, we were busy. School started for everyone except me with all associated responsibilities. Whole weeks flashed by in an instant, it seems, and I marvel that we had such a long spell this summer of uninterrupted time off.
I'm happy and relieved that this log is finished. I hope that years from now the girls can look back and see the trip anew. I'll remember our summer as a magical time. I can always transport myself back to a moment in the Tetons when I asked Grace, "What do you want to do next summer? And she answered, "This. Can we do this again? Because this has been the best summer of my life." Mine too.
As always, here are the slideshows.
Thanks for reading (and thanks Mom for prodding me to finish the series).
We made our way to the visitor's center and then started our hike around the base of the tower. During the month of June, there is a voluntary cessation of climbing activities so that native american groups can hold ceremonies. Being voluntary, not all climbers observe this break in activity. I'm sure the numbers were down, but we still saw quite a few ascending. We watched as they moved, hand over hand, up the columns of basalt.
The trail around the base is paved, which made for easy hiking for the girls. There were also lots of stops with built in binoculars, and we all enjoyed watching birds circle the summit. I think it took us a little over an hour to complete the loop and then it was back in the car and back to I-90 as we made our way into the Black Hills of South Dakota.
Like the stretch of highway between Yellowstone and Cody, this portion of I-90 was very familiar to me as well. Half of the field camp I attended and taught was spent in the Black Hills mapping metamorphic and igneous rocks. For anyone that's been to this part of South Dakota, you know how magnificent the geology can be. You also know how terribly touristy it is as well. Keystone, the town closest to Mount Rushmore, reminds me a lot of Pigeon Forge, Tennnessee (home of Dollywood and other Appalachian mountain tourist traps). I'm all for making the natural treasures of our nation available to everyone, I'm just not a fan of the commercialization that crowds these spaces. Thank goodness for national parks.
In any case, with rain spitting on us from above, we arrived at Mt Rushmore by mid afternoon.
There have been so many changes to this monument that I didn't recognize any of the old facilities. This is a good thing. Fifteen years ago, I didn't think Mt. Rushmore was much a monument, and now, every part of the visitor experience is geared toward celebrating our nation and the presidents whose faces are carved into granite. Grace thought it was cool because she had learned about Mt. Rushmore in school. Julia thought it was cool because it seemed so civilized.
Getting out of Rushmore (and all the tourist crap/traffic that surrounds it) took us more time than we would have liked. We still wanted to see the Badlands before we called it a night, so we had to cover a fair amount of ground in a short period of time. We stopped in Wall, South Dakota (home of Wall Drug, another tourist wasteland) to grab some sub sandwiches, and then continued onto the park for dinner.
I love the badlands. Chalk that up to spending six years as a fossil preparator. Badlands=fossils. Badlands also equals beauty.
I feel right when I'm in badlands.
We took the long route through the park, stopping to see fossil exhibits and prairie dog villages. I could have stayed for days. We only had three hours. As we left the park, I took one final picture: our hats resting on the dashboard. I've had that field hat for 15 years. It's been to India, Pakistan, and Turkey, and yet, this summer, this trip, was the best time I've ever had. The memories we made as a family are priceless. We changed during those three and a half weeks. We grew individually and as a whole. I'm so thankful to Craig for making the trip possible, and to Grace and Julia for being game.
We spent two more nights on the road, and we learned just how much we don't like to stay in hotels. Finally on the 28th, we arrived in DeForest, Wisconsin, where my Aunt Bev and Uncle Dave opened their home to us. It had been over three weeks since my kids had been in a house, and boy, they were ready. Bev and Dave have grand kids, so their house has toys. Julia and Grace were THRILLED. At bedtime that night, we gave Julia a choice: sleep in a bed or in second cousin Mason's crib (note that she's been out of a crib for 9 months). No contest. She wanted the crib. I think she probably would have stayed at Bev and Dave's indefinitely, but we had a few more miles to go.
On June 29th, we boarded a ferry to take us from Milwaukee, Wisconsin to Muskegon, Michigan. Months earlier, when we were planning our trip, the girls were most excited about the ferry ride. At that time, they couldn't conceive of mountain ranges and wildlife out the window. Regardless of everything we had seen and done, the ferry was still a major highlight though. The girls couldn't wait for the ferry to arrive (and had an even harder time waiting to board).
We finally boarded a little after lunch and three hours later we made land, with Grandma and Grandpa waving from the shore.
While we still had three weeks left of our vacation (divided between Michigan and Indiana), the western part of our trip was done, and likewise, this travelogue is concluded. I'll upload the pictures from visits with the grandparents at another time. My apologies for taking such a long time to finish this series. Who would have thought that we would be so busy when we returned? Of course, we were busy. School started for everyone except me with all associated responsibilities. Whole weeks flashed by in an instant, it seems, and I marvel that we had such a long spell this summer of uninterrupted time off.
I'm happy and relieved that this log is finished. I hope that years from now the girls can look back and see the trip anew. I'll remember our summer as a magical time. I can always transport myself back to a moment in the Tetons when I asked Grace, "What do you want to do next summer? And she answered, "This. Can we do this again? Because this has been the best summer of my life." Mine too.
As always, here are the slideshows.
Thanks for reading (and thanks Mom for prodding me to finish the series).
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