Three Girls Move West

Blogger has been acting weird for weeks, so we're over here now: http://threegirlsmovewest.wordpress.com/ See you there!

2011-01-29T18:06:00.000-08:00

No More Tinsel Teeth

2011-01-26T12:43:00.000-08:00

I took Evie to the orthodontist this morning to get her braces off. After a year of trying to floss with braces, I wasn't sure who was more excited about the appointment. Then Evie came out, brace-free, with a bag of Bubble Gum, caramels, Laffy Taffy and Mars Bars and a huge white smile... and I realized she wasn't even thinking about the whole flossing issue. She still might need braces again when she's a teenager, but for now, we're just celebrating her beautiful smile.

New Year, Less Stuff

2011-01-15T18:31:00.001-08:00

My new year began with a burning bowl ceremony in a yoga studio in Weaverville, North Carolina. (Well, technically I guess 2011 began on a dance floor in Asheville at 12:01 am, but that doesn't have quite the same ring to it). The instructor handed us each a sheet of paper and asked us what we’d like to release in 2011. Our answers were burned together in a bowl and sent out to the universe. And so, as the universe already knows, this year I am releasing stuff.

By stuff, I mean junk, crap, clutter, what I see when I walk into the girls' room and look at the floor and what is surrounding my computer on my desk right now. In Kingston's book Clear Your Clutter With Feng Shui, she explains that "any kind of clutter creates an obstacle to the smooth flow of energy around a space. This in turn creates stuckness and/or confusion in the lives of the occupants". With three growing girls, we have a lot of energy around our space. Keeping it flowing smoothly seems like a good idea to me.

To add to my desire to get rid of clutter, we are moving into a not-so-big house in May (fortunately just down the street this time). So now, along with seeing every pile of clutter on the floor as blocking our energy, I also am starting to see it as something I'm going to have to physically move. It's amazing how quickly that detaches you from objects.

I have to say, as far as resolutions go, I am off to a good start this year. Last week, I took three garbage bags full of clothing to Goodwill and I already have two more in the car. Today we sold a television and two car seats on Craig’s List. And is energy flowing smoothly around the house? It is! I can actually walk into the girls' room and feel peaceful.

But I recognize that this is January. It's Resolution Month. The month when optimistic exercisers burn calories on every machine at the gym and packs full of cigarettes are tossed hopefully into the trash. The challenge is to keep this up all year and beyond. I am determined to do it. I have visions of more trips to Goodwill, more books checked out and then returned to the library, fewer purchases of things we don't actually need. And I am finally going to sort through that junk room in the basement.

The only thing that has me a little worried is that as I was writing this, I started to think that I might have written about having too much stuff at some point before. Sure enough, two and a half years ago I made this same announcement. And two and a half years and two moves later, we definitely do have less stuff than we did then, but it's starting to creep up on us again and I can't say that I've held firm in my less stuff commitment.

But then again, I didn't release my intention into the universe in a burning bowl ceremony either. And so, 2011, with the universe behind me, I now pronounce you the year of less stuff.

And if any of you are find yourself in Weaverville, North Carolina anytime soon, I know of a great little yoga studio.

How to Teach Your Three-Year-Old to Ski

2011-01-01T17:27:00.000-08:00

You will need:

- Two skis

- Two ski boots

- One helmet

- One princess helmet cover. This is not actually necessary for teaching skiing, but will make your daughter feel like a rock star when people she doesn’t know ask to take her picture. Also, once she learns to ski, it’ll be easier to find her in the crowd. If your child isn't into wearing a princess helmet cover, there are lots of different options. (click here) If you really want to stand out in the crowd, you might want to check out the matching family raccoon helmets they show on there...especially if you want your child to learn to ski away from you really quickly.

-One harness

- One Edgie-Wedgie

- 300 chocolate chips and gummy bears

On the first day of skiing, you might think that holding your child between your legs while you ski down the mountain seems like a good idea. Unless you want to support your local chiropractor, investing in a harness is a smart move. It’s a great way to allow your child to balance on her own without breaking your own back. Once she gets the hang of this, you can just enjoy that your child can get down the mountain and that she enjoys the feeling of skiing. And you can enjoy some new ski-related conversations, like how the “magic carpet” at the ski area differs from the magic carpet that Jasmine rides on in Aladdin.

Of course, when you take the harness off your child, you’ll realize that while she may have learned to ski, she didn’t actually learn to stop. Which is kind of important. Here’s where the Edgie-Wedgie comes in handy. The next step is to take your child off the harness and attach the Edgie-Wedgie to her skis. If you consider yourself the type of parent who is above bribing her child, you might just attempt skiing backwards in front of your child yelling “Make a pizza! Pizza! Pizza!” She’ll look at you like you’re crazy, with her skis in perfect parallel lines, before crash-stopping into you and telling you she wants to get some lunch. And pizza will sound kind of good to you too.

At this point, you might as well just give in and accept that bribery can be really effective at times. Then you can fill your pockets with gummy bears and chocolate chips and attempt the backwards skiing pizza drill again, handing out a piece of candy every time she makes a snowplow. And this time? It works. Your child may gain her weight in gummy bears before she learns to ski, but there’s nothing quite like watching her go down the mountain with a huge smile on her face, yelling “I’m skiing!” Of course, it’s not a perfect system. On the last run of the day yesterday, I told Noni to “make a pizza” and she asked, “Why? You’re out of chocolate chips.”

Stickers

2010-12-11T06:40:00.000-08:00

In the winter months, when it's too cold for the park or the soccer field, it's always nice to find a non-messy craft that will occupy the girls. The fort that they recently made out of blankets, string, stuffed animals, pipe cleaners and paper boxes does not fall into this category. Melissa and Doug Sticker collection sheets do.

Over Thanksgiving, the girls' friends Cam and Drew introduced them to the sticker sheets and since then they've been hooked. Noni particularly likes the fashion collection and Evie and Lucy love the make-a-face book. The sticker books have become our go-to birthday present these days. If you're looking for a holiday present that will keep your little one entertained for hours, I strongly recommend them. They are available at Childish Things in Boulder or online at amazon.com.

Lucy making sticker art

Our fridge, courtesy of Noni

Math Muffins

2010-11-30T08:50:00.000-08:00

For the past few weeks, I have been helping teach Evie's math league. It's not a natural fit for me. I either lack a natural propensity for math or else lack enough of an interest to be competent in it. My daughter, however, fills notebooks with calculations in her free time and I want to support this interest.

After I offered to volunteer, I immediately felt apprehensive about my ability to actually teach the class. So I decided that I would bake some muffins to bring to her math league. That way, even if I didn't do a great job, everyone would still find me to be a respectable volunteer.

The kids loved the muffins and the first day was a success. And it turns out that despite getting D in Calculus in college, I am quite capable of teaching fourth grade math. However, I wasn't capable of calculating that after I brought muffins once, the kids would come to expect them each time. And so Tuesdays have become baking days as Noni and I experiment with making pumpkin and banana and chocolate chip muffins. Today, I made apple strudel muffins and they came out so well that I wanted to share. Below is the recipe, slightly modified from a recipe I found on allrecipes.com. They don't actually make you better at math, but they do taste good. Enjoy!

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups whole wheat flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup butter
2 cups white sugar
4 eggs
2-1/2 teaspoons vanilla
3 cups grated apples
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons butter

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Grease two 12 cup muffin pans.
In a medium bowl, mix flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt.
In a large bowl, beat together butter, sugar and eggs until smooth. Mix in vanilla. Stir in apples, and gradually blend in the flour mixture. Spoon the mixture into the prepared muffin pan.
In a small bowl, mix brown sugar, flour and cinnamon. Cut in butter until mixture is like coarse crumbs. Sprinkle over tops of mixture in muffin pan.
Bake 20 minutes in the preheated oven, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean. Allow to sit 5 minutes before removing muffins from pan. Cool on a wire rack.

Introducing Francie's Fortune!

2010-11-29T06:16:00.000-08:00

I just thought I'd take a moment to let you all know that my new book is now available at both Blue Mustang Press and Amazon.com! You can get up-to-date information on my book on the Francie's Fortune Facebook fan page (try saying that five times fast...) or the website http://www.franciesfortune.com/. Thank you so much for reading my blog. I hope you enjoy my book as well!

The Next Stage

2010-11-28T10:07:00.001-08:00

This morning I filled three garbage bags with clothing for Goodwill. The clothes range from size "newborn" to 2T and each item brought back a flood of memories. Glover Park t-shirts, Frederick soccer uniforms, much loved leotards and princess t-shirts... I pulled out the ones that felt particularly significant, like the pink and black skirt that Evie wore daily for nearly a year, but the rest are off to be released into the world. For the first time, I am not saving the smaller sizes to be passed down to a little sister. I felt a stir of emotions as I filled up the bags, but they weren't the emotions I was expecting.

For the past nine years, I have devoted my life to raising three daughters. I also went to grad school and wrote two books. But, if you took snapshots of me moment to moment over the past nine years, you would see me wiping a nose here, pushing a swing there, changing a diaper here, and giving a hug there. I have been very busy with all the very busy things that one does when raising toddlers. It's not that, as a mother, I'm not doing any of those things any more just because the girls are older. It's just that recently I find myself more often planning activities for Lucy's Brownie troop or teaching Evie's math league or listening to Lucy read or helping Evie think up arguments for a debate or driving to soccer or ballet or piano or drama or science seekers or gymnastics... I'm still busy raising them, but it's different.

This difference struck me a few weeks ago when I spend the weekend in Boston with five friends from college and three babies. I watched them nursing and snuggling and calming their babies. I remember that stage so well. There were nights when Evie was up screaming for three hours and I found myself in tears thinking this stage will never ever end. And then there was her first smile and her first laugh and I found myself praying that this stage will never ever end.

But it did. It does. That's the way life works of course. Now my first baby is learning about elastic potential energy, my second baby can read and ride a bike and my third baby goes to preschool and didn't even need to sit on my lap during Tangled. This is the though that, while folding tiny t-shirts, I expected to bring me to tears.

Here's the thing though. I love this stage. I love that we can all go skiing or hike up Sanitas together. I love that I spent the morning in a debate with Evie and Lucy over whether it's better to be a werewolf, vampire or ghost (in case you're wondering, I'm going with werewolf) and that we'll spend the afternoon at the Nutcracker. Do I miss the snuggly, sweet stage of raising babies? Of course. But while I look older nine years later, I'm also realizing that I'm suddenly feeling younger than I've felt in a long while. I'm getting more sleep and more exercise and I'm finding more time to pursue interests that have gotten dusty over the past nine years.

Looking at those bags, I can't help but feel nostalgic at all the memories that go along with the stained and worn clothing in them. But part of me feels that, by pulling those clothes out of closets and the basement and releasing them into the world, we have made a little more room for ourselves at this stage of our lives. And to tell you the truth, that feels like a wonderful thing.

King Tut Has Lice Too

2010-11-14T08:12:00.001-08:00

Stitches and lice, the two childhood rites of passage I always hoped my kids would skip. Well, I can cross one off the list. In case you've never had the joy of picking crawling bugs out of your child's hair, I will let you share in my experience.

It starts like this. You're at the museum with your friend and your kids. The girls are trying on Egyptian hats. You turn to your friend and say, "Well, when they get lice, we'll know exactly where they got them." And you laugh. Ha ha ha.

That night, at dinner with your family and your husband's business partners, your daughter starts itching her hair.

"Mom, my hair itches."

"No it doesn't."

"Yes, really, it itches."

"No. It doesn't."

"Seriously."

"Your head really itches?"

"Yes."

"For real?"

"Yes."

Sighing, you take her to the bathroom. You part her hair and there it is--a little louse crawling around your daughter's hair, about to wreck havoc on your life. You take a deep breath. You notice a single fruit fly, sitting on the bathroom mirror. You think about fruit flies and lice and temporarily consider yourself a failure as a mother. But you don't really have time for contemplation. You yell to your husband in the other room, "You need to go to the drugstore. Now!"

When you emerge from the bathroom to tell him and his business partners what happened, you all start scratching your heads. This is what happens when you even think about lice, you start itching.

You spend the evening rubbing toxic shampoo into your daughter's scalp. The lice could care less. They crawl around unfazed, coated in lice shampoo. You imagine their conversation. "Mmm, I love this tasty shampoo." "Oh yes, this brand is my favorite. Even better than scalp." You spend the next hour picking the lice out of her hair because clearly the shampoo is not doing anything. The rest of the evening is spent washing sheets in hot water.

The next morning you remember that your niece had lice and you call your sister hoping for reassurance. She tells you that sucks, it really really sucks. Not the reassurance you were looking for, but it's always good to know the truth. You tell her that your daughter got lice at the museum yesterday and you had picked nine out of her hair. She tells you that your daughter didn't get lice at the museum, she gave lice at the museum. She couldn't have had nine already unless that hat was teaming with lice. You feel momentary guilt thinking of all the dozens of kids who tried on the Egyptian hats after your daughter that day. Then, following your sister's advice, you buy an electric comb.

When you are done electrocuting lice, you call the school to tell them that your daughter won't be coming in that day. They tell you that at least four other kids are out that day too, all with lice. This isn't comforting. The last thing you need is to get rid of lice and then get them back again.

When you hang up the phone, you ask your daughter if she'd consider shaving off all of her hair. She isn't amused. You head back to the bathroom for another comb-through, and suddenly have a deep understanding of the expression "go over it with a fine-toothed comb."

Four days, twelve comb-throughs, and countless loads of laundry later, you breathe a small sigh of relief because your daughter's head is no longer itchy and so far your other daughters' hair remains bug-free. You are hopeful that you can put this whole experience behind you.

And that, my friends, is the story of lice. If it sounds like good times, then by all means go about your usual business. Maybe even take your kids for some hat-trying-on at the Denver Art Museum. But, if you'd rather keep your experience with lice limited to reading about it on a blog, I strongly suggest going through your kids' hair with a fine-toothed comb just to check, especially if you live in Boulder. Checking obviously won't prevent them from getting lice, but it's always good to catch it early. Also? Ponytails and buns are always good looks.

King Tut Has a Big Butt

2010-11-11T15:54:00.000-08:00

The girls had the day off of school today so my friend Tina and I decided to take them and her daughters into Denver for some art and culture. As soon as I told the girls that we were going to the Denver Museum of Art to see a King Tut exhibit, Lucy made up a song about it. Driving to the museum listening to "We're going to see King Tut and he has a big butt!", I began to have my doubts about our plans. Yet it turns out that spending a day at the DAM with the girls was a great way to spend the day.

I've learned a couple things in my years of dragging the girls to museums. Kids, like adults, enjoy art more when they understand it in context. Tina dropped off a bunch of books about Egypt from the library for us before our museum trip. Mummies & Pyramids, with a whole chapter on King Tut, proved the most valuable. The girls knew about tomb raiders and mummies and pharaohs before we set foot in the museum. The books plus the 3D movie we watched when we arrived (which, incidentally, started with a jackal jumping out at us from the screen. Noni spent the rest of the movie on my lap without her 3D glasses) gave the exhibit more meaning.

I also always bring notebooks for the girls now when we go to museums. Lydia and Lucy might still be in the King Tut exhibit drawing sarcophagi if their younger sisters hadn't grown impatient. Giving them something to physically do always helps keep their attention.

I think we all left the museum better informed about Egyptian history. And the "King Tut has a big butt" song is finally out of our heads. Now we are all singing this instead: click here

Francie's Fortune

2010-11-04T15:38:00.000-07:00

A year and four days ago today, I embarked in the crazy adventure of Nanowrimo, or the challenge to write a novel in a month. I didn't do it. But I got enough of a start that I couldn't stop writing. Through that process, Francie's Fortune was born.

I'm happy to announce that Blue Mustang Press will be publishing Francie's Fortune, which will be available on amazon.com and hopefully at a bookstore near you by the end of the month. The website for the book is currently in development, but check out the Francie's Fortune fan page on Facebook to get updates about the book.

Thank you to everyone for your support of my writing on this blog. I hope you'll check out Francie's Fortune as well!

Here's a sneak peak from the back cover:

Ten-year-old Francie is looking forward to spending the summer at home in Los Angeles as she always does, hanging out at the ice cream shop and at her best friend’s pool. When her mother drops the news that Francie will instead be spending the summer with her estranged grandmother in a remote mountain town in Colorado, Francie is crushed. Even worse, once she arrives, she begins to suspect that her grandmother is actually a witch. And why is a mountain lion following her? Will Francie survive the summer?

Multiplication Music

2010-11-02T16:56:00.000-07:00

As I write, the girls are blaring music from their room. It's not the usual Lady Gaga or Glee CD. Instead, they are newly obsessed with a CD that Lucy brought home from school: Multiplication Sensation. It has really, um, catchy lyrics like, "Five times ten is fifty..." and yet at dinner tonight Lu was singing, "Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thiiiiirty." If I'm going to have numbers in my music, I prefer Feist, but I highly recommend Multiplication Sensation for kids. It will drive you crazy, but so does most kid music and at least your kids will learn some math in the process! Check it out online here: http://www.kidcleveronline.com/home.html

The Unlikely Princess

2010-11-01T06:38:00.000-07:00

As you might know if you've been reading this blog, or if you've ever spent 30 seconds with Noni, she's kind of into princesses. "Kind of" as in she sleeps with a stuffed Snow White on her bed, obsessively reads the Disney Princess Encyclopedia, dressed in nothing but princess dresses for almost a year, and usually leaves the house with at least two Polly Pocket-sized princesses in her pocket or purse. So when Halloween came around and she asked my dad what he was going to be for Halloween, he decided he had the perfect answer for his three-year-old granddaughter: "A princess."

And so, my dad dressed as Cinderella for Halloween. And Noni was terrified. Not only would she not go near him, but when we stopped at the first house to trick-or-treat, she turned to my dad and said, "You stay back!" We were cracking up. However, but the end of the night she had totally warmed up to the idea. Before she went to bed, she told my dad, "Next year I want you to be Snow White."

My dad as Cinderella. Noni, as a "princess cat", looking skeptical.

Halloween Dinner: Mummy Dogs

2010-10-31T18:42:00.000-07:00

Tonight I needed to make a quick dinner so that the girls could be out the door with face paint on to meet their friends by 6 o'clock. I went to allrecipes.com (which seems to be getting a lot of air time on my blog lately. As I said, something about the fall and cooking. Hmmm... That could actually explain the struggle to get into my jeans today...) and looked up Halloween food and found the perfect recipe. (Click here for the full recipe.) Mummy dogs could not have been easier to make and the girls loved them!

It's always good to serve organic hot dogs on Halloween, before you allow your kids to eat 5 lbs of high fructose corn syrup and red #40...

Evie, the green crayon, helped make the mummy dogs.

Aren't they cute?

I have to admit, this guy was my favorite. Lucy looked at this picture and said, "I feel so sad! He's in my belly now!'

Happy Halloween!

Noni, Top Chef

2010-10-23T07:48:00.000-07:00

Lately I've had a helper in the kitchen. Whether she's stirring a pot of red lentil soup or flattening some pizza dough, Noni has taken a sudden interest in cooking. If I'm making a recipe that is too complicated for a three-year-old helper (she still has some work to do on cracking eggs), we pull her plastic kitchen set into the hall and she keeps me company by coming up with her own make-believe creations while I cook.

I give Monica Wellington the credit for Noni's newfound interest. Wellington is the author of a series of books about young entrepreneurs and many of them are in the business of making and selling food. Whether we're reading about Suzette selling crepes or Annie selling apples or Sally selling pizzas, Noni loves her stories.

You can check out the recipes from her books on her website (click here). Noni's favorite is the pizza recipe, which we altered only slightly by using 1/2 whole wheat flour and adding olive oil.

If you have a little chef in your own kitchen, I suggest you check out Wellington's books.

Chef Noni in her apron

Fat Squirrels

2010-10-20T12:24:00.000-07:00

Today Noni and I came home to three squirrels on the front porch eating the pumpkins. It might be time to invest in a fake Jack'o'lantern:

Autumn Baking & Cooking

2010-10-16T12:02:00.001-07:00

I love this time of year. Boulder doesn't quite offer the fall splendor of the Mid-Atlantic or New England, but we still have some changing color and the weather lately--sunny, dry, high sixties--has been perfect. This morning, Toby and I biked up past Bald Mountain to see the damage done by the fires and were amazed at the size of the charred valley. Our ride up, however, provided views of yellow and orange trees with a blue sky and snow-capped mountains as a backdrop. It was a perfect way to start a fall day.

During the summer, I am usually uninspired to cook. I'll throw something on the grill and make a side salad and then repeat the following evening. But the cooler weather has motivated me to try some new recipes and I thought I'd share some that we've been enjoying lately here (courtesy of allrecipes.com). Enjoy!

Easy & Delicious Pumpkin Soup

6 cups chicken stock
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
3 1/2 cups cubed fresh pumpkin
*2 small potatoes (I used Yukon Gold)
1 teaspoon fresh parsley
1 cup chopped onion
1/2 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
5 whole black peppercorns

Directions

Cut pumpkin into 1/2-inch cubes.
Heat stock, salt, pumpkin, potatoes, onion, thyme, garlic, and peppercorns. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to low, and simmer for 30 minutes uncovered.
Puree the soup in small batches (1 cup at a time) using a food processor or blender.
Return to pan and bring to a boil again. Reduce heat to low and simmer for another 30 minutes, uncovered. Stir in heavy cream. Pour into soup bowls and garnish with fresh parsley.

* not in the original recipe, but I felt they made the soup a better consistency (thicker).

Chocolate Chip Banana Muffins

Ingredients

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour (I used 1 cup of whole wheat flour and 3/4 cup all-purpose)
3/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup plain yogurt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup mashed ripe bananas
3/4 cup semisweet chocolate chips

Directions

In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. In another bowl, combine the egg, oil, yogurt and vanilla. Stir into dry ingredients just until moistened. Fold in bananas and chocolate chips. Fill greased or paper-lined muffin cups two-thirds full. Bake at 350 degrees F for 22-25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Cool for 5 minutes before removing from pans to wire racks.

Zucchini Chocolate-chip Muffins

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (I used whole wheat flour)
3/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg, lightly beaten
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup milk
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup shredded zucchini
1/4 cup miniature semisweet chocolate chips
1/4 cup chopped walnuts

Directions

In a bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking soda, cinnamon and salt. Combine the egg, oil, milk, lemon juice and vanilla; mix well. Stir into dry ingredients just until moistened. Fold in zucchini, chocolate chips and walnuts. Fill greased or paper-lined muffin cups two-thirds full. Bake at 350 degrees F for 20-25 minutes or until muffins test done.

Happy fall!

Hanging Out in South Carolina

2010-10-13T07:49:00.000-07:00

To Hang out: verb, informal: to spend time in a certain location or with certain people; to spend time doing nothing in particular

I spent most of my college years hanging out with my friends. There were the occasional breaks to study or to endure the freezing cold sprint from the dorm to the gym for a game of racquetball or to go to a party or bar, but we spent most of our time in our dorm room just talking, and maybe drinking a beer or eating from the giant bowl of M&Ms on our living room table (no wonder we all a little pudgy).

When you're a parent, spending time "doing nothing in particular" doesn't seem to happen so much anymore. When you're at home, there are dishes to be washed and floors to be swept and toys to be put away. And if you decide to spend a few hours ignoring all that and hanging out on the couch, you do it knowing that destruction is occurring as you sit -- you're likely to find that as you relaxed, your daughters spilled a can of paint on the floor or made a giant fort out of cardboard and cushions in the basement.

This is why it is of utmost importance to get away every once in a while. Not just for a date night, but for a real full weekend break. And last weekend, we did. My mom watched the girls (thank you!!) and Toby and I headed to South Carolina for our friend Jeremy's wedding, where we spent the weekend hanging out on the beach in 75 degree sunny weather. I have so many wonderful memories from the weekend -- sitting on the front porch while Toby and Parzych played guitar, lounging on the beach with friends, catching up with friends I haven't seen in years, walking under the stars along the beach at night and spotting glow-in-the-dark ghost crabs, kayaking through the marshes with Toby. The beauty of the weekend was both spending time with friends I haven't seen in far too long and just doing whatever we felt like doing whenever we felt like doing it.

It's not easy to get away for the weekend, but last weekend we all talked about how we shouldn't wait for another wedding to all get together. I feel fortunate this fall -- we've had two wedding weekends already and I am meeting up with college friends again in Boston in November. But normally my life doesn't include so many weekends away and this past weekend was a good reminder that it is worth the effort to make sure it happens more often. Because, while we were probably excessive in our lounging around in college, it turns out that spending a weekend just hanging out with your friends is really good for your soul.

2010 Boulder 1/2 Marathon: A Review

2010-10-03T14:22:00.000-07:00

Today, after a two week delay due to the fires, I finally ran the Boulder half marathon. It was a beautiful morning, sunny and cool. The course couldn't have been better--thirteen point two miles on dirt roads that wind through horse ranches and cow pastures, ending and starting at the reservoir, with a view of the mountains the whole way.

Unfortunately, I wasn't feeling so great. I woke up with, um, digestive issues and struggled with stomach cramps during the whole run. It was one of those races where you debate just giving up and walking with every step. Not so fun. I probably would have given up and walked had it not been for my family coming to watch. When I reached the six mile point, they all cheered me on. I ran the next two miles with the thought of Lucy in my mind -- waving her spider-monkey arms, yelling "Go Mama!" and giving me a big hug when I ran past her. When I crossed them again at mile eight, she ran out to give me a huge smile and hand me a Gatorade. Then Toby joined me for the rest of the run. You might think joining in for the last five miles of a thirteen mile race isn't such a huge deal, but I couldn't help but appreciate his effort. I wasn't sure he'd follow through, as he spent the prior evening attending the CU game and then celebrating their victory. But he made it (albeit a little hungover) and, if he hadn't joined me, I am not sure I would've run the whole thing.

With a time that was nine minutes slower than the last half marathon I did, it wasn't exactly the best race I've ever run, but I am still glad I did it. I am thankful for all of the beautiful mountain trail training runs leading up to it (and also grateful that the coyote I kept seeing on my morning runs was, in fact, a coyote and not a mountain lion as I imagined every time). Also, despite my less than stellar day on the roads, it is a beautiful, well-organized run. Hopefully my family is up for cheering me on again, as I'll probably torture myself with it again next year!

Evie's Wonders

2010-09-27T17:58:00.000-07:00

Evie's homework assignment for the night was to write down fifteen things that she wonders about. I love that her teacher gives her such creative assignments and celebrates his students' imagination in that way. Here's what she came up with:

I wonder...

what it would be like to live on Mars.

if I'll have kids.

if people will remember the Beatles in 2020.

how the dinosaurs died.

if I'll remember my friends now when I'm older.

what I'll look like when I'm thirty.

if I'll ever move again.

if scientists will discover new animals.

if there's a way to walk off the earth.

if there will be new transportation invented.

who I'll have for my 5th grade teacher.

if the sun will run out of light.

what it would be like to travel to Australia.

if someone will find a food with all the vitamins in it.

if we're really just on a speck and someone's holding us and saying, "there's life on this speck!"

I don't think adults don't spend enough time wondering. What do you wonder about?

Mompreneurs

2010-09-27T17:45:00.000-07:00

It's been a while now since I worked outside the house. In that time, it's funny how often I've formed friendships with other moms who are home full-time with their kids without ever thinking to ask they did before they had kids. I've had friends who for years had no idea that I was ever a teacher. And I was shocked when, after knowing a friend for months, I found out that she was going back to work as a doctor. I had no clue she was ever a doctor.

Recently, several of my friends have jumped back into work by starting their own businesses. I love seeing moms come up with creative solutions as they re-enter the work world and I love discovering that my friends have talents that I never knew they had. My friend Keri-Ann recently decided to put her love of baking to the test and sold out her pies at the farmer's market. And just today, I learned that my friend Corey designs reusable bags and is starting a crafting blog.

In honor of all of these creative friends, I thought I'd share a couple of their websites:

Corey's reusable bag company (formerly thegoodgiftbag.com, the new site is in development): http://goodbaggage.com/

Hilary's name dots: http://www.kidecals.com/

And I'll celebrate creative family as well:

My mom's palettes: http://possumproducts.com/

Enjoy!

Letters from Lucy

2010-09-27T11:23:00.001-07:00

Remember there is no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end. - Scot Adams

This past week was a rough one. As I've written before, our family is prone to stomach viruses, which is all sorts of awesome. And last week was an especially brutal one. It started on Sunday night, when Noni spent the whole night throwing up. Then Lucy and Toby got it. (Snapshot of our family at midnight: Lucy throws up in the hallway. Toby gets up to throw up in the toilet and wipes out on Lucy's vomit.) Then Evie got it. For some reason they all managed to get sick at night, right after I had drifted off to sleep, so I spent three nights up all night and washing sheets and towels all day the next day. When I finally got sick on Sunday morning, I was actually just relieved because, unless our cat comes down with it, we have finally moved on from this nasty virus.

At any rate, about mid-week last week I sort of forgot that my life consisted of anything but washing vomity towels and comforting sick kids. When you're sleep deprived and stuck in the house all week, you start to lose perspective. (Note: I would be horrible as the mom in Room.) But just when I was feeling overwhelmed with fatigue and laundry burn-out, Lucy started leaving notes around the house for me. She left a note for me to "Loc on the fireplas", where she left me a drawing of a cardinal, my favorite bird. Then I found a note on the kitchen counter wishing me a "good morning!!!" She left goodnight notes in my bed and drawings on my desk.

Lucy began to read and write last year, but this year she's suddenly at the point where both are less of a struggle and starting to be fun. As a result, she's taken up more of an interest in doing both at home. Her timing couldn't be better. Her notes to me got me through the week. They also reminded me that being up for a week with sick kids is a small price to pay for all of the joy that they bring to my life.

Good night my mom, I love you.

(For some reason I can't get my photos to fully display on my blog - the right side always gets cropped off. Working on that!)

Nine

2010-09-22T10:42:00.000-07:00

This weekend, three of Evie's fourth-grade girl friends came over for a sleepover party to celebrate Evie's ninth birthday. As Toby wrote, it was heartwarming after so many moves to see Evie enjoying close friends. As I watched Evie and her friends take over the house with their energy and laughter and excitement, I couldn't help but think how nine and ten are such wonderful ages. They switch back and forth seamlessly from tweeny ("Oh my God, did you Selena Gomez's outfit on Wizard's of Waverly Place?" "I know! It was soooooo cute!" "Totally. She has the best clothes.") to child-like ("Hey, do you guys want to climb the tree in our front yard?" "Yes! And let's pretend we're bears." "Okay, I'm the mom bear! You can be the sister bear...") They care deeply for their friends, but they haven't yet hit the stage of cutting down other girls to attempt to boost their own self-esteem (Can we skip that stage?). I also love that Evie is at an age where we can have more adult conversations. Last night, she and Toby discussed the Revolutionary War at dinner. On the way to school this morning, she and I talked about what we like about our favorite books.

Two weeks ago, the fires brought out all of our photo albums and, now that they're out, we've been looking them over. There's Evie with short curly hair heading off to preschool and Evie, gap-toothed, playing the piano. We couldn't believe how young she looked when Noni was born or when we left Frederick. All of these photos do make me nostalgic, but when I think about what a great stage she's in now, it makes watching her grow up a little easier.

Room Reviewed

2010-09-19T08:20:00.001-07:00

I would write an eloquent review about how much I loved the book Room by Emma Donoghue, except I'm too tired from staying up the last two nights reading it. I can't remember the last time I couldn't put a book down like this. (Okay, fine, it was last fall and it was about vampires and werewolves and, yes, I did run to Target at 10 pm to buy Eclipse. Go team Jacob.) The thing about Room is that it's a bumping-into-walls-while-reading, answering-everything-your-kids-ask-with-mmmhmmm-for-two-days type of book, but it's also incredible literature. I rarely buy hardcover books, but I bought Room because Newsweek gave it such a good review that I couldn't resist.

The "room" from the title is an 11 by 11 foot shed where 5-year-old Jack and his mom live. To Jack, it's home, but, when the book starts, his mother has been imprisoned there for eleven years by her kidnapper. Donoghue perfectly captures a 5-year-old's voice with Jack's narration and your heart will go out to his mother, bravely trying to raise a child and calmly answer his never-ending questions, even in their extraordinarily challenging circumstances.

I strongly recommend reading Room. Just don't start it at night if you have to get up early the next day.

Possessions

2010-09-09T18:13:00.000-07:00

My friend Jenny posed the following question on our Frederick listserve the other day: Which of your possessions truly bring you joy? It was a hypothetical question, meant to inspire discussion, but suddenly that question has become very important to me.

The City of Boulder has issued a warning that residents in my neighborhood should "prepare for possible evacuations." This afternoon, I contacted my friend Jen, who lives in Castle Rock, so we would have a place to stay should we need to flee; dug up all of our birth certificates and passports; moved the propane tanks to the east side of the yard; pulled out the cat carrier and placed it by the door; packed an overnight bag for me and the girls; and then filled the trunk of the minivan with photo albums and kicked myself for not taking Mike up on the offer to scan all of my old photos.

I'd like to say I looked around and found that I really don't need anything else and, truthfully, as long as we are all safe, that is true. But a friend told me she feels that it's "scary to pack up all of your memories in a few bags." And that's what it is about stuff. It's not the actual things that I'm attached to, but the memories that go along with most of them. There's the guitar that I bought for Toby and the look on his face when I surprised him at Christmas. He usually doesn't like getting gifts but that one brought him so much joy. There's the painting that mom made of our porch at the house in Vermont. I'll never go to that house again and I love the memories that are attached to that view. There's the piano, my great-grandmother's, and all of my books, the watercolors my grandmother collected on a round-the-world tour, the girls' artwork, the pink skirt that all three of them loved when they were two, and the dining room table that my grandfather made. The list goes on and on.

Ultimately, I think our neighborhood will be safe. We may have to evacuate if the winds continue to blow in our direction, but the fire would have to burn through three city blocks to get to our house. However, even having to contemplate this issue has brought me nearly to tears. My heart goes out to everyone who has lost their home, whether in the Four Mile Canyon Fire or in any other disaster. And a huge THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all of the fire fighters up there right now.

Sedona Revisited

2010-09-07T15:26:00.001-07:00

Two years ago, Toby and I enjoyed five days of R&R in Sedona without the girls. Well, four days of R&R and one amazing and grueling day up and down the Grand Canyon, but anyway, it was a memorable trip. Our lives were chaotic at the time--after our trip, we flew back east to pick up the girls and then turned right around and moved to Los Angeles. We spent much of our time in Sedona that year discussing our future.

Two years later, Toby and I finally headed out for another kid-free vacation. Again, we traveled to Sedona. This time, it was to celebrate Mike and Diane's wedding. (Mike later wrote on Facebook that it was "hands down best weekend of my life." I love happy beginnings!) The incredible red rock Sedona views looked the same, but I couldn't help but note the differences in our lives since our last trip. How funny it is that we thought we had a clue about our future then. We didn't imagine that two years later we would be living in Boulder for the second year in a row and or that Toby would have started a new business. And of course on this trip, we never imagined that we'd come home to find the mountains behind us on fire.

I think it's important to have visions for the future, but this trip was a good reminder that, as much as you can plan in life, the future is always a mystery.

Wanted: A Boring Week in Boulder

2010-09-07T12:04:00.000-07:00

The mountains behind us are burning. Over 7,000 acres of forest are gone already. From our yard this morning, the sky was a soot-gray and white ashes kept falling like snow onto our lawn and our hair.

We've experienced mountains burning before. In Studio City two years ago, wildfires ravaged the Angeles National Forest and the Santa Monica Mountains. We breathed in the smoky air and listened to sad news reports of people losing their homes. But we watched the fires from across the valley or on our drives to the ocean and never felt threatened in our home. We didn't personally know anyone who was impacted by the fires, unless you count suffering from slight coughs and watery eyes.

In Boulder, we know several families who have been evacuated from their homes. One family, returning from a camping trip over the weekend, wasn't even able to go back into their home to retrieve family photographs and other important possessions. We have a friend who is fighting the fires. We also know those mountains well--picnics on Bald mountain, BBQs at our friends' homes, hikes and camping trips in the woods. The damage and the danger feels closer this time.

We had a different kind of danger in our neighborhood last week. A mother bear and cub clung to a tree one block from our home while the Department of Wildlife aimed their guns to shoot traquilizers at them. They managed to sedate the mother and, upon realizing that her tongue and bottom jaw had recently been destroyed in an accident or fight, decided to euthanize her. Unfortunately, they killed the mother before they caught the cub, who escaped when they tried to tranquilize him. Noni and I watched from the basement windows as three DOW employees ran across our yard, one of them carrying a huge black gun, searching for the cub. He is still missing. I doubt there's anyone in our neighborhood whose heart didn't break just a little bit last week thinking of the starving and distraught orphaned cub. Now, unfortunately, he is probably in good company as the wildfire takes its toll.

I have this thought that the city of Boulder is due for a really boring week next week. One of those run-of-the-mill weeks where nothing out of the ordinary happens. Where you walk the kids to school and smile at the blue sky and breathe in the clean air without thinking about bears or fires or destruction.

As I write, the wind has shifted and the sky immediately above us is blue again (well, bluish at least). I can hear the sound of tankers overhead and am hopeful that they can stop the fire before more damage is done. My prayers are with my friends and the firefighters in the mountains. Please join me in sending some positive thoughts their way.

Discovering the Already Discovered

2010-08-31T11:03:00.001-07:00

One of Evie and Lucy's favorite games is a game we call guess-that-animal. One of us thinks of an animal and then can only answer yes or no to questions about the animal. The girls have gotten fairly efficient at guessing--Is it bigger than a cat? Does it live in the ocean? Does it have fur?--and better at thinking of more exotic animals, although Evie, who carries around her Guide to Colorado Birds on every camping trip, is banned from thinking of any birds after stumping us with a double-crested cormorant and marbled godwit.

Noni usually sits and listens to us as we play, but today at lunch she asked me if I wanted to play guess-that-animal with her. Only she had a slightly different take on the game.

Noni: Okay, I'm going to pick an elephant and you guess what animal it is.

Me: ....

Noni: So guess!

Me: An elephant?

Noni: No! You can't guess for it like that!

Me: Okay, a monkey?

Noni (smiling): No

Me: A llama?

Noni: No

Me: An elephant!
Noni: That's right! You got it!

We then took turns "guessing" each other's animal, but always had to let the other person know up front which animal we were thinking about.

As we played, I had to resist the urge to tell Noni that her version didn't make sense. I realized that really it just didn't make sense to me. I thought back to a day at the reservoir a couple of weeks ago. Noni and her friend Ami decided to play hide-and-seek. Ami counted first and I helped Noni to hide under the towel. To her delight, Ami immediately found her. Then it was Noni's turn to count and Ami, of course, hid under the towel again. This went on for several turns until I asked the girls if they wouldn't like to mix it up a bit and hide somewhere different. Noni looked at me like I was crazy and probably would have rolled her eyes if she knew how. Then she and Ami looked at each other and both yelled "No!" at the same time. They were perfectly happy with their own version of the game.

At three, Noni is in discovery mode all day long. Just today, she has asked me why apples have skin, how to get up a really tall mountain, and why she has to wash her hands before lunch. The games she's playing, whether hide-and-seek or guess-that-animal, are new enough to her as it is without needing to add the element of surprise that older children enjoy. And so, without judgement, I'm off to play another game of guess-that-animal with Noni. By the way, I'm thinking of a bear.

Four Hours

2010-08-24T13:11:00.001-07:00

Noni goes to preschool for the first time tomorrow. It's a big day for her. It's a big day for me too because, for the first time in almost nine years, I will have two kid-free mornings a week. (There was a brief period, almost four years ago, where Lucy attended school two mornings a week and Noni wasn't born yet, but she was in utero so it didn't somehow quite count as kid-free.) Part of me cannot stand the idea of Noni heading off to school. She is growing up too fast. (And I, having turned thirty-six yesterday, seem to be growing up too fast too.) But part of me is excited about all that I can do with that chunk of newfound free time.

In my four kid-free hours tomorrow, I plan to go for a two hour training run, shower, match all the socks in the laundry basket full of unmatched socks, clean out the girls' closet, scrub all three bathrooms, paint a picture using my new birthday easel, organize our storage (junk) room, see the bottom of the laundry hamper, make photo albums from three years of photos that exist only on flickr, call friends I haven't talked to in too long, write a short story for my writing group, grocery shop, mop and dust the house, finish the edits on my novel, spray paint the rusting outdoor furniture, and weed the yard.

I suppose my list may be a little ambitious. But if I knock the first three items off the list, it will be the most productive morning I've had in a long time.

Old School

2010-08-15T19:20:00.000-07:00

On Friday, my friend Sarah called me and told me to check our mailbox. We were at the park and hadn't checked the mail before we left. She explained that her daughter Ada, one of Lucy's best friends, had received a postcard from Mrs. Y. welcoming her to her class this year and she wanted to know if Lucy had received the same card. Lucy couldn't wait to get home. Not only would a postcard mean she and Ada would be in class together, but her 8-year-old friend Sophia had Mrs. Y. in first grade and told Lucy that had to get her, that she is the best teacher and that Mrs. Y. would give her a hug everyday when she left school. When we got home, Lucy ran to the mailbox. She peeked inside and then let out a shout and waved the postcard victoriously over her head yelling, "I'm with Ada! I'm with Ada! And we got the huggy teacher!"

Judging by the crowd at the girls' school when they posted the classroom placement list later that day, classroom placement is important to a lot of families. But after having moved the girls to a different state and, of course, a different school, two years in a row, there was something especially beautiful to me in the joy the girls expressed about being in class with friends. Like Lucy, it turns out that Evie will have some of her best friends in her class. She also got the teacher she had been hoping to get all summer. She too responded by jumping up and down and screaming with delight.

Last week, Evie and a friend giggled and chatted in the back of the car as I drove them to go hiking. Then her friend told Evie that she is feeling sad because she just found out she'll be moving to a different school this year. Evie, instantly serious, turned to her and said, "I know exactly how you feel. That is really, really hard." As a parent, I will never forget Evie coming home from school in Los Angeles and telling me that no one noticed her at recess. And I'll never forget walking home last year, teary and worried at the thought of her experiencing that once again.

On Monday, the girls will enter their classrooms to be greeted by hugs from their friends. And I will walk home from dropping them off, thinking about Lucy waving her postcard in the air.

Lucy and Ada camping this summer

Glue-sticking Days

2010-08-09T12:53:00.000-07:00

As Toby headed out the door this morning, he turned to Evie and said, "Have a good day!" She responded, "That won't be hard to do." I love the power of now in an eight-year-old's brain. She was in the living room building a plastic cup and cardboard box tower with her sisters and it was hard for her to imagine how a day that started off so well could be anything but fabulous.

Sometimes, as an adult, it's challenging to have that much confidence that everything is and will be good, but for kids it happens naturally. Of course, it cuts both ways when you're eight. If Toby had talked to her about her day ten minutes later, when the glue wasn't sticking and Noni was scribbling all over one of the boxes, she probably would have responded that she was bound to have a terrible, no good, very bad day.

When you're an entrepreneur, or married to one, you tend to have some days when the glue won't stick and when other people are scribbling all over your boxes. Toby and I, recognizing that we chose this lifestyle, try to view those days as part of the adventure. Those are the days when we grow as individuals and our marriage strengthens as we support each other. It's good to have days like that from time to time, even though it doesn't usually feel like it in the moment. But? I'll be the first to admit that the days when the glue is sticking are more easily enjoyed.

The past few days have been glue-sticking days. On Thursday, Toby presented Kapost at the TechStars conference. I know I'm slightly biased, but I think he, Mike and Nader put together a knock-it-out-of-the-ballpark presentation. That evening, my friend Brenda took the three girls (Noni's first sleepover!) so that Toby and I could go out to celebrate. For us, celebrating success in Toby's work is also a celebration of our ability to stay living in Boulder, a town we have quickly grown to love. Then, in the serendipitous way that things sometimes happen, we had plans for camping on a lake with friends this weekend. It seemed the perfect way to celebrate, even though we made the reservations when there was still snow on the ground, long before I'd even heard of TechStars. I'll let the pictures below describe the weekend.

Eckhart Tolle teaches that we should "realize deeply that the present moment is all you have. Make the NOW the primary focus of your life." Words to live by at all times of course. But over these last few days, it's been easier than ever to think, "that won't be hard to do."

Toby jumping into the clouds. Well, actually the lake.

Evie and I head out on the canoe

Noni, campfire cook

Lu & friends

Family Friendly Camping

2010-08-05T17:22:00.001-07:00

Last week, a friend told me that she had just read about a cave that was recently opened to the public. Every evening, thousands of bats fly out of the cave at the same time. I thought it sounded amazing and wanted to take the girls so we agreed that we'd go together next week with the kids and camp near the cave.

When I looked at the website she sent, I was even more excited about our trip. The Orient Land Trust, where the cave is located, is 22 miles from the nearest gas station, over 30 miles from the nearest supermarket, and full of hot springs. Plus, there is supposed to be a meteor shower on the night we were planning on going. I could only imagine the night sky from such a remote campground.

So I called up to make a reservation.

Reservation guy: Orient Land Trust.

Me: Hi, I'm interested in making a reservation for me and my friend and our kids.

Him: Great. Before you do, I just want to make sure you're aware that the campgrounds are clothing optional.

Me:...

Him: Hello?

Me: Yes, um, so when you say "clothing optional", you mean like in the hot springs? Because I'm fine with naked people in the hot springs.

Him: Yes, there are naked people in the hot springs. Also, people are naked camping.

Me: Naked camping?

Him: Yes.

Me: Hmm, so I am not sure how to say this. I guess, well, is the campsite family friendly?

Him: I'd say it's naked family friendly.

Me:... (Unable to help considering the word naked family friendly and what that would mean for society. Cinderella no longer needing a gown for the ball, Little Red Riding Hood having to scrap her name...)

Him: Should we make that reservation?

Me: No thanks, I think we're good.

Evie and Lucy, Flower Children

2010-07-28T17:01:00.000-07:00

Today both girls came home with their hair in beaded braids, palms covered in henna and wearing tie-dyes. They chanted "Om nama shivaya" on the car ride home, which they had already chanted one hundred and eight times this morning. No, they haven't stepped out of a hot tub time machine from Woodstock. They attended yoga camp at the Eldorado Mountain Yoga Ashram this week and absolutely loved it.

For any Boulder parents looking for camp for their kids next summer, I can't recommend it enough. They spent the week practicing yoga, making art projects, hiking and swimming in an artesian spring water pool (which is actually a fancy way for saying a cold and somewhat murky pool, but the girls didn't seem to mind). They came home every day covered in paint and dirt, with huge smiles on their faces.

And, while the girls were learning meditative practices on the yoga mat, I was enjoying my first week at home this summer with the older girls in camp. I will miss them both once school starts in two (two!!) weeks, but I have to admit that I was practicing my own mantra. Rather than "Om nama shivaya", I would wake up every morning thinking, "They are going to camp! They are going to camp!" Ah, peace.

Some more photos from their week at camp:

The entrance of the camp
The bus the girls painted on the first day. You can see "Lucy" on the window.

Lucy and Nolan were in the Ganesh group

Another Ganesh

Happy campers

Born To Run

2010-07-28T13:52:00.000-07:00

Glee and determination are usually antagonistic emotions, yet the Tarahumara were brimming with both at once, as if running to the death made them feel more alive - from Born to Run

I recently finished reading McDougall's Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Super Athletes, and the Greatest Race The World Has Never Seen. I decided to read it after several people recommended it to me. Of course, I should mention that one of those people is currently preparing for the World Championship Iron Man in Hawaii and another had just finished sprinting up a 13,000 ft mountain wearing those weird barefoot shoes that are all the rage in Boulder these days. But, worthy of the book or not, I decided to give it a try.

I wasn't sure what to expect in a book about running. Turns out it's a page-turner adventure story that takes you from an ultra marathon in Leadville, Colorado to a crazy 50 mile trail race with the Tarahumara Indians in Mexico.

The author makes two main points:

The first point is that the whole running sneaker industry is a load of crap. McDougall heads to the Copper Canyon in Mexico to study the Tarahumara Indians, who run extraordinary distances in nothing but thin-soled sandals. When he comes home, he researches the shoe industry. A few facts, according to the book:

- Since Nike introduced what we all know as the modern running shoe in the 70s, Achilles complaints have increased by 10 percent, while plantar fasciitis has remained the same.

- According to a 2008 research paper for the British Journal of Sports Medicine, there are no evidence-based studies--not one--that demonstrate that running shoes make you less prone to injury.

- Runners wearing top-of-the-line shoes are 123 percent more likely to get injured than runners in cheap shoes.

Basically, the theory is that because of the heel cushioning in modern shoes (with the most cushioning found in the top-of-the-line shoes), we have changed the way that we run, and not for the better. Running in modern running shoes encourages you to land on your heel, rather than your forefoot, bringing all sorts of damage into the heel, knees, and other parts of the body.

(For another article, not mentioned in the book, but that I found interesting regarding the running shoe industry, click here)

It's a compelling argument, but I wasn't sure quite what to make of this point because when the author considers scrapping his own shoes to run barefoot, his coach tells him that his feet haven't been conditioned to run that way yet and that he'll end up with shin splints and who knows what other injuries. He ends up ordering some old Nikes online. But I keep seeing more and more of the "barefoot" running shoes around Boulder and am curious to see where that goes. For now, I'm sticking to my Mizuno Alchemy 8s, but I plan on doing a little more research before buying my next pair of shoes.

Tarahumara sneakers

The American version of running barefoot

The second point the author makes is that humans are designed to run and that the best runners have a true passion for running. I certainly don't have the passion of some of the people in the book--people who have shattered world records, run 100 miles in blistering heat, and who are always looking to push their running to the most extreme limits. However, reading about the joy and abandon with which the people in the book run made we want to put down the book and head out on the trails for myself.

Long before I discovered yoga or attended a church that integrates meditation into the service, I used running as a way to center myself. If I am trying to figure out a solution to a problem, my head is clearest when I'm out on a running trail. If I start feeling like I need a little space from the chatter of kids, I return from a run a much more patient mom. Lately, when I run, I write. Of course I don't drag the computer along with me, but I compose what I am going to write on the trail. For days I have been trying to think up a short story for my next writing group meeting and yesterday, on an hour and a half run, it all came together. I love that feeling.

While I'm not sure what to take from the book when it comes to barefoot running, when it comes to the author's descriptions of cultures with a passion for running, I simply enjoyed reading about the Tarahumara and the other ultra-marathoners in the book. I don't think you need to be an Iron Man or marathoner or even an occasional 5k racer to enjoy this book. As long as you are someone who occasionally finds yourself heading out for a jog, it's a book worth reading.

Noni's first race

A photo from my morning run in Boulder

St.Vrain

2010-07-25T12:23:00.001-07:00

When we moved to Los Angeles two years ago, I figured our camping equipment would sit in the garage, acquiring dust. I had no idea that Los Angeles was surrounded by some of the best camping sites I've ever seen, and that all of them would be empty on the weekends. We camped more often than we ever had that year. On the flip side, I expected that in Boulder we might as well leave our camping equipment out in the living room, as we'd probably be heading out every weekend. It hasn't quite happened that way. It's not that we haven't tried. It's that every time we make reservations at a campsite for the weekend, a hail and snow storm heads our way. Even in June. And so, after living in Colorado for nearly a year, before this weekend we had gone camping once. And it was freezing. Actually, a few degrees below.

This weekend, we decided to fool the weather gods and didn't make reservations at all. We headed up to the trail head by the St. Vrain river, where you can pitch a tent pretty much anywhere. We set ours up as near to the car as we could, which still meant a five minute walk along a fairly rugged trail with the girls and a whole lot of camping equipment. The nearest site we could find was practically in the river. When I looked out of our tent, I felt like we might start floating downstream. It was absolutely beautiful though and the girls played in the river all afternoon. When it started to cool off, we cooked sausage and asparagus over the fire and then ate far too many s'mores. Then we walked down to our friends' campsite down the river and the girls spent the evening running around the woods with their friends.

All in all, it was a great trip. The best part of the weekend was that the weather gods were completely fooled, offering up sunny, 75-degree weather all weekend. I'm already looking forward to two more camping trips we have planned in August. Shhh, just don't tell the weather gods.

walking in the St. Vrain river

Leopard Print, Glitter & Peace

2010-07-23T12:18:00.000-07:00

My least favorite errand with kids? Hands down the post office. No matter where I live, the post office is always a trying experience. There is absolutely nothing for the girls to do or even look at. There is always a line. And there is always a woman in that line who has a pile of 20 boxes. Four of them need tape, all of them need to be sent in different ways to different places, and she's going to pay for them in cash. In Boulder this experience is particularly excruciating because our local post office worker is dutifully taking her, um, medical marijuana and is so spaced out that she cannot for the life of her figure out the change for the inevitable woman-with-cash in front of me. I'm not even kidding when I say that three times this year I have finally just given up, left the line and the post office, only to torture myself with having to come back later.

And so, after a post office trip yesterday, I figured Target today was going to be easy. But Target offers the exact opposite problem of the post office. There is far too much for the girls to look at. Whoever decides the layout of the store is brilliant because even if I am in the kitchen appliances section there is something that my kids just can't live without. Today, after half an hour of please please PLEEEEASEs, I broke down and told the girls they could each pick out something from the 75% off rack. It wasn't the best parenting decision. I'm sure there are all sorts of theories about how I just reinforced the benefits of begging while at a store, but we're nine weeks into summer here and, what can I say, I'm weak.

At any rate, buying Evie and Lucy each a $4 dress isn't a big deal. (Noni made out with another mini Disney princess.) It's just that for the rest of the summer, they will be wearing this:

The Importance of Why and Cardboard Submarines

2010-07-22T11:08:00.000-07:00

"Why is red red and blue blue?" Lucy asked me this week, looking out the window at a stop sign as we were driving home from the grocery store. I told her that the color of light that is reflected from an object is the color we see. Then I rushed home and looked it up and was astonished that I was actually right. I couldn't have gone much beyond that, but still. They often ask questions that I have no clue how to answer. Usually, I love that they are thinking about the world and enjoy learning something new along with them. Sometimes, when they've already asked numerous questions and I've had a long day or have listened to the Glee CD on full volume 3,000 times already, I just want to reply, "No more questions! No more talking! Just let me think!" But, if I didn't think that was a bad idea already, a recent article in Newsweek has me worrying that they should be asking me more questions.

The article, titled The Creativity Crisis (click here to read it in full), explains that:

Preschool children, on average, ask their parents about 100 questions a day. Why, why, why—sometimes parents just wish it’d stop. Tragically, it does stop. By middle school they’ve pretty much stopped asking. It’s no coincidence that this same time is when student motivation and engagement plummet. They didn’t stop asking questions because they lost interest: it’s the other way around. They lost interest because they stopped asking questions.

The article lays out the disturbing facts about creativity in our children and its steep decline:

....after analyzing almost 300,000 Torrance [creativity test] scores of children and adults. Kim found creativity scores had been steadily rising, just like IQ scores, until 1990. Since then, creativity scores have consistently inched downward. “It’s very clear, and the decrease is very significant,” Kim says. It is the scores of younger children in America—from kindergarten through sixth grade—for whom the decline is “most serious.”

A "most serious" decline in creativity does not just mean that kids are missing out on a few years of finger painting. A generation with declining creativity is a serious problem for our society, as "the correlation to lifetime creative accomplishment was more than three times stronger for childhood creativity than childhood IQ." What is this going to mean if we are raising a society of non-creative thinkers? Especially when they will be facing problems and issues we can't even imagine - ones that desperately need creative solutions.

We are not currently suffering a creativity crisis in our household. As I write this, the girls are busy stringing pipe cleaners across their room; I can barely walk across the basement floor due to the cardboard submarine they built earlier this week; and we just got back from a friend's house, where they spent the afternoon making and selling lemonade. But they are only three-, six- and eight-years-old now and I have a real fear that they will lose this ability, that it will be squashed and reshaped into something more form fitting, that they will learn to color within the lines.

I feel fortunate we live in a neighborhood with good public schools. Evie's teacher this year worked hard to encourage creativity and individual projects in her classroom, despite the pressure that she must have felt for her students to achieve certain scores on standardized tests. But the bottom line is that public schools are overcrowded, teachers are overloaded with paperwork, and it is a lot easier for them to simply hand out worksheets than to teach an inspiring lesson.

And graded worksheets, where kids are asked to come up with one correct answer and fill it in the blank, could be exactly what kids don't need. According to Ken Robinson, whose video on Ted Talks explains why we need to rethink the education system we have now (click here to view.), "If you're not prepared to be wrong, you will never come up with anything original. And by the time they've come to be adults, most kids have lost that capacity."

He goes on to say that "all kids have tremendous creative talents. And we squander them. Pretty ruthlessly." Robinson believes that "our only hope for the future is to adopt a new conception of human ecology. One in which we start to reconstitute our conception of the richness of human capacity. Our education system has mined our minds in the way we have strip mined the earth for a particular commodity. And for the future it won't serve us."

As parents, we can be our kids' advocates at school, volunteer in the classrooms, and vote for leaders who prioritize creativity in education. But I realized from reading the Newsweek article that the first step for me is to make sure that I encourage their creativity, always. That means taking a deep breath and letting the basement get messy, which isn't always easy to do. It also means taking a deep breath and answering questions. A lot of them.

In the summer, it's easier for me to encourage creativity in our house. We have more time to start and finish a project, and maybe even clean it up, without having to worry about rushing off to school or piano or soccer. And because of that, I also have more patience to answer questions and encourage projects and experiments. But I hope that the lessons from this article stay with me after this summer. And I hope that, as a country, we can start thinking creatively and asking some more questions ourselves. Like, why is this happening to our kids? And what can we do to fix it?

Rocky Mountain High

2010-07-18T07:56:00.001-07:00

He climbed cathedral mountains, he saw silver clouds below

He saw everything as far as you can see - John Denver

Yesterday Toby and I dropped the girls off with friends and headed to the Indian Peaks to climb Mt. Audubon, a 13,223 ft mountain whose peak offers spectacular views of Colorado's Gore Range, Never Summer Range, Rocky Mountain National Park and several lakes. We agreed that it was one of the best hikes either of us have ever hiked, which is saying quite a bit since we spent our first year together hiking all over Ecuador.

We started off walking on a trail lined by spruce trees and mountain flowers. (I wish I knew my flowers better, but all I can say is that we saw red, yellow, white, blue, and purple flowers. I did recognize columbines.) After about an hour, we passed the tree-line and found ourselves in the tundra, wide areas of grass dotted with wooly actineas (I looked them up. Yellow flowers), with a backdrop of jagged, snowy mountains. The trail became steeper as we neared the top, and we left the tundra behind as we hiked up to the rocky summit.

The flowers:

The top:

At the summit, we sat down to eat our peanut butter sandwiches, drink our natural Gatorade (see prior blog post), and enjoy the view. Then we noticed two guys behind us. They were hard not to notice because they were pounding beer and drinking shots of bourbon. At 10:30 in the morning. At the summit of a 13,223 foot mountain. They were also talking about how they were going to hike down the backside of the mountain instead of turning around and taking the trail back down. For some reason, we found them to be credible sources of information (hmmm, they're drunk so they must know that they're doing!) and decided to follow them. This turned out to be a simultaneously amazing and terrifying experience.

It was amazing because when we looked down, we had views like this:

And terrifying because when we looked up, we had views like this:

I kept thinking that it would just take one clumsy marmot stepping the wrong way on a rock above me and the whole mountain would fall on our heads.

Fortunately, we made it down, shins scraped up from slamming into rocks and missing the lens cap to my camera, but alive. Our reward was getting to hang out at this lake...

...which was beautiful but absolutely freezing cold. Of course Toby had to go in. Which made him feel like this...

After Toby's invigorating swim, we hiked past two other lakes toward the car. We arrived at the bottom with our legs heavy, heads throbbing slightly from the altitude, and huge smiles on our faces. It was a wonderful day.

Some Practical and (Mostly) Natural Products

2010-07-15T11:53:00.000-07:00

Open up our fridge and you'll see a variety of all-natural food brands--Earth Balance, 365, Horizon, Wallaby. I love that I can rely on certain companies to leave out the high fructose corn syrup and the genetically modified ingredients so that I don't have to spend all my time at the store scanning the ingredient list. But I've found that sometimes the best natural products are made by companies that you don't normally associate with anything natural. Here are some products that are not only cheaper but work better than their natural brand competition:

Best find of the summer: Coppertone Kids SPF 50: Pure & Simple

Thank you Christine and Anne Marie for saving my kids' skin and our budget this summer by alerting me to this product. I cannot stand most of the sticky, way-overpriced, all-natural sunblocks, but even worse is the thought of spraying my kids with hormone-disrupting chemicals. I made the switch to all-natural sunblocks a couple of years ago, but you are supposed to use at least a shot glass full of sunblock every two hours, which means you're using about $10 worth of sunblock a day if you are using brands like Badger or California Baby. Plus, they don't work well if you're at the beach or pool--not to mention that they start to smell bad if they've been open for a while. Coppertone Kids Pure & Simple isn't as pure as some of the other brands (and make sure to get the Pure & Simple kind and avoid Coppertone's SPF 70 and all of their spray bottles), as it contains some chemicals and isn't organic. However, it does not contain retinyl palmitate or oxybenzone, chemicals that are known carcinogens. (According to Newsweek, these two chemicals, in 40% of sunscreens, have been linked to melanomas, allergies, hormone disruption and cell damage.) I love this sunscreen because it spreads easily, held up well at the pool yesterday, and is wonderful for our budget.

Want more information? Click here to read about the top 15 sunscreens.

Best New Product: Gatorade G Series

When Toby and I ran the Nashville Country Music Marathon together, he hydrated by drinking only water, rather than drinking a sports drink containing salt and electrolytes. He ended up in the ER tent, his entire body cramping up. Since then, I've been careful to drink sports drinks when I exercise and have always preferred Gatorade to other drinks. We also rely on it whenever the girls have the stomach flu--it seems to be the quickest way to rehydrate them. However, I have never felt right about giving the girls, or myself, a drink laden with high fructose corn syrup and red #40. So I was delighted to find that this summer, just in time for my 1/2 marathon training, Gatorade came out with the Gatorade G Series, using natural flavors like fruit flavors, sea salt and natural sweeteners. It tastes better too!

Favorite Cleaning Supply: green works natural all purpose cleaner... by Clorox

I love you, 7th Generation, for your Vermont roots and your admirable mission. But? You don't work! After a couple years of streaky mirrors and dirty counter tops, I discovered green works at Target. It's an all natural coconut-based cleaning agent that actually works! Not that my counter tops aren't still dirty, but at least it's not because of the cleaner I use.

That's my list for now. Let me know if you have any other favorite natural product with a brand name you wouldn't expect!

Tiggy

2010-07-13T10:49:00.000-07:00

Our last stop on our trip back east was visiting my grandmother, Marjorie "Marge" Dearnley Helmetag, or, as her grandchildren and great-grandchildren call her, Tiggy. Tiggy is almost ninety-one years old. When I worry about her getting old, I always pause and consider her best friend and nightly dinner companion, Helen, who is over one hundred, and Tiggy's mother, who lived to be one hundred and four. Compared to them, Tiggy's still in the spring of her "old age" years.

I also consider her laugh, which is contagious and bubbles up quickly to the surface. Tiggy disproves the myth that old age turns people cranky and humorless. It's probably a good thing she had that sense of humor over the years. She had three sons who, even in their sixties, are some of the most energetic people I know. (On Thanksgiving at our house in Vermont, there was never any belly scratching in front of a football game. My uncles and dad would have us out and about -- first on a hike, then playing tennis, then playing golf or, if the Vermont snow and ice came early, skating and skiing. We'd finally collapse into the turkey dinner at the end of the day, only to have my uncle Keith announce that it was time for us all to go bowling. Which of course we all did.)

I wish that Tiggy lived closer. I know that she would delight in the girls' piano recitals and soccer games and just seeing us on a more regular basis. But I am thankful that we do have our summer visits. She's the only grandparent on my side that all the girls have met (Tiggy's husband, Pop Pop, died when I was twelve and my mom's parents died when Evie was still a baby) and it's important for me that they know her. From this summer, they have memories of dancing around her apartment with Pop Pop's old canes, eating key lime pie (seriously, the best I've ever tasted), looking through old photographs, and splashing in the pool with Tiggy watching.

I wonder what memories they will carry with them throughout the years. When I think of Tiggy's mom, I remember the blue and green floral print of one of her dresses, the pastel candies she always offered us in her apartment, and that she told me she had decided to only eat chocolate ice cream and french fries after she turned one hundred because, why not? When I think of Pop Pop, I think of his quirky sense of humor and how he always laughed about these skinny "Rabbity Rabbit" dolls they gave us for Christmas. I picture him in their house in Chestnut Hill, surrounded by the antiques he loved to collect, the house full of people, all drinking cocktails in crystal glasses. It's sad to think of whole people reduced to a handful of memories, but there are lessons even in those handfuls. Lessons about appreciating what you love and keeping a sense of humor and surrounding yourself with friends and family.

Hopefully there is still plenty of time for the girls to create more memories with their great-grandmother. We'll be back again next summer, ready for more key lime pie.

Noni And The Goose Egg

2010-07-12T18:01:00.000-07:00

This blog post was supposed to be about Noni's first ballet class. How this afternoon's class was her first class on her own, how she beamed for the entire forty-five minutes, how my heart broke a little watching my baby dancing around and following the teacher like she'd been doing it for years. Except, two hours later, that seems like ages ago. The mood of the afternoon shifted between then and now.

Once, when Evie was a little over a year old, I watched her fall down the stairs. She had just learned to climb them on her own. She teetered at the top. And then I watched, horrified, as she tumbled down the stairs, head first, time moving slower that seemed possible and yet too quickly for me to stop her as I watched her painful descent. She landed in a heap on the bottom, crying, and I ran and grabbed her, forgetting anything I'd ever learned about spines and trauma and not moving someone, and sat on the couch shaking for the next hour. Fortunately, she was fine. And since then, I have been an incredibly lucky parent, thinking of hospitals as the places where my babies were born, not places they frequent needing stitches or casts.

And then this afternoon I experienced that feeling all over again. Time going by slowly and quickly at once, watching my child fall head first toward injury. When we parked the car at home after ballet, Noni stood up on Lucy's booster seat by the door. Then she tripped. Lucy, Evie and I all watched as she plummeted head first to the concrete road, landing on her forehead. No outstretched arms to break her fall. Once again, any of that practical lifeguard training went out the window and I grabbed her and held her tight. An egg sized lump and smattering of blood appeared on her forehead.

I came to my senses a little and checked her pupils, which looked normal. I thought about the ER. Then I thought about our neighbor. We live right next door to an ER doctor. This is lucky for us. This is unfortunate for him. Our poor, sweet doctor neighbor who, after a year of living next to us, has inspected two of Lucy's swollen bee stings, a rash on Noni's stomach, and now a head wound. I guess I should admit that this is actually why I haven't spent so much time in the ER. He looked at Noni's head, her eyes, asked her about other injuries, and then came over to check on her two hours later. Like I said, lucky for us. It turns out that she is fine. A little bloodied and bruised, but fine.

And so, rather than thinking about ballet and mourning the end of Noni's toddler years, I am just feeling incredibly grateful right now for three healthy kids. Especially for one who still manages an extra sweet smile, even with a goose egg on her head.

The July 400

2010-07-07T07:55:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, some of our friends started the July 400. As they describe it: "The July 400 is a celebration of our Independence from Great Britain through running and camaraderie. Since the inaugural running in 2003, 250 people have strapped on shoes and ran, jogged, walked, and crawled 400 meters in honor of our Nation’s birthday. Time is not important; participation is. In the absence of a track, courses have been carved out of diverse landscapes ranging from fire trails in the mountains of Colorado, to horse tracks in Kenya, to the highlands of Mexico. The hottest head-to-head racing, and subsequently fastest times, have occurred on the banks of the Ohio River in Louisville, Kentucky. The July 400 is a great way to get your holiday started so invite your friends, post your results here, and turn left and go hard–HAPPY JULY 4th!"

We participated for the first time this year, meeting up at the Frederick High School track at 8:00 AM on the 4th. It's a pretty brutal length - short enough to be an all-out sprint and long enough to feel like your lungs are going to explode. But the kids loved it and it was a great way to kick off the holiday. Next year, wherever you are, consider joining in! For more information, check out their website here: http://july400.wordpress.com/

Pre-race stretching, led by Stella Henson

The founders, Josh and Adam Henson, with Josh's son Charlie

Women's starting line up

Charlie Henson continues in the family tradition

Men's race

Kids' race line-up

Four Weeks Back East

2010-07-06T14:12:00.001-07:00

Right now, I am writing from steamy, hot Annapolis and feeling grateful for air conditioning. I'm also grateful that our four week trip has been wonderful so far. (We still have Philly to go before we head home.) Some highlights:

Boat.

On our first stop of the trip, we picked up Evie and visited my dad and Diane in Rhode Island. The 70 degree weather and ocean breezes made me realize that it's been far too long since I spent any time in New England. It's also been too long since I spent time out on the water on a boat. Growing up in Vermont, we lived on the boat in the summer - our days were spent jumping off the rocks at Red Rocks or swimming in to a beach on Juniper Island or hanging onto a tube that was whipping far too quickly across the water. My dad lives right next to a boatyard and we took several rides on his boat during our visit. While my childhood didn't include salt water and jellyfish, watching Evie and Lucy dancing on the front of the boat brought back lots of memories of summers with my sister.

Journey.

Some people might hear Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" and think of the early 80s. Some might think of Glee's season finale. I will forever think of the week we spent in western Pennsylvania with the girls and their cousins. Every time we got in the car, the kids all requested that we listen to it, at full volume. Then, Jack's tennis racquet would become an air guitar, Evie's a microphone, and everyone else would just dance and sing the lyrics at the top of their lungs in the back. If there was a video definition for "joy" in the dictionary, I could make a submission. And if I could only figure out how to upload the video from my camera, I could include it on this blog too...

Family.

It goes without saying that Colorado is too far away from so many people we love. I was determined to see as many people as we could this summer, but with four parents living in four different states (well, three and a district), it was no easy feat figuring out how to fit it all in to four weeks. But we did it and I am thankful to have had the time to see as many people as we have. Along with our parents and their spouses/significant others, we've managed to see all of Toby's aunts and uncles on both sides of the family, Toby's brother and his family, my aunt and uncle, and all of the girls' cousins on both sides. I have lots of great memories of barbecues and pool days with family from the last couple weeks.

Friends.

Our last stop was Frederick, which is always bittersweet. I love that we can come back after a year and I can feel like no time has passed since we last saw our friends. Their kids, however, with their longer hair and missing or bigger teeth, are a reminder that it has been far too long. But the girls jumped right back into the fray like no time had passed for them either. Thank you to all of our Frederick friends for making coming back so easy.

East Coast.

Until two years ago, I had lived on the east coast for most of my life. In all that time, I never gave much thought to the landscape. I would spend time out west and marvel at the snow-capped mountains and expansive sky, but the east coast just seemed, well, normal. After two years away, I have a new appreciation for the landscape I took for granted. Whether we were driving through the green, rolling hills of Pennsylvania or splashing in a creek under the tall leafy trees in Maryland, or looking out at the ocean in Rhode Island, it all strikes me now as uncommonly beautiful. I love the views and landscape we have in Colorado, but I will miss all of this when we go back.

Evie on England

2010-06-17T05:46:00.000-07:00

My dad and Evie are back from their trip overseas, which Evie described as "awesome". We are currently hanging out in Rhode Island for the week so we've got all sorts of time zones going on here, which explains why I am going to bed on Colorado time and waking up on English time...

I asked Evie to describe some of the things she saw on her trip. Here's what she had to say:

Favorite thing about England: The British Museum. It had really cool stuff about history and there was a really cool audio-guide.

Best food you ate: Fish and Chips at Sea Fresh.

Worst part of trip: Trying to go to sleep on the plane.

Most surprising thing about England: Big Ben was smaller than the London Eye.

Thoughts on their accents: Funny.

Biggest difference between England and the U.S.: All the tourist sites because there are so many. Also it's smaller than here.

Weirdest thing you saw: The duck that jumped on our pedal boat in Oxford right next to me and kept quacking.

One thing you learned: Learning how Stonehenge was built without all the resources we have to do stuff.

Welcome home Evie and Nid!

Three Girls, Three Schools, Three Philosophies on Learning

2010-06-13T18:28:00.000-07:00

Noni will head off to preschool this fall, two days a week, on Wednesday and Friday mornings. This is a simultaneously wonderful and sad thought for me. Sad because my last baby is heading off to school. Wonderful because I'm excited for her and, let's face it, I'm excited for me to have eight whole hours to myself a week. Eight hours to paint and write and climb mountains and, probably, to learn that eight hours isn't all that much time. But still. It's more time than I've had in nine years so it's sounding kind of luxurious right now.

With summer still in full swing (or, according to the calendar, not even officially started yet), I am not too focused yet on how I will feel when Noni walks into her classroom on the first day. But I did just get an email from Noni's school director today, which started with a quote about King Sun climbing higher in the summer sky, that got me thinking that, while Noni is following in the footsteps of her sisters as she heads off to school this fall, the girls have all gone to notably different types of preschools.

When Evie turned three, we had just moved to Maryland and I signed her up for the school our neighbors there recommended. I soon found out that it was an evangelical Christian school, which is not really our thing, but I loved her teachers, who were warm and encouraging. I'll never forget Mrs. Tregoe and her guitar. She taught Evie the love of singing. She would come home from school belting out the lyrics to every Jesus song out there (Yes, Jesus loves me! The Bible tells me so!) It was a traditional school so she also learned her letters and numbers and how to stand in a line to walk to recess. She loved it. She walked right in and never looked back. I remember her coming home after the first day and she wanted to play school. To "play school", I had to pretend to be Evie and cry because she had to leave school, while Evie pretended to be her teacher, telling me I'd get to come back tomorrow.

Lucy started her preschool years at the same school, but obviously had to change when we moved to Los Angeles. "Where will Lucy go to school?" was one of my first thoughts once I knew we were moving. From my desk in Maryland, I discovered one open spot at a school I found online, knowing nothing about it except for its convenient location, and sent Toby to look at it while he was working in LA for the week. As soon as he finished the tour of the school, he called me and told me he couldn't be more certain that Lucy would love it. He was right. Every corner of the school was bursting with children's artwork, much of it displayed outside. The kids played freely in the yard and there were tables covered in boxes of paint, wine corks, puzzle pieces, glue, or other materials for the kids to put together as they wished. You couldn't walk into her school without feeling happy about the creative energy swirling around you. Lucy is a free spirit and the school was absolutely perfect for her. Toby and I have marveled many times how much Lucy grew up that year we spent in Los Angeles and I give most of the credit to her school.

With Noni, as you know, we have moved yet again. So once again, I had to find out a different preschool. A few people had recommended one, a Waldorf school, just a few blocks from our house and in September I walked down to check it out. I immediately fell in love and didn't look any further. The yard of the school looks like something out of a fairytale. All of the play structures are made of wood and blend in with the trees and plants. Inside, Laura Ingalls would feel quite at home. Hand-dyed dolls sit around a wooden table drinking out of wooden cups in one corner and a table for peeling apples and making bread is in the other. The teacher talked about how they spend their days taking walks around the neighborhood, preparing for the numerous festivals they celebrate, and cooking and playing in the classroom. I don't know yet how Noni will feel about going to school this fall, but I am confident that it will be a great place for her.

With Noni heading off to a Waldorf school this fall, we have tried structure and unstructured and now seemingly-unstructured-but-actually-quite-structured. One school was traditional, one arts-based, and now one's focus is on the natural world. I can't help but wonder how the different starts to each of their school experiences has and will affect the girls and shape the way they view both school and the world. Or will all that really matters be that each of them went to a preschool where they were taught by loving and dedicated teachers?

Full Circle

2010-06-08T06:21:00.001-07:00

This morning, while I take the car to the mechanic, my eight-year-old daughter will be watching the changing of the guards. I had written before about my dad's plan to take Evie to London (nearly twenty-five years to the day from the day his mother took me on the same trip), and on Sunday evening I dropped the two of them off at the airport and they were on their way. I expected that when I watched Evie walking through the sliding glass doors, wearing a backpack full of books, a travel journal, and her stuffed "Bubby" and dragging her suitcase behind her, I would feel both sadness and a moment of anxiety at sending her off overseas. Instead, I found myself simply excited for her. Well, that and maybe a little envious.

I talked to Evie yesterday via Skype and she had slept for nearly the whole flight over, taken a ride on the London Eye, and was heading out for fish'n'chips. My dad emailed me today to let me know that she gone to bed at 8:30 London time last night and was still asleep eleven hours later. Today, their plan was to head to Churchill's bunker, the changing of the guards, and the British Museum.

As one of three kids, Evie rarely gets any one-on-one attention. One day this spring I left Lucy and Noni home with Toby while I walked to get Evie from school. On the half mile walk back from school, Evie turned to me and said, "It's nice to get some alone time together like this." Even fifteen minutes of it was special to her. Clearly we need to make more of an effort to have some time alone with each of the girls. This is why I love that Evie is having a whole week right now with just my dad. He began his email today saying that "Evie is a great traveling buddy!" I love that for this week, she can walk through a museum at her own pace (which, as Christine wrote here, can a much different pace than her little sisters') and have an adult's undivided attention.

I also love that Evie is making memories right now that will last her a lifetime. I still have distinct memories from my own trip twenty-five years ago and a photo album full of pictures of me and my grandmother, in our matching beige trench coats, touring England.

Before they left for their trip, my dad found some pounds he had saved in a pile of money in his drawer. He brought them with him on his trip, but when he presented them at the restaurant, the waiter laughed. "We can't take those. You're going to have to bring them to a bank. They're at least twenty-five years old." And that's when he realized that they had been saved from the trip my grandmother took me on all those years ago.

The Princess-Off

2010-06-03T12:17:00.000-07:00

A new family just moved across the street from our house. Remembering how much I appreciated it when Hannah and Ian showed up at our door in Studio City with a plate of cookies, I baked them some brownies and the girls and I delivered them this afternoon.

Two little girls opened the door when we knocked - Carson, 4, and Delia, 2. Delia took one look at Noni, who was dressed in - what else? - a princess dress and turned around and ran back inside. A few minutes later, she reappeared. This time she was dressed in a yellow Belle dress and clutching a Sleeping Beauty and Snow White doll. Noni gasped. Seriously. I'm not just saying that -- she actually took a deep breath of air. Delia walked up to Noni and they stared at each other for a minute. Then they began admiring each other's dresses. Noni fingered the Belle brooch on Delia's dress and Delia pointed out the flowers on Noni's. They stood looking at each other in mutual admiration while I chatted with Delia's mom.

Before we left, we invited the our new neighbors to Noni's princess birthday party. Then her mom asked Noni if she'd like to come over sometime soon to see their "basement full of princess dresses."

As Cinderella says (because, yes, I can quote Cinderella off the top of my head these days), "a dream is a wish your heart makes." For a sixteen-year-old princess, that dream might be a prince on a white horse. For a two-year-old girl, a little girl with a basement full of princess dresses right across the street is about as good as it gets.

Later, the girls came over to play. You can see that Noni was a little bit excited about it.

What Are You Reading This Summer?

2010-06-02T18:08:00.000-07:00

For some reason, over the past year I have read a number of books about World War II and the Holocaust. I don't shy away from books that deal with difficult topics, but you can only read so much about such a horrific time and at a certain point I started trying to avoid books about WWII. Except people kept recommending books about it for some reason. Two of the books, Sarah's Key and The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society were forgettable. But, while you might not think of WWII books as summer reading, the three books below are all brilliant and original and, while they deal with a depressing topic, ultimately uplifting.

I love Jonathan Safran Foer and his wife, Nicole Krauss, proved to be just as brilliant. (Their son is still in diapers but I'm already waiting for his books to come out.) Both authors were recently listed on the New Yorker's list of twenty best authors under forty. This book was both funny and heartbreaking and the characters are completely original.

While this book is told by Death, worn out from all of his work during WWII, it is ultimately a story of hope. As soon as I put it down, I thought "Who should I pass this on to?"

I loved this story of two Russians, Lev and Kolya, who are given a chance to save their lives by finding a dozen eggs for a Soviet colonel to use in his daughter's wedding cake. Not an easy task in a city where the Nazis' have cut off all supplies. Benioff is a Hollywood screen writer and it shows in his writing - this book is definitely a page-turner. And yet it manages to be thoughtful at the same time. At the end, he turns on the action a bit too much to be realistic, but I still loved this book and highly recommend it.

The books on my to-read shelf right now are fortunately not about WWII:

Wuthering Heights

Let the Great World Spin

The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears

Drinking Coffee Elsewhere

Cutting For Stone

I also just got a great list of books on Facebook today when I asked if anyone had suggestions for books this summer. (I think I'm overly optimistic about how much time I'm actually going to have to read, but it's nice to have a list of fall reading too!) I love getting recommendations from friends. Let me know if you've read anything good recently.

No matter what you're reading, I hope you get some time swinging on a hammock or with sand between your toes to enjoy a good book this summer!

Bolder Boulder

2010-06-01T09:02:00.000-07:00

This weekend, 54,000 people ran in the Bolder Boulder, a 10 kilometer race through town. The streets were lined with 31 bands and people handing out everything from Gatorade to bacon to marshmallows. After finishing the race, I met my family at our friends' house, where we cheered on the other runners and the pro-racers (and even managed to pick my college roommate out of the huge crowd!) It was a great way to end the long weekend.

Lucy and Calvin handing out high fives and popsicles to the runners.

Princess Noni cheers on the racers.

Summer & A Lesson from Evie's Teacher

2010-05-27T18:06:00.001-07:00

Today was the last day of school for the girls this year. It's summer! I now have a first and fourth grader. I think that makes me about 300 years old.

I remember how nervous I was sending both of them off to school last fall. It was Evie's first day of school at a new school for the third time in three years. Her comment from the September before in Studio City, that "nobody notices me at recess", still rang fresh in my ears. I remember thinking to myself, "Good luck!" as she walked in the door.

Good luck is exactly what both girls had this year. They both made close friends, learned more than I imagined they could in one school year, and walked to school everyday with smiles on their faces (unless we were running late, in which case Evie would be nearly in tears wailing, "C'mon Mom, we're going to be laaaate!"). A lot of the joy they both found at school this year can be attributed to their wonderful teachers.

Evie's teacher wrote a letter to the class that she read out loud today. I just thought it was beautiful -- and a lesson for all of us. Hopefully she won't mind that I copied part of it here:

"...I hope you'll remember that we all have strengths and areas we can improve -- both in our academics and in our relationships with others. If you're ever feeling down about something that's hard for you, think of something you excel at or enjoy because you have many talents. I've learned that life is all about our attitudes and outlooks. During my travels abroad [she taught in Ecuador for several years before moving back to Boulder] and around our country I've seen people living with much less but still with smiles on their faces. I hope you'll value your connections with others and your personal goals and accomplishments more than appearances and possessions. But most of all, please, be optimistic in life. People around you will thrive from the joy and positive energy you share with them. Most of the time, all you have to do is smile and you've already brightened my day!...Enjoy your summer, enjoy 4th grade, and enjoy life!"

I found that letter more valuable than all the math or reading or science that should could have taught Evie all year. Except that I love that she was teaching all of those subjects with those values behind her teaching.

And so, with summer starting, I would like to just take a minute to say THANK YOU to all the teachers out there. Not only Lucy and Evie's wonderful teachers, but to all of you who make a difference in children's lives. I have seen from my own girls how much difference a good teacher can make.

Toby and Kita Plus Three

2010-05-25T16:29:00.001-07:00

This summer, our family is going to be filmed periodically. Doing the dishes, playing outside, typing on our blogs, whatever. From time to time, a camera will be there. You see, we are on a new reality tv show. Okay, we're not on a reality tv show, BUT I did get a taste for what that would be a like a couple weeks ago. Toby's company is one of three companies that will be followed on camera this summer for Tech Stars. One afternoon, the camera followed him home.

And then the camera followed me as I made a snack for the girls. I would like to stop here and mention that we eat pretty healthy food in our family. I am somewhat obsessed with organic and local food whenever possible and, despite my girls' natural inclinations toward candy and processed meats, I generally offer them healthy snacks. So with the camera on me, what did I do? Panic and pull out the Cheez-its. Which I proceeded to give to Noni on a ceramic plate (not a bowl, a plate). Then I watched her walk across the floor, Cheez-its falling off the plate left and right, and then drop the plate. And that, my friends, was my fifteen minutes of fame.

Fortunately people have done much worse things on reality television. And, fortunately, Megan chose to cut most of that from the film. I think she did a great job showing the three companies and caught some cute Noni and Lucy moments in the process. Here's the first of the summer series. Enjoy!

http://www.techstars.org/thefounders/

Gratitude

2010-05-23T07:37:00.000-07:00

My word of the day is gratitude. I am feeling it in abundance this morning. I probably haven't been feeling as thankful as I should over the past couple of weeks. Toby has been working late hours almost every night and I was admittedly a little stressed when I noticed that our upcoming party was getting big. (As my friend Tom wrote on the evite, "Crikes! It's a three digit partah!") I couldn't quite figure out how three digits worth of people were going to fit in our little yard and house, or how I was going to get our house from messy to party-ready clean.

Then I woke up yesterday morning and the sun was shining. We had thirty-five lbs of smoked pork in the croc pot(s) and a bunch of wonderful people coming to our house that afternoon. I knew right then it was going to be a good day. It was crazy, sure. I handed out probably a dozen Band-aids, but mostly to put on scrapes I could barely see. And there were rumors that the eight-year-olds were drinking beer, but it turned out that they were just making "stinky potion" in the bottles by mixing beer and mud. (Hopefully we still have a few more years to go before the kids are sneaking alcohol from our parties to drink.) But all in all, it turns out that everyone fit in our yard just fine. We ended the evening with marshmallows and live music under a bright moon.

Despite going to bed at midnight last night, I woke up at 5 AM. I considered cleaning up, but couldn't quite handle it that early. Instead I went for a run and saw foxes, prairie dogs, birds and a beautiful view of Green Mountain. The whole time I was running, I couldn't help thinking how lucky I am.

And so, gratitude.

A photo from my run this morning

Smoothies

2010-05-18T14:12:00.000-07:00

My girls are not good fruit eaters. At all. Especially Evie, whose fruit tolerance is pretty much limited to apples, which may keep the doctor away but are probably the lamest fruit of all when it comes to vitamins. So far I've tried to reassure myself that at least she eats broccoli and peas and her daily vitamins should cover the rest. But recently I've discovered the smoothie. It's hardly a revolutionary discovery, but it's made a huge change in the health habits of our family.

Here are our go-to recipes:

For me:

6 oz plain Wallaby lowfat yogurt

a handful of frozen peaches

a cup of milk

1 banana

For the girls:

6 oz plain Wallaby lowfat yogurt

a handful of frozen peaches

a handful of frozen strawberries

a handful of frozen raspberries

a cup of milk

1 banana

I've been thinking of sneaking in some kale or flax seed or other healthy food, but I'm not sure I want to mess with a good thing.

Evie in stripes with a smoothie.

2 Days, 3 Hikes

2010-05-17T07:32:00.000-07:00

I spent most of this weekend in hiking boots, carrying either a backpack or Noni. My sister was in town for a quick visit, which was threatened on the first day when Lucy came down with the stomach flu and the weather report predicted thunderstorms all weekend. Fortunately, Lucy was playing soccer twelve hours after getting sick and the thunderstorms never happened. Mollie and I hiked Green Mountain together on Saturday and then Mt. Sanitas with my family on Sunday, but my favorite hike was one we didn't even intend to do.

On Saturday evening, the clouds cleared from the sky and at 6 pm Mollie suggested we go for a walk around the neighborhood. My legs were already tired from our hike that day, but we planned on a quick walk. Our neighborhood, however, backs right up against the Foothills and we soon found ourselves walking along Mt. Sanitas Valley trail. I never realized it, but the evening is one of the best times to hike. The low sun made the colors of the wildflowers pop and the valley was covered in budding purple and yellow flowers. Behind us, the clouds were lifting from Green Mountain and it looked like something from Lord of The Rings. Actually, we weren't thinking of Lord of The Rings, but rather of Twilight when a man walked by with black hair and piercing white-blue eyes. When he passed, Mollie whispered that we may have just seen a vampire.

When we hiked up to get a view of Boulder, we could see a rainbow in the distance. The hike already felt magical when we looked down and saw a black creature zig zagging up the hill. Hiking in the early evening has some potential drawbacks - like that the mountain lions are just waking up and probably hungry. At first I felt a stab of fear, thinking it was a bear, but the animal moved too quickly. Mollie determined that it must be a dog, but as it headed toward us, we realized that it was a black fox. It ran across the trail right in front of us and then sat up on a rock, about twenty feet above us. I wish I had my camera at that moment, but I will never forget his gray-black face looking down at us. We joked that it was probably the vampire we had just seen, transformed into his animal form. Unlikely. But either way, it felt like a magical evening.

Our Family's New Obsession: American Idol

2010-05-13T11:24:00.001-07:00

Over the past eight years, we've never really watched television together as a family. I know, I know, we're hardly even American. We'd probably be arrested in Arizona. But, when I'm watching television (Glee, Modern Family), the girls are usually in bed. And when the girls are watching tv (Sponge Bob, Angelina), I am usually using that time to frantically clean the house or write or send an email or pay a bill, or at the very least to sit in the other room with a magazine and enjoy a little bit of quiet.

And then came this season's American Idol. These days, if you were to stop by our house at 7 pm on a Tuesday night, you'd find the whole family in front of the television. We have strong opinions too. Evie is so enamored by Crystal that she recently asked me if I could start calling her "Crystal" as a nickname. And I have a huge "musical crush" on Lee. (But we can both agree that they sound amazing together. See below.)

I'm sure there are better ways to spend time as a family than in front of the screen, but I kind of like our new tradition. Evie has recently said that she wants to be on American Idol when she gets older so now I figure this time is just research for her. Plus, it will help with their reading skills. How else are they going to recognize everyone in People magazine if they don't start watching tv now?

Today. May 12th. Two weeks from SUMMER vacation. Seriously.

2010-05-12T07:44:00.001-07:00

Mother's Day, Boulder-Style

2010-05-10T05:27:00.000-07:00

When my friend Tori told me about the all-women Title 9K Mother's Day run, I was skeptical. Isn't Mother's Day supposed to be about lounging in pajamas and reading The New York Times while other people make you breakfast? Apparently not in Boulder. And so, at 7:45 AM on Mother's Day, I found myself driving toward the reservoir to run a race.

As soon as we stepped out of the car, I was glad I had come. The sun was shining, Indigo Girls (who else for an all-women run?) were blaring from the speakers, and we ran into about half the people we know in Boulder. Plus, the girls were thrilled to run in their own race that morning. They start them early in Boulder, so even Noni ran in the 2 & 3 year-old run.

The course itself was beautiful, around the reservoir with a clear view of the mountains. I loved seeing all the kids out with "Go Mom!" signs around the course. Tori and I ran it together (well, I ran it to her jogging pace) and talked about how fourteen years ago in Ecuador, we never would have imagined that we'd be living in the same town and that our two-year-olds would be running a race together.

Once the race was over, I spent the rest of Mother's Day in a much more typical and relaxing fashion. My friend Alex threw a post-race brunch (where all the dads had to bring the food) and I ended the day with a pedicure. I have to admit, I enjoyed the luxury of the afternoon that much more knowing that I had run a race that morning. Perhaps I've been sucked into the Gortex Vortex after all...

My littlest runner

April Showers Bring May.... Snow?

2010-05-07T06:31:00.000-07:00

In December, I no more desire a rose

Than wish a snow in May's newfangled mirth;

But like each thing that in season grows.

-William Shakespeare

Dear Colorado,

You had me at hello. You must know this of course, as you're obviously dreamy with those magnificent mountains and baby blue skies. And even when you started acting all frosty and cold in October, I didn't mind because I thought skiing! And sledding! Winter fun after a year in southern California! But now we have to talk because, well because it's MAY. There are fifteen school days until summer break. And yet this morning we woke up under a blanket of white. I know the mountains look good with a little snow on the top, but I think it's time to embrace the season. My little struggling plants are shivering in their beds. Let's see spring Colorado! Ducklings and green leaves and flowers everywhere you look! I know Maryland sets the bar pretty high for this season, but I'm not expecting you to measure up. I just want to see a little more effort on your part. Let's start with no more snow. Thanks!

Love,

P.S. I should take a moment to thank you for the tree out front. Even though it is currently covered in snow, the pink flowers are spectacular.

Colorado Camping

2010-05-02T19:36:00.001-07:00

We just got back from our first Colorado camping trip. Hard to believe it's our first, as we are pretty much in camping country and have lived here for ten months already. Then again, it started snowing eight months ago and still hasn't completely stopped so I guess it makes sense. Actually, it looked like it might snow this weekend. Or hail. Or thunder. All week, we kept checking an increasingly gloomy weather report. Then we woke up Saturday morning to sunshine, packed up the car and were on our way. (That isn't, I should mention, to say that it wasn't cold. It was sunny but cool during the day and then dropped to 28 degrees at night. But gathered around the campfire and then snuggled up in our 20 degree sleeping bags (and grateful for that extra eight degrees), we were always comfortable.)

Here's what I love about camping: No computers, television, or even cell phones; spending an entire day and night outside, under the sun or stars; singing and listening to guitar by the campfire; the s'mores of course, but also all the other food that tastes that much better when eaten in the fresh air.

Then, and because of all that I listed above, there's what Toby mentioned today: the whole slowing down of life that comes with camping. We kept talking about how strange and wonderful it felt to just sit in our camp chairs for most of the afternoon and evening. At home, there's always a million chores to be done, but when you're camping, there's no reason not to sit and just enjoy the fire and company of friends and family. It's such a wonderful way for our family to spend time together too because everyone is happy. I realized yesterday that Noni can spend hours throwing stones into water and all three girls can disappear into the tent for endless pillow fights.

My favorite memory from our trip is sitting around the fire after dinner - Bob and Toby were playing guitar, Max was playing drums, and they began to make up songs. Everyone contributed to the lyrics. At one point I looked around the fire and saw that everyone was laughing together. Cold or no, it felt like the way things ought to be.

The Crabgrass Queen

2010-04-24T09:23:00.000-07:00

The radiant dandelion, shining in the grass, like a spark dropped from the sun.

- Henry Ward Beecher

In most of the country, spring is here. In Colorado, we've had hail and snow this week, but I'm guessing spring has to be coming soon, even though the weather reports keep describing the "winter storm" that we're experiencing in April. Anyway, I love the warm weather and flowers and green leaves that spring brings. It also brings a lot of people out working on their lawns and, while Lucy and I have enjoyed working on the flower beds (full of now frozen seeds) in the past couple of weeks, the whole lawn care thing stresses me out a bit. I don't like pouring chemicals on our lawn and, as a result, our lawn usually looks pretty crappy. And then I feel bad that it looks crappy. It's a conundrum.

This is why I loved Robert Wright's article on lawn care this week. (Click here to read The Dandelion King.) It sums up my feelings exactly. Apparently some other Boulderites feel the same way. (Click here to read The Dandelion Spraying article) I like the idea of a natural lawn movement. (Long live dandelions! Long live crabgrass!) It's not about not caring for your lawn. Actually, Toby and I have declared tomorrow to be "lawn care day" (which, admittedly, is an annual event). It's about deciding that a chemically-altered unnaturally green lawn shouldn't be considered beautiful anymore. So how about this year we leave screwing the world to the golfers (actually Tiger, I'm not talking about you), and embrace the scrubby, wholesome, natural lawns that nature intended.

The Princess And The Peas

2010-04-19T18:05:00.000-07:00

Lucy recently figured out a way to use Noni's princess obsession to her advantage.

Me: Girls, what do you want for lunch?

Noni: Mac and cheese.

Lucy: Pizza.

Me: I'll make one or the other.

Noni: Mac and cheese!

Lucy: Pizza!

Noni: Mac and cheese!

Lucy: Noni, princesses only like to eat pizza.

Noni: Okay, pizza.

I thought this was actually a pretty good strategy. If it worked, I'd just about be able to hang up my parenting hat. I could potentially convince her that princesses always say please, go to bed right away without complaint, love sitting in car seats... the possibilities are endless. So I gave it a try myself at dinner.

Noni: I don't want my peas.

Me: Noni, princesses love peas. Love them. They eat them all the time.

Noni: No they don't.

Sigh. I was worth a try.

The Uniform

2010-04-16T11:55:00.001-07:00

When Lucy was three-years-old, she went through a ballet leotard phase. She refused to wear anything but leotards. At first, we thought it would be just a short-lived phase. But as the weeks and then months went buy, we realized the leotards were there to stay and we tossed the grimy gray-pink leotard she'd been wearing everyday and bought her a variety of leotards - the standard pale pink, light blue, long-sleeved purple velvet, pink camouflage patterned. She became quite well known throughout town, especially when winter came and she walked around town in snow boots and a leotard. Several times that year, I'd introduce myself to someone and she'd say, "Oh, I know you. You're the mom with the little girl in the leotard."

Now Lucy is six-years-old and, unless she's in ballet class, she tends to prefer shorts and t-shirts to leotards. Her little sister, however, has just entered her own phase.

As you probably know from reading this blog, Noni is obsessed with princesses. We just returned from a trip to the park, where she proudly brought her Sleeping Beauty book from the library to show her friends. She has also recently taken to their attire.

Princess dresses aren't as easy to get around in as leotards. And when you are a two-year-old princess in Boulder, you have to be able to hike, ski, swing, trike, and even garden in your princess dress. So far, Noni seems to have managed, though we've had a few hair raising moments when her feet got caught under the dress on the ladder at the playground.

We'll see how long it lasts. A one dress obsession has its advantages. Less laundry. No drama in the morning about what to wear.

When I pause to consider why I have two daughters who have insisted on wearing the same thing over and over again for long periods of time, I shouldn't be surprised. Our family seems to gravitate toward wearing a uniform. I pretty much wore the same fleece, t-shirt, jeans and Uggs every day all winter. And when we lived in Los Angeles, Toby's officemates noticed that he wore the same thing so often that they decided to dress up as him on Halloween. He had no idea they would be doing that. And yet, he showed up at work that day in his predictable attire:

It would've been so much funnier if his uniform had been a leotard or princess dress.

Beware: Entering The No Nap Zone

2010-04-14T15:05:00.001-07:00

As I write this, Noni is jumping up and down and crying and screaming. It's loud. She is upset about the state of her blanket on the floor. You might think that a better mom would get off the computer and help, but believe me, I tried. Does she want it wrapped around her? "NOT LIKE THAT!" Or on the floor with a pillow? "NOT LIKE THAT!" Or draped on the couch for a fort? "NOT LIKE THAT!" You see, it's really not about the blanket. It's about her afternoon nap. Which she has stopped taking.

That's right, we're in the dreaded No Nap Adjustment Zone these days.

Anyone with a child over four years old knows the story. First, you have a little baby who naps all the time. Then she switches to two naps a day. Then it's down to one. And now? It's not that she won't nap at all. It's just that no matter how much reading or snuggling or driving the car around the block we do, she won't nap until at least 4 o'clock. And if she naps then, she's up until 10 o'clock. Which is at least two hours past the time when all children should be tucked in bed and all parents should be enjoying a glass of wine, reading a book, participating in adult conversation or at least zoning out in front of the television. And so, the nap has been axed and the monstrous afternoons have begun.

The monstrous afternoons were tough enough when Evie went through them, but with the third child, the task of keeping her awake from 4:00 - 7:00 PM has added challenges. Like the fact that at 4:00 PM we are usually in the car, driving to soccer practice or piano lessons. Our afternoon car rides now entail playing the princess CD at full blast (If you can DREEEEAAAM...) and singing at the top of our lungs to keep Noni awake. Thank you Disney Princesses because, while headache-inducing, it seems to be working so far.

I imagine in a couple of months, Noni will have adjusted and, aside from Toby's Saturday afternoon naps, we will be a nap-free family. I already miss snuggling up with her in bed and reading to her until she sighs, snuggles closer and falls asleep. But the monstrous afternoons? I'm pretty sure I'll be just fine leaving those behind.

Evie's Smile

2010-04-05T19:17:00.000-07:00

When I complain that I haven't had a very productive day, my mom will respond to me, "Well, the girls grew up a little bit today." And it's true. My job right now is to raise them and every day they get a little bit older... and hopefully I help them to grow a little bit wiser too. In the frenzy of laundry and meals and soccer practices and homework, weeks and sometimes even months can go by where I don't notice that time has passed and the girls are growing up. Then something happens with one of them -- a first word, a lost tooth, a swim across the pool, a new haircut -- and it hits me that the snuggly, toothless and clueless baby that I brought home from the hospital is long gone.

I had a moment like that with Evie today. I picked her up from school early and dropped her off at the orthodontist's. An hour and a half later, Lucy, Noni and I picked up an Evie with a whole new smile. She was still wearing pigtails. Also? She still jumps up and down when she's excited about something and she still believes in the Easter Bunny. And yet...

This is still Evie to me.

Only now, she looks like this!

Best Book Series For New Readers

2010-04-02T11:06:00.000-07:00

Recently, Lucy has caught the reading bug. I love that stage when kids transition from struggling with each word to actually reading. All of a sudden it becomes fun. She no longer wants me to read to her at night -- instead she wants to read to me.

She has been learning in school all year, but I have to attribute her sudden interest in reading to a great series that we recently discovered. My mom picked her up the first two at Barnes & Noble a couple weeks ago and we have since bought two more packs of books. The author, an elementary school teacher and mother, understands both the importance of making reading fun. The humorous illustrations and story lines have Lucy hooked. If you have an emerging reader, I strongly suggest this series!

The Beach

2010-03-31T17:47:00.000-07:00

One of the things I've missed most about California is the beach. I don't know how many times we battled the congested highway to get from Studio City to Malibu, but every time we did, I felt like the city just melted away. You pretty much can't beat Malibu for beauty. Every time we went to Point Dume, we would head to the cliff that served as a backdrop for the white sand beach and walk up the path lined with bright flowers, the Pacific ocean on one side and Santa Monica Mountains on the other. We would stand at the top of the cliff, listening to the wind and the seals below. It amazed me every time.

We just got back from a wonderful week in Florida, visiting friends and family in Surfside, South Palm Beach and Del Ray. While the views from the beaches of eastern Florida don't hold a candle to the views in Malibu, I was surprised to discover that they offer something even better for a mom with three young kids: no surf. In Malibu, the water was a surfer's dream and a parent's nightmare. As much as I loved our trips to the beach, I could never fully relax, imagining that the girls would be dragged out to sea in waves too big for me to battle. But in Florida, the clear blue water was as calm as a lake. The girls walked out until the water was chest deep, swimming and splashing each other. They loved it.

We spent one Saturday of our trip on the beach in Surfside, where our friends Diana and Damien live. Joey, Karima, Diana and I set up a spot on the sand and sat, discussing everything from education to Fox News to healthcare (okay, and Sandra Bullock, Heidi Montag, the guy from Friday Night Lights, and numerous other People Magazine-worthy topics) while the girls and their friends played in the water and sand. I rarely got up all day, except to occasionally wipe sand out of someone's eye or grab an extra snack out of the cooler. I loved that I could truly catch up with my friends while the girls safely entertained themselves all day.

In Colorado, we've traded the beach for some pretty wonderful mountains and national forests. We have a reservoir and lots of pools for the girls to swim in this summer. However, I'm feeling grateful for Southwest miles. I'm already looking forward to spending next year's spring break back in Florida at the beach.

Cinderella Feeling Blue

2010-03-31T16:05:00.001-07:00

This afternoon, Evie and Lucy began working on an ocean mural for Evie's science project:

And Nonie began working on a project of her own:

Skiing with the Cousins

2010-03-23T06:32:00.000-07:00

We just got back from two sunny spring ski days in Beaver Creek with Toby's brother and his family. I love getting the girls together with their cousins. Whether they are making Michael Jackson videos with Hannah and Addis or skiing down the slopes in a pack with Jack, Patrick and Emilia, the girls always have a great time. We are so fortunate to have cousins their age on both sides.

Their cousins are slightly better skiers than Evie and Lucy, who spent the two days at Beaver Creek trying to keep up. I had a few near heart attacks watching Lucy bomb straight down the mountain, but after a day of Toby and me yelling, "TURN! TURN! NOW!", she gained more control. Evie skied three black diamonds. Lucy skied one, which would have probably gone well if she hadn't attempted it at 3:30 in the afternoon after skiing since 9 a.m (she had already proved herself pretty fearless). With tired, shaking legs, she worked her way down the trail as I coaxed her down. She and I learned just how long it is from the top to the bottom of Beaver Creek. I have to say I'm really proud of the girls. When we first strapped on skis on the bunny slope at Eldora in December, I never imagined they'd be cruising around Beaver Creek by the end of the year.

Noni was a little out of her league and stayed at the bottom part of the mountain on the green runs. Her favorite part of skiing was probably the princess ski helmet cover that Yalin bought for her. From the other end of the harness, I listened to her spend every ski run down debating whether she should be skiing Snow White or skiing Cinderella.

After skiing, the cousins all enjoyed some apres ski at the pool. (I love the tagline for Beaver Creek: "Not Exactly Roughing It")

As always, it was great to get together. Thanks Sean, Yalin, Jack, Patrick and Emilia for a great trip!

Gardening in North Carolina

2010-03-23T06:24:00.001-07:00

My sister just started a gardening blog. I would write about how she inherited a green thumb gene while I clearly did not but, while that's probably somewhat true, it would undermine all the hard work that goes into gardening. Still, I can't help but think of the one plant Toby and I had in Glover Park. A friend of his at work had the same one and, when he told her that we had the same kind of plant at home, she said, "The best thing about it is that it's impossible to kill it." Of course ours died. I still have a modest dream of at least having nice flowers in front of our house. Maybe this year will be the year.

For all you gardeners or aspiring gardeners out there, check out her blog:

http://www.molliesgarden.blogspot.com/

Where The Wild Things Are: The Movie

2010-03-13T06:16:00.000-08:00

The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind

and another

I'm pretty sure everyone in our family can recite Where The Wild Things Are from cover to cover. Each girl has gone through about a year-long period where she wanted to read nothing but Maurice Sendak's popular book. Normally, that would drive me crazy, but Where The Wild Things Are is brilliant. I love the poetry of his words, the humor in the pictures, and the way Noni shows her "terrible claws" whenever I read that line.

When I found out that the movie was being written by Dave Eggers (What is the What) and Spike Jonze (Being John Malkovich, Adaptation), I knew it had to be good. Last night, I finally sat down with the girls and watched it.

From the first scene, Jonze and Eggers capture the feel of the book precisely, which means that it is wild, scary, angry and sweet. I love that they made it that way and didn't try to Disneyfy such a powerful book, but it probably shouldn't be shown at a six-year-old's birthday party.

Of course, they had to add some more to the plot of the short picture book to make a full-length movie. Max now lives with his divorced mother and disinterested teenage sister, and is frustrated that his family has fallen apart and no one else seems to care. When, after biting his mother, he runs away and arrives on the shore of The Wild Things, he finds that their family struggles to stay loving toward each other as well. Carol, the monster with the horns and reddish nose, plays the role of Max in his world, worrying about the discord of his friends and family. At one point he and Max discuss a model world that Carol made:

Max: Did you make this?
Carol: Yeah, yeah.
Max: It's very good.
Carol: We were gonna make a whole world like this. Now, everyone used to come here, but you know... you know what it feels like when all your teeth are falling out really slowly and you don't realize and then you notice that, well, they're really far apart. And then one day... you don't have any teeth anymore.
Max: Yeah.
Carol: Well it was like that.

Kids movies don't often address divorce, loneliness, mortality, anger and sadness, but Where The Wild Things Are addresses them all and does it well. I remember reading an interview with Sendak where he talked about how the publisher wanted him to change the end of the book to read that Max's supper was "still warm". Sendak refused and the lines "and it was still hot" remain. The movie, like the book, doesn't cool things down to suit all audiences. But, snuggled together on our couch with Noni's stuffed Max and stuffed Wild Thing, Evie, Lucy, Noni and I all gave it a thumbs up.

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Rash

2010-03-12T06:31:00.000-08:00

A couple weeks ago, I put Noni to bed in a fleece nightgown and she woke up covered from head-to-toe in a rash. I figured it was heat rash, put the nightgown in the Goodwill pile, and changed her into cotton sweatpants and a t-shirt. The next night, the rash was still there and she was itching fiercely. I looked up hives, decided that she must be allergic to something, and tried Benadryl. It did absolutely nothing.

Toby, Noni and I spent the next five nights completely miserable. But I was like Pam in the Office episode where her insurance allows her to stay two nights at the hospital and so she refuses to go to the hospital until midnight to have her baby. Our insurance allows us three appointments per year and then we have to pay for them. Of course this would be the year when we are hit with a dozen small ailments that require a doctor and Noni has already been three times. So Toby and I didn't sleep and poor Noni didn't sleep either because she was up all night crying and itching and at this point looking like she had measles or mumps or some dread-awful disease.

Finally I broke down and brought her to see our family doctor, who pulled up Noni's shirt and said, "Oh. My. God." That's when I decided that between Noni's rash and Lucy and Hugo's ski adventure, I probably don't need to practice my speech for the Mom Of The Year award this year. She described Noni as having "a horrific case of eczema." Then she told me to throw out the Burt's Bees and California Baby lotion because they do nothing and are full of stuff like lavender oil, which is terrible for a baby's skin. She told me to buy some Lubriderm lotion, gave Noni a prescription for topical and oral steroids and a stronger-than-Benadryl anti-itch medicine and sent us on our way.

When I posted about Noni's eczema on Facebook, I got a lot of responses. Apparently we're not the only ones dealing with a rash, although I suspect most people are talking about a patch of it here and there. My sister has dealt with eczema her whole life so I took her suggestions to heart. She said to buy a humidifier, give her lots of fish oils, replace baths with tubs, and cover her skin with lanolin.

I am happy to report that we have done all four and Noni's skin is much better. She's also a big fan of the "smoke machine" (humidifier) next to her bed at night. It's hard to fight the dry Colorado air, but spring is around the corner, and I suspect that will help too.

And so, another lesson in parenting learned: Insurance or no, it's worth making a trip to the doctor.

The Silver Vixen?

2010-03-11T15:56:00.001-08:00

There was a guy in my class at college with gray hair. Everyone wanted to hang out with "The Silver Fox" because, despite being eighteen like everyone else, he could get into any bar. No ID required. Back then, having gray hair was cool.

A few weeks ago, I discovered my first gray hair. And then my second. And third. And fourth. And fifth. In one horrifying look in the mirror with the light just so, I realized that without my knowing it, about an eighth of my hair has turned gray. It's not that I'm blind or that haven't looked in the mirror in a while. It's just that usually I get my hair highlighted and I'm due for a trip to a hairdresser. With my roots growing in, I came to this realization: I am no longer a blonde to hide mousy brown hair. I am a blonde to hide gray.

I'd love to be one of those earthy cool women who embraces her gray hair, like the woman in my yoga class with gray pigtails and startlingly blue eyes. But there's something about me that just doesn't want to have gray hair. Maybe it's because part of me still sees myself as that eighteen-year-old in college, only I can get into bars, with or without a friend with gray hair. Of course, I'm not awake anymore when most people go to a bar.

In a way, I think it might have been easier to have gone gray at eighteen like The Silver Fox. He could never really look at his gray hair as a sign of age, since it didn't appear the same year that those lifeguard squint lines decided to show up uninvited. But that's okay. I'm going to embrace my gray hair. Okay, I'm totally not. I'm going to cover it up with blonde, but I'm going to remind myself every once in a while that it's there and that, while I liked my hair color better at eighteen, I'm pretty happy with the rest of thirty-five.

The Title of This Blog Entry Is -- Oh, Wait, What Was I Saying?

2010-03-08T17:41:00.000-08:00

Poor Roger Ross Williams just can't finish a speech without getting interrupted. First he was interrupted during the Oscars, as Mike explains here, and then, given a second chance to make his speech on Larry King, he was interrupted again!

I can totally relate. Not to the Oscar part of course, but getting interrupted? Even as I typed that last sentence I stopped after the word "part" to agree with Noni that, yes, Fuzzy Baby (her doll) looks like a princess in the hat she is wearing today.

Forget trying to talk to Toby at dinner, ever. Here is a typical dinner conversation at our house:

Toby: So, how was your -

Evie: Guess what? In math today -

Lucy: We are learning about space in -

Noni: Can I have ketchup on my fish?

Me: Yes, here's the ketchup. It was good. How was -

Lucy: Eeew, ketchup on her fish! Noni eats ketchup on every-

Noni: Well, today, at my gym school -

Evie:...we are learning about -

Lucy: Burp! [Unfortunately she has recently discovered the ability to burp at any given moment.]

Noni: Mom! Lucy burped!

...and so on.

I think this is why recently I have all but given up television (unless I'm watching Modern Family on Hulu) and gone back to just reading at night. I can't stand the interruption of commercials. I also will admit to being somewhat concerned that by the time the girls grow up and leave the house, my brain will no longer be able to function in complete thoughts, but will just start interrupting itself out of practice.

I wonder if Roger Ross Williams has kids. If so, he probably felt that all those interruptions were just par for the course.

How To Try To Write A Synopsis

2010-03-05T07:42:00.001-08:00

So now that my book is done, what to do next? I talked to my friend Christine, whose dad is an author, and she kindly put me in touch with him. The next thing I knew, I received an email from his friend asking me to send along an author's bio and synopsis. Great! Wait, what?

After a moment of panic, I looked up "author's bio" and found I only needed to write up a couple of sentences about myself. You know, listing all of the awards I've won for writing and all that. Since there are none, it was pretty easy to keep it short.

Then I looked up "synopsis". Okay, a two-page summary of my book. That's got to be easy, right? I did a little bit of research online and found out from different sources that a synopsis should be double spaced...or that it has to be single spaced. It should be four pages, but it can't be more than two pages. It should "show not tell", like all good writing does, but it should "tell, not show" since you only have two pages. Aaak! All the sites disagreed on just about everything, with the exception of three things: 1) Writing "the dreaded synopsis" sucks and 2) The first paragraph is critical in grabbing the reader's attention and 3) It's your ONLY chance to impress an agent and to get ANYONE to read your work! Basically, you could write Moby Dick, but if you don't have a great attention-grabbing synopsis, your big whale book is going straight into an agent's recycling bin.

And so, for three days now, I have been trying to write a synopsis. I've written it and rewritten it and now need to completely rewrite it again. I'm beginning to wonder, at what point is a synopsis harder to write than a novel? At any rate, I should get off of my blog and get back to the synopsis. Really, I'm just here to prove to myself that I don't have writer's block. Now, off to write that attention grabbing line!

Lucy and Hugo Take Eldora

2010-03-02T10:45:00.000-08:00

Whenever the girls do something wrong, rather than telling them they are bad, I tell them they made a bad choice. Turns out their mom makes some bad choices from time to time too, as I demonstrated quite clearly this weekend. I am even hesitant to write about it here, but I'm going with the idea that all parents make bad choices from time to time. They do, right?

On Saturday, we headed up skiing with our friends, Christine, Jasper and Hugo, who were visiting from Frederick. We lucked out with a sunny, wind-free, good-snow day at Eldora and the kids, Evie, Jasper, Lucy, Hugo and Noni, all had fun skiing together. As we went on more and more runs, Lucy, 6, and Hugo, 5, got the idea that it would be even more fun to ski independently. They began pushing Christine and telling her they wanted to go on the lift without her supervision. They even talked about trying to ski faster than the adults so they could get on the lift alone.

We couldn't help but admire their desire for independence and finally agreed to let them take a lift ride without an adult. And so, while Noni and I stayed at the bottom of the trail to watch Evie and Jasper build an insulated moss house in the woods, Christine went to take a run on her own, and Toby snuck on the lift a couple chairs behind Hugo and Lucy to meet them at the top. A little while later, Lucy and Hugo came down the mountain, with big smiles on their faces. Only they didn't stop to see us, but instead skied straight toward the lift and got in line again.

At this point, Toby also wanted to take one run on his own and so he and I decided that he would follow them up the lift, but then veer off so he could get to a lift that would take him further up the mountain. And Lucy and Hugo would ski down the trail on their own. This seemed like a perfectly reasonable plan until they got on the lift and then suddenly it really, really didn't.

I watched them head further and further up the mountain, swinging precariously above the trees on the chairlift, and all sorts of horrible images flashed through my head. After numerous images of bloody noses and broken bones, my brain settled on the recurring image of Christine, who hadn't given me permission to send her five-year-old down a ski trail on his own, returning before Lucy and Hugo did.

I stood, holding Noni, at the bottom of the trail and waited. And waited. And as I waited, it occurred to me that there are numerous trails to take from the lift and that some of the trails lead to different chair lifts. I stood with this thought for what seemed like eternity. Just as I was about to start hyperventilating, I spotted Lucy in her lime green snow pants heading my way, with Hugo right behind her.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief and wanted to hug them both. Before I could, out of nowhere, like some cartoon superhero, a ski patrol appeared behind them.

"Excuse me ma'am, but are you Lucy and Hugo's mom?"

I took a deep breath. And replied, "Are you kidding me? I am a mature, responsible adult. I would never dream of letting two little kids take to the slopes by themselves. I mean, there are out-of-control skiers up there! Of course I am not their mom and I hope you arrest her when you find her!"

Except actually I said something like, "Yes," in a very small whispering voice.

He proceeded to tell me that, while there are no laws on the minimum age of independent skiers (phew, at least I wasn't going to jail), Hugo and Lucy seemed awfully young to be on the trail alone. And I told him that I couldn't agree more and, don't worry, I'd already thought through all of the awful possibilities. He smiled and then disappeared in much the same way as he had arrived.

A minute later, Christine arrived. Fortunately I got to tell her the "all's well that ends well" story after it had already ended well. I had made a bad choice, but Lucy and Hugo had fortunately made some good choices and gotten themselves down the trail just fine. They left Eldora that day having grown a little, feeling a little more independent than they had that morning. I left having grown a little too, knowing that from now on I will listen more closely to my instincts, and feeling extremely thankful that we drove down the mountain with Lucy and Hugo chatting away happily in the back seat.

On Lightning Bolts and Books

2010-02-20T12:13:00.000-08:00

Those who don't believe in magic will never find it - Roald Dahl

As I type this entry, the printer is busy printing out the official first draft of my first novel. Or the official final draft, I suppose. It depends what happens from here.

I wrote in an earlier post (read here) that I started writing a novel when my friend Tara challenged me to participate in NaNoWriMo. I would never have even considered trying it at this stage of my life without her prompting. As it turns out, I am so glad that I did.

It was hard to find the time, yes, but unlike painting or charcoal drawing (which I have desperately tried but pretty much failed to make time for over the past couple of years), I could sit at the computer when I had half an hour and start and stop without any set up or clean up time. And, unlike painting, which requires standing in front of a canvas with a paintbrush in hand, I could also progress with my story by creating chapters in my head at the gym, on a run, or as I folded laundry. It was nice to think of matching socks as a worthy part of a creative process.

As for my book, I'm not sure exactly where I'm going with it from here. So far, three very unbiased editors have read and loved my book. (Okay, my mom, my husband and my eight-year-old daughter.) I am optimistic but realistic about my chances for actually getting it published. But whether I end up self-publishing or getting it officially published, I feel confident that something will work out.

After my mom and I wrote Cecily Cicada, I wasn't sure if I'd ever write a book again. The idea for Cecily Cicada hit me like a lightning bolt and my mom immediately convinced me that it would be a success. After that, no lightning struck and I eventually considered that none might ever strike again. This time, Tara basically forced me to create my own lightning bolt. I headed out for a run after getting her NaNoWriMo challenge email and knew I had to come home with a plot for a book. On that run, I realized that the magic of an idea was always there, I just had to go after it, rather than waiting for it to strike.

I've also come to realize that I need to write. I love the process of creating a world outside my own and diving into it, getting to know the characters along the way. And I am ultimately happier in my own world when I've given myself time to explore that creative process.

And so, while there's still a lot to do if I want to get my book out to the public, for now the writing process is coming to an end. I'm ready to start another one. Instead of waiting this time, I think I'll just head out for another run.

Kids' Books That You'll Love Too

2010-02-19T12:22:00.000-08:00

The girls love nothing more than a trip to the library. There's something magical about all of the possibilities there. They can spend hours making their selections, while I endure several heart-attacks racing around trying to find Noni behind the shelves. Then, after I pay off our bazillion dollars in late fees, they come home with their arms full of new books and disappear into their room with their new loot.

Since by now I know every single word of Where The Wild Things Are and Moo Baa La La La by heart, I always enjoy reading Lucy and Noni something new. My favorite books seem to be the ones that make me either laugh out loud or cry. We just got some good ones at the library this week so I thought I'd share some of my favorite kid books below. What are yours?

Seriously Funny:

The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales by Scieszka and Lane Smith

Skippy Jon Jones by Judy Schachner

Any of the Frog and Toad books by Arnold Lobel

The Three Pigs by David Wiesner

Don't Let the Pigeon Drive The Bus by Mo Willems

Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney (for older kids)

Read With Tissues:

The Lorax by Dr. Seuss

Tell Me Again About The Night I Was Born by Jaime Lee Curtis (I love all her books)

The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein

And Just Because He's Brilliant:

In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak

Rookie Parenting Move

2010-02-16T17:01:00.001-08:00

I've learned a few things in my eight and a half years of parenting. For example...

- Don't leave permanent markers anywhere within reach. (And by "within reach" I mean able to be reached with a chair, a pile of blocks and tip-toes.)

- Don't let juice boxes, and especially kids with juice boxes, anywhere near your computer.

- Don't think that giving your kid a big pile of stickers to make a car ride easier is actually going to make your life easier. You definitely won't think so when you're still scraping stickers off the mini-van windows years later.

- And then, of course, there's the totally obvious parenting rule: Never, ever buy character Band-Aids. Because you know what? If your kid is hurt, a flesh colored Band-Aid and a kiss will do just fine. And the character ones? Will be gone.

Look at me Mom!

What? Oh, yeah, of course it's the whole box.

Toby's tagline for this photo: Busted but totally unrepentant

Getting Techy

2010-02-06T08:32:00.001-08:00

So my in-house tech support (husband) has added a new feature to my blog. If you enter your email address in the right hand corner, you can get these blog entries right in your inbox! It's free! It's fun! It's new! Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know about it.

Throw Up and Motherhood

2010-02-02T11:11:00.000-08:00

Motherhood has a very humanizing effect. Everything gets reduced to essentials. ~Meryl Streep

This winter I signed up for a Nia class on Tuesday mornings at my gym. A friend had originally recommended it to me, insisting I try a class at her gym (as I wrote here). I enjoyed it so much that I decided to make it part of my weekly exercise routine.

Unfortunately, in a brilliant oversight by the gym, the class starts at 8:30 and the gym childcare starts at 8:45. Rather than decide not to take the class, I begged the dance teacher to let Noni sit in and watch the class for the first fifteen minutes each week. She agreed that it wasn't a problem as long as Noni was quiet. And for the first class she was as quiet as could be until the fifteen minutes passed and then, not wanting to leave, she started screaming "NOOOO!" when I tried to take her to the childcare. Since she had spent the first fifteen minutes sitting so quietly and playing with her mini Disney princesses, I figured it shouldn't be a problem just to keep her there for the next hour. I asked the teacher at the end of the class if that would be alright in the future as well. I am pretty sure that she had to fight some serious urges not to roll her eyes, but she's very hippie and polite and I think it runs against her nature to set rules in her class. And so, every Tuesday I head to Nia and Noni and her princesses come with me. The princesses dance quietly on Noni's lap while the rest of the class dances out on the floor.

It was all going pretty well until today. It started out as usual - with Noni and her princesses hanging out in the back of the room. But then, right at the end of the class, Noni said in a really loud voice, "My belly hurts!" I took one look at her with her hand on her mouth and immediately ran over. And then she threw up. And then she threw up again. And again. All over. All over the princesses, her backpack, her dress, her shoes, my coat, her hands, my hands, and, of course, the dance class floor.

At that moment, my heart went out to Noni for being sick, but I'll admit that I also shrank in horror at what everyone in the room must be thinking. I imagined the whole class gasping in disgust and running out of the room. Instead, within seconds I found myself surrounded by five different women, all of them handing me paper towels and one of them even helping to wipe up the floor. Each one of them told me not to worry, of course kids can get sick anywhere, and began to console Noni in soothing voices.

As they stooped to help me, I felt an immediate great love for all of the other moms out there. Because at that moment I realized that there is not a single mom in the world who doesn't look at a two-year-old throwing up in a dance class and think, "I have been there" and feel a great sympathy for both the child and her mother. And so I thanked them for their help and cleaned Noni up as quickly as I could. Then I left the class, smelling of throw up but feeling truly grateful for the connection between mothers all over the world.

Princess Leia

2010-02-02T10:30:00.000-08:00

This morning Lucy tried to convince Noni that she should watch Star Wars with her and Evie tonight. Her reasoning? "Noni, there's even a princess in it! Princess Leia. She's just like Snow White...only with a gun!"

Hmm, a new twist on the Disney Princess...

Grocery Shopping With Jonathan Safran Foer

2010-01-26T14:05:00.000-08:00

I have always considered myself to be pretty aware as far as food shoppers go. I have a sister who talked to me about organic food and the practices of factory farming long before the topics were explored in popular best-selling books and movies. And then I read the popular best-selling books, like Omnivore's Dilemma and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and watched the movies, like Food, Inc. and Super Size Me and I changed my shopping habits to accommodate my new knowledge. We started ordering our milk from local farms (South Mountain Creamery in Maryland and Longmont Dairy in Colorado), buying only meat marked "free range" and "hormone free", and shopping "organic" whenever possible. And so, we spend a gazillion dollars on groceries each year, but I felt pretty good about my food choices.

And then I read Eating Animals by Jonathon Safran Foer. I didn't even really want to read the book. I knew it would be disturbing. But I loved Everything is Illuminated and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and I couldn't resist reading a third book by an author I love. And, sure enough, it was really disturbing. I knew quite a bit about factory farms before reading the book, but I learned quite a few new inconvenient facts. For example, I didn't realize that for every 1 pound of shrimp caught, 26 pounds of other sea animals were killed and tossed back into the ocean. Or that the male offspring of chickens that are raised to lay eggs ("layers") are sucked through a series of pipes onto an electrified plate. Or that the 3 million pounds of antibiotics given to humans each year in the U.S. is nothing compared to the 24.6 million pounds of antibiotics fed to farmed animals each year (which has numerous effects on our health and on the environment). And I won't even get into the chapter on slaughterhouses.

Foer spends a lot of time driving home the point that we live in a hypocritical society. We seek out shampoos that aren't tested by animals, while at the same time buy "meat that's produced in profoundly cruel systems." We pamper our dogs, but then eat pigs (which are markedly more intelligent) who have been raised in torturous environments. It's easy for us to do because our food comes to us in shiny wrapping, looking nothing like the animal that gave its life to be put on our plate. He never once talks about eating "meat" in the book, but instead uses the word "animals", reminding us not to be fooled by that plastic wrapping. It reminded me of an ex-boyfriend's dad who, as an ENT, used to refer to the "nose" or "ear" he had operated on that afternoon. His wife would constantly remind him, "You operated on a person and the person had a nose."

A friend recently mentioned that she had seen Foer on television and that he was so annoying that it made her want to go out and eat a hamburger. It made me laugh because I could see where she was coming from. He can be preachy from time to time in the book too. At points in the book, I wanted to interrupt and him to say, "Hey, Jonathan, before you look down your vegan nose too far at all the factory farmed food eaters out there, the book you wrote wasn't printed on recycled paper. And you probably wrote it on a computer, which means your computer one day will end up in one of those horribly polluted towns in China where they "recycle" all of our computers. And all the flights you took to visit the farms? Yeah, it's not just the factory farms causing global warming. Oh, and are you naked right now? Because unless you have a field of hemp and a loom in your Brooklyn apartment, chances are that the clothing you're wearing came from a less than favorable situation. And I think vegetarians and meat-eaters alike can agree that the idea of an eight-year-old child working a 12 hour day in a dark factory is significantly more disturbing than chickens living in tiny cages. No offense, but I'm just saying..." The thing is, none of that takes away from the facts he lays out in his book. But it is just a reminder that all of us make choices - and I don't know anyone who doesn't make some that impact the world in a negative way - so none of us should be patting ourselves on the back too hard.

Still, none of us should be burying our heads in the sand either. I feel the same way after reading Eating Animals that I felt after reading Deep Economy or seeing The Story of Stuff [It's worth checking out if you haven't seen it: http://www.storyofstuff.com/]. In both cases, I knew that I would never go back to the same way of thinking again and because of that, I have made and continue to make different choices than I made before. Of course, knowledge can be disturbing, but it is also empowering. I'll admit that knowing more about what I see at the grocery store doesn't mean I always make the right choices for the world, but I can weigh the pros and cons when I make my selections. I haven't eaten meat since reading the book, but I'm not sure I see myself cutting it out entirely in the future. (While Foer himself is vegan, his book is more of a stance against factory farming than simply against meat, as he describes in an interview here. The problem is that at this point 95% of the meat in the U.S. is raised on factory farms.) However, if I do chose to eat meat, Eating Animals has made me more committed than ever to finding out exactly where it comes from.