New adventure

It’s been a year since I’ve written.  I guess we’ve been busy, but I think also I’ve felt inclined to be intentionally a bit more private lately.  With the world spinning into a black hole, it’s felt natural to want to pull my family under a blanket— Away from social media, away from flashing lights; diving deep into the sanctuary of our home.
But we are about to embark on a great adventure, and I want to record it.  
So here we are, on the blog again.  

There are so many things on my list.  Everyone needs good walking shoes.  Everyone needs a good coat.  I have to figure out the cat, the hamster, the mail, the phones, schoolwork, dentist appointments, eye appointments.....it goes on and on.  Bird by bird, every day, another task done, another breath closer to Rome.  

Summer 2017

The summer of 2017--
When I covered a piano with an octopus and fish and bunnies.   And we all went to visit it in the park.  And then--
The next day we brought a hamster home in a tiny cardboard box.  We named her Pop Tart.  We fed her seeds.  My children fell in love.

Meanwhile Canada caught on fire.  We left Seattle, drove south, and didn't come out of the smoke until somewhere south of Portland.  We saw the redwoods on that trip.  We made our way back home on roads through my childhood; places of happy moments; and I wonder, did they notice that I'd grown?   I remember so well that earthy red from when I was a child there.   The color of the sun translated through the forest-fog.  The color of the bark and the soil.  Brown and red.  Going on and going up into the sky forever.  I see that color smiling at me mischievously, unexpectedly in other places in my life.  It's the color of my older daughter's hair in the shade and her eyes staring into the light.  Chestnut.  Sienna.
And where the forest thins in the brightest moments of the day, the strings of redwood bark blaze like fire and oranges.  Now I see my Eloise.
In those trees I am a child and a mother all at once, and there is only peace.  

But it was in the pine forests, later, in August, where we stood and watched through black and foiled lenses, the complete eclipse of the sun.  The scene composed of dust, scrub bush, ponderosa pines, and cypress.  Not quite mountains, but larger than hills.  This is the home of horses and labradors.  
The children held their glasses mounted in paper plates up to their faces.  They ate raisins.  We all waited.  First the sun became a cheese with a bite.  Everything dimmed.  The temperature plummeted.  Then, finally, darkness.  The sun is a hole in the sky, surrounded by diamonds.    We could see the shadow from miles away, blanketing the mountains, coming toward us; a magicians cape breezing over top of us.  A wave of black silk.   It was dusk in the middle of the day for roughly 40 seconds.  A planet shone, the birds went silent.
And then it was done.  

Also this summer-- My older daughter went to day camp.  She made a lanyard.  My younger daughter discovered the joys of glitter glue and produced an astonishing amount of art-sculpture.  
I neglected all of my plants.  We missed the exhibit at the art museum, but we filled the kiddie pool with rainbow bouncy-house balls, and as I stuck my feet into them I thought, this very well could go on forever.  This could be infinity, although I know it can't, not really.  Because August is the last laugh of summer.  

Finally, almost as a postscript, Tyler and I managed to sneak away for four days to celebrate our 10th anniversary.   We remembered what it's like to explore a city by scooter, and stay out late sampling oysters with a whiskey fizz.  We remembered.
And then we came home and soaked in the sleepy sweet smell of our girls' cheeks.
Tomorrow is the start of school.  Tomorrow we will find our routine again.
But tonight is one more game of checkers.    

Never-ending Rain

I can’t believe how much rain we are getting this year.  You would think that I would be used to it by now, having lived in Seattle for nearly 12 years.   But the days are long when you have a toddler, and she only likes to wear her tutu and nothing else, and doesn’t want to go outside because her tutu might get wet.  

We listen to the soundtrack of Oklahoma at least twice a day.   She builds beds out of cardboard boxes for her stuffed bunnies.  We eat cheese.  

Still, the rain continues.  

Reflection on life and death and life.

It’s weird when someone close to you dies.  I don’t really know what it is I believe in, but I find myself looking up to the sky and thinking if only I could see far enough, there you would be.  Or if only I could see close enough, to see all the little bits and pieces that make up the space between the air and sunshine, there you would be.  

But then i’m looking at the grass, watering my plants, and I see a cricket, a lucky spark, a green in the green, and I think of you.  I think maybe you aren’t in the sky.  Maybe you are so much closer than that.  Maybe you are every where, we just can’t see you so well anymore.  But if we pay attention, your sparks are still there.  Because if I can still hear your laugh in my head and remember exactly what it felt like to sit next to you on a picnic bench, with your sweatshirt on, your shoulders tall and friendly against mine— then are you really gone?  

Those we love and lose live on within us forever.  It's a truth.  

I wonder how you are experiencing the world now.  What marvelous winds are you traveling on.  Maybe you are the wind itself.  You can leave all the earthly details to us-- I'll fully take on the responsibility of loving orange cats, and the color purple, and potato salad.  Someone else will have to take on your love for Earl Grey Tea.  Enjoy your wings.  Enjoy your fluidity.  Enjoy the light.  

You can warm the pebbles on the beach.  I'll collect them in my pocket.  

Turning 2

Turning 2.
There's something especially special about this second child of mine turning 2--
Maybe I've realized, really really realized, that a finger snaps and time flies by. Soon she'll be sitting at the counter doing homework and wearing athletic socks.
So we're relishing-rejoicing in this moment.

I love so much this flouncy little pixie.  Her orange glowing head lighting the way; she pads through the zoo in a pink tutu dress-- because Eloise doesn't care a penny what any of us say-- she'll wear pink doggonit, and she'll wear it like a beast. And as a second time around mommy, I let her eat cake and wear pink and watch cartoons just a little more than I did the first time around.  

Happy 2, my darling 2.  You've given me the gift of a lighter heart every day of your life.  Keep doing what you do; use every shade of pink in the box, love all the bunnies everywhere, sit on the steps and eat your measuring cup of peas.  Do all these things the way you do them best.  You are Eloise, and I love you, little big 2.

  

Turning 7

7 is everything.

7 is still wanting to play with dolls and stuffies.  7 is a little scared still at the movies sometimes.  And 7 is snuggly early in the morning and at the end of a long day.  

But 7 is also so big. 

7 is reading chapter books by the boxful.  7 is helping with everything around the house.  7 is climbing so high in trees, running so fast on the soccer field, and inching up taller, taller, taller, to just below my shoulders.  7 is best friends, monkey bars, bike riding, piano playing, chess winning, skirt twirling, orange peeling, bus riding, dreaming big big BIG.
No teeth.  Adult teeth.  A freckle here and there.  Sunshine in your eyes and smile, shaggy bangs, tangles, braids.  Stocking feet and sneakers.
  

7 is a ladybug; sweet and mighty, the brightest little bug you've ever seen.  

7 is everything.  

Winter Outings with my Toddler

It's hard to complain about winter in Seattle.  There isn't really any snow.  It's relatively not that cold. But still, there is something about it-- the darkness mostly, but also the rain-- that kind of makes me just want to stay home and hibernate.   

But with a toddler, one must go out and DO (as my mother always said). 

There are actually quite a few kid-friendly places in the city where you can go when it's cold and rainy.   The Children's Museum is great, but pricey... as is the zoo, Gymboree Play and Music, and the aquarium.   But, there are quite a few cheap and easy places to go too!   

Here are some of my favorites: 

1) Library Story Time.   

Practically every day of the week one or two of the libraries around Seattle hosts a story time.  Songs, stories, egg-shakers, scarves....   toddler heaven.   

Price: free!  

2) 3rd Place Books 

Ok, this is one of my favorites.   You can sit and enjoy a coffee, (or just sit and enjoy sitting), while your kids tool around in what we like to call "the kid pit".  Basically it's just an area filled with toys that is blocked off by counters.   Me: coffee.  Toddler: trains.   Perfect!  Also, Mockingbird Books  if you are around the Green Lake area offers trains, coffee, and story time, and the Mosaic Cafe  in Wallingford, has a back room full of semi-functional toys and play equipment, with pay-as-you-can coffee at the front. 

Price: free, plus whatever coffee you purchase.      

3) Community Centers: Toddler Rooms 

These are dotted around Seattle.  Some are really awesome (the one in Laurelhurst is naturally in this gorgeous studio room with windows overlooking evergreens and Lake Washington) others feel like the places where old gymnastics mats, and broken pop pushers go to die a slow and painfully dirty death.   Pick and choose wisely; and try not to come home with Hand Foot Mouth disease. 

Price: usually $3 

  

4) QFC  at University Village  

Ok, here's the thing about this store: Double-Wide Taxi Shopping Carts.   My girls love them.   Even my almost-seven year old squeezes herself into them because being pushed around a fancy grocery store  while pretending to drive a taxi is apparently the best thing ever.   Do we need eggs?  This calls for a taxi trip!  Will we need more toothpaste eventually?   Taxi time.   Also, there is a childcare facility there which we haven't tried.... I think the kiddos have to be 2 years old to play.  Something to look forward to!   

Price: free!  (plus groceries)  

5) Petco Pet Store 

So, with my first daughter we went to the zoo on a weekly basis.   But now that we're farther away, and our lives have gotten a bit more complicated, I am sorry to say that poor little Eloise has not been to the zoo even once.   

The good news is that we live fairly close to the pet store!  And at the pet store there are mice, fish, birds.... even some kittens on occasion.   What can I say, for a toddler it's a pretty exciting trip! 

Price: free!  (plus the amount of the can of cat food that your toddler refuses to let go of).    

6) Oh screw it, we're going outdoors.  

Sometimes you just have to go out anyway.  Even though the wind is freezing.  And the rain is freezing.  And the slides are wet and freezing.  We go to Magnuson Park a lot.  Hats, boots, coats.   We throw rocks for 20 minutes, run around the trees, then pile back into the car and drive home where the bathtub is waiting for us.