We encountered a foggy chill when we went out in search of different leaves on our nature walk this afternoon. On the way home, we brainstormed the different layers of clothes we'd wear so we could stay warm on our nightly post-dinner walk. For some reason, pajamas featured heavily on this list.
So after dinner and after-dinner chores, the kids hurried downstairs to put on the promised layers. They dressed themselves while Kevin and I finished the dishes and hunting down a pair of shoes that actually fit Lucy, and they made good with the promise of pajamas.
the end of the pavement, inexplicably, in the middle of the block
We headed uphill toward the elementary school playground, finding secret paths and quiet dirt roads. I haven't quite figured out the abundance of dirt roads here, but we have them all over. When I'd scouted the neighborhood on Google streetview before our move, I thought I saw dirt roads. Kevin didn't quite believe me, but here they are: pot-holed, sandy and pretty tricky to navigate with stroller and bicycle. Luckily our nightly walks are on foot.
We made the kids run nearly the entire way to the playground and back, and did nothing to discourage the funny game of tag-playing-chimpanzees that developed. (We were a family of chimps: Lucy was Strawberry, Peter was Banana, I was Grub, Kevin was Termite, and Thomas was Carrot.) I'm not sure we helped bedtime that much, but it's good to see them out of breath and ruddy-cheeked from outdoor play, and not from 95+ heat indexes.
Mondays are for writing letters; it's mailbox Monday, and we take it seriously. A few friends receive the bulk of our love, and some of us could use a little pointers in letter writing etiquette*, but it's mostly good fun and is a major element of this year's homeschool.
*Example, from Lucy's attempted letter to Averie: "can you come to my house for my birthday and bring me some presents and I'll have a pinata and you can bring me presents and we can do pinata things."
We've found a great grove of eucalyptus trees to climb along the bay. Who needs a playground? Thomas has been perfecting his climbing technique, and even Kevin has been spotted climbing higher than my head in the branches.
Also, please admire the golden sunshine. You could do almost anything in this kind of light and it would look magical, even a toddler in his sister's bright red leotard. (And his mama's big ol' baggy eyes.)
"Popcorn movie day!" was a spontaneous addition to our new routine and probably the kids' favorite. Even Thomas was found chanting "popcorn movie day!" earlier today.
The rules are pretty simple: Kevin makes the popcorn, the kids pick a movie from the library,* and we all relax together.
It's also the only time the kids watch television. We've definitely found that the less we watch, the less they ask to watch television. While they do seem to sneak in some screen time on the early childhood computers at the library, they're still clocking well under 2 hours of screen time a week, with Thomas often choosing to wander away from the glowing screen in search of other play options.**
Now to get my screen time under control...
Oh! if you count the amount of time Lucy pretends to have a smartphone, though, her screen time is closer to 2 hours a day. I'm curious if this phone play would continue if we actually had smartphones ourselves.
*Although this probably will change to a choice from two or three movies selected by the adults.
**Though if the screen is set to Elmo or another very toddler-friendly scene, he'll stick around.
We unexpectedly had some time to fill this weekend and spent it visiting Morro Rock, the landmark which looms over the bay views we've come to love. We spotted sea lions, a family of sea otters tangled in the kelp, and enjoyed some snow cones.
Morro Rock is part of the nine sisters, a series of volcanic mountain peaks. We had just browsed a book of fantastic volcanic eruptions at the library, so Peter was very keen to see the volcano up close. Curious, and wary. He had to balance the destruction he'd just seen in vivid photographs with the trust that we'd not take him to his fiery death. Trust won out!
We didn't make it all the way to the rock, but instead was distracted away by the sea otters splashing in the channel just feet from the shore. (Other distractions: lunch and the rumor of a poop-filled women's restroom. Oh, the predictable preferences of the preschool set.)
Our day ended with a trip to the ocean side of the rock, where the kids splashed in the water and Thomas threw a full-on temper tantrum (screaming, shouting, body stiffening and bucking) when it was time to go. "No, Mommy! Beach! Beach!" It was time to go, you see, because it was closing in on Thomas's naptime, and his emotional display let us know we were five minutes too late.
As we watched the kids splash in the water, Kevin commented that, before coming to California, this beach would easily have been the most amazing beach he'd ever visited, with Morro Rock overlooking us and the mountains close by behind us. We're definitely spoiled for natural beauty.
There has been a much-welcomed return to peace in our days. The month (months?) leading up to our move were difficult for all of us, probably more than we realized at the time. If you'd asked me at the time, I would have assured you with all sincerity that I was not feeling stressed. The evidence suggested otherwise, however: frayed nerves, lack of patience, and a singular distraction away from my primary duties as House Manager and Nurturer in Chief.
But now? We've exhaled the breath we've held for so long, and it feels good to breathe again.
Certainly the space and light of our new home helps. It's not the utilitarian box we'd inhabited for the past three years. Please don't misunderstand me: our previous home was great, but not for living. We loved the commute, the woods as our backyard, and the ease of playing with our neighbors.
Also helping: the patience and time of two parents who no longer are distracted with the busy-ness of packing and planning and mourning the losses in moving.
A solid week of a good routine also helps, too: nutritious meals, well-timed snacks, good sleep all do miracles when it comes to the attitudes of anyone. We've also had the chance to make some revisions to our previous routines, all for the best: mama baths, dinnertime music, bedtime candles, meal schedules.
We still have so much to figure out, not least of which is what homeschool will look like for the fall, new friends for the kids, and scheduling a new round of doctor and specialist appointments. Despite the tasks on our to-do list, it feels peaceful and easy.
We've ventured out on a few evening walks, a habit we hope to continue. It pushes back bedtime a bit, but everyone's so much happier for it. Everything looks a little magical in the pre-sunset golden light.
The destination doesn't matter, because it's lovely all around. It's the act of getting out, exploring together, and having a little more family time. Often, our family time is caught up in "adventuring," which is great fun and we all enjoy it, but we also enjoy the quiet moments of being - all five of us - together.
cave exploring; Lucy and I make cranky faces
According to our GPS, the beach at Montana de Oro State Park is just nine minutes from our house. It's much, much closer than the closest Target or similarly apportioned big-box store. We like this life.*
we wore boots to keep our feet dry,
but that doesn't work if you go knee-deep in the ocean;
also, Thomas's boots are at least five sizes too big,
but he insisted on wearing them
We visited yesterday, before Kevin officially started work.** We collected tiny treasures on the beach, enjoyed looking for wildlife in the tidepools, and went swimming.
Oh, this swimming business. Really? The icy cold water with the ferocious undertow on a cool, cloudy morning? Yes, yes, and in the case of the smallest Davis-Ross, YES!
As a passerby pointed out, "they're not afraid of the water." Perhaps they should be, though. Or at least afraid of the back-of-the-car wet-and-sandy change of clothes that's required.
*Or, I should say, we'd like it a lot more once we finally figure out what we need. We ran out of almost everything just before we moved. (Great timing, right?) So, we keep stumbling upon items that we need, and kind of critically. Toothpaste? Toilet paper? Oatmeal? It seems like being more organized (having a master list? making an inventory?) would be a better solution to this problem, but I won't point fingers if you don't.
**I'm not really sure if this is true or not, but I do know he went to the office today.
With our newly established Internet connection, I'll be able to update more regularly. Now, we're finding our feet and trying to figure out just what our days hold for us. Oh, and balancing our desire to explore with the pressing needs of setting up our new life: visits from the plumber, trips to the DMV, a few home repairs, and several trips to the supermarket.
Kevin returned our rental car to LA and took the train back, which meant we got to pick him up at the train station. Fun! Except for the delayed-train-near-dinnertime part. Healthy-ish snacks from a local bakery seemed to help, and I'm pretty sure I'll never forget Thomas's look of dumbfounded joy at the arriving Amtrak.
We've already put this bad boy to good use, knocking out the summer reading club in a weekend. We probably could visit the library every single day.
This is the boardwalk at our local nature preserve, where Lucy has decided she's the fastest girl in the world.
For about four days, we thought there was a stray black cat roaming our street. Peter named her Yellow-Eyed Susan, and we all thought it was hilarious when she walked right into our house. It turns out, Yellow-Eyed Susan is our neighbor's cat. It's lucky, too, because these children came about two weeks away from adopting a stray.
Water!
Fancying up our garden with some fairy houses.
Lots of cooking and baking in our new kitchen. "I love our dishwasher, just like Grammy and Poppy have!" Lucy has said more than once.
silly breakfasts + dress-ups
There is a huge patch of wild blackberries at the end of our street. We've enjoyed a few with each visit past the canes, but unfortunately for us they are very thorny.
We headed to the end of the street (and down a block) to find the bay! The water was a bit mucky for the kids to go in - and you know the water's bad when even these children think it might not be a good idea! - but we have enjoyed looking out at Morro Bay on our nightly post-dinner walks.
P.S. We're going to park our boat here, when we get one. Also, this is at most a five-minute walk from our house. Five minutes for Lucy, mind you.
And, we found a new tree swing! It doesn't compare to the swing on campus, but few would. Also, Lucy picked a cattail to be her fairy wand. She stared to wave it and nearly had a seizure of happiness when she saw the seeds fly away. "FAIRY DUST! MY WAND MAKES FAIRY DUST!"
Here are our first views of our new home. It's since been filled with the contents of oh-so-many corrugated boxes. Why did I think labeling 30 percent of our boxes "random bits and other miscellaneous stuff" a good idea?
(In truth, these boxes really are full of random bits and miscellaneous stuff. Still.)
Our home is pretty much perfect for us, which is to say it's the space we need without the frills. No updated kitchens for us, but we do have room for all of us inside said kitchen! It's a huge improvement. I've cooked a meal and it really makes a huge difference, this space.
We have more closets than we know what to do with, and a garage to boot. We turned the kids' walk-in closet into a clubhouse and have been filling the garage to the gills. Boxes? Garage! Christmas decorations? Garage! Weirdly-sized wastebin? Garage!
It's fun to find out the quirks of a new place, such as the fact that the hot/cold water is flipped on the downstairs sink, or that the radiant heat from the East-facing windows heat the kitchen and bedrooms to a toasty temperature - for free! We found a raised bed waiting for our greens to be planted, and discovered that we don't really have soil but rather sand. Sand! Our backyard is, in some ways, one giant sandbox.
The reason we moved here, was, of course, not the house. It was the promise of living so close to the water. The morning fog and sea air and the short walk to the bay itself lives up to our hopes. We found the proper entrance to the nature preserve at the end of our street and enjoyed watching birds, spotting turtles, and climbing eucalyptus trees.
The mornings are cold and foggy and the evenings are cold and foggy. There will be a time when this grows tiresome. "Just give us some sun!" we'll scream in frustration. Then - if that day comes - we'll drive 10 miles inland for some reasonably instant gratification.
The promise of "nature beaches" was a huge draw in moving to Coastal California. Even though we visited at high tide (the opposite of excellent tidepooling timing), we were able to discover a few creatures, toss many rocks, build dams and seaweed salad, and - you know it - run naked in the ocean.
This is a picture of Lucy and Thomas playing outside the hospital while Peter was having his head put back together. I have a picture of the head, too, because Peter wanted to see what his staples looked like, but I'm not going to post it. You're welcome.
The kids and Kevin were playing silly games on our last morning at the hotel when I overheard:
(loud thud)
Peter: Ouch! My head!
Kevin: Are you all right, Peter?
(pause)
Kevin: OH MY GOD, AMY COME HERE.
There's really no font to convey "scared parent," so let's pretend all caps works. The scene was what you'd imagine: blood and blood and more blood. I grabbed a hotel washcloth and swooped the younger children away to be distracted by the hotel television.* Peter cried - not from his injury, but because his siblings were watching television - so on went his television, too.
Luckily, Kevin had already checked out and we'd already packed our bags. I threw the rest of our belongings in bags as Kevin identified the nature of Peter's headwound. We bolted the hotel for the closest ER.
The doctors opted to staple his head rather than shave his lovely locks and stitch him up. It's a good thing, too, because Peter was really afraid of the idea of stitches. "I don't want them to sew me!" I have to feel that being stapled is worse, but it's not my head.
We took this opportunity to proclaim a new FDR rule: visits to the ER mean a trip to the ice cream shop. You know you're a big family when the outsized "eat it with a few friends!" sundae is cheaper than outfitting your family with scoops. We visited a great local shop in Arroyo Grande, complete with a model train running along the ceiling.
*It was the first time we'd turned it on during our stay, and after the fact Lucy asked, "did you know that the telvision worked?"
simple reminders we're in CA; shark sightings; wave jumpers
Hitting the beach on our first full day in California was made easier by the kids EDT wake-up time. 4:30 a.m.? Not so happy to see you. Now, a few days after arrival, they've finally become accustomed to Pacific time.
We drove to the beach in Pismo Beach for some water and sand play. Neither Kevin nor I really thought the kids would play much in the water, so we didn't bring towels, or a change of clothes.
(some videos above; you may have to go directly to the blog if you can't see them)
You'd think we were new parents. Of course they played in the water, even Thomas, who was wary of the Jersey shore. (Maybe he wasn't a fan of medical waste?)
The outdoors was just what we needed after a few days of being cooped up inside, especially after 12+ hours of the constant reprimand "please don't shout/jump, we're in a hotel and there are people next to us who are sleeping."
Although I felt much less guilty about our noise when the guests next to us broke out their acoustic guitars the following night.
(photo by Ashley Grider)
By now, the kids have endured several thousand photo shoots at the hands of their mother (and aunts and grandparents - I'm not always the one behind the camera!).
On our last day in Swarthmore, our art-photographer neighbor asked if she could take some pictures of Thomas for her portfolio. She correctly sensed that asking Thomas alone would cause a few problems, so all three Davis-Ross children were invited to the shoot, and she even made sure to take a few pictures of all three kiddos as payment for our time.
Despite (or perhaps because of) their previous thousands of photo shoots, they knew just what to do for Ashley and enjoyed the process. Except, perhaps, for Thomas, whose blonde curls were what caught Ashley's eye to begin with.
I like this photo because I really tried to get the kids in decent, unstained clothes and brushed hair. This is the best we got, people. Ta-da!
After church Sunday we walked around downtown SLO and happened upon the gum alley.
It was so, so disgusting. I really cannot express how vile this was. I rank it as more disgusting than the time Peter threw up into my mouth.*
Naturally, the kids thought it was great.
*Baby spit-up. But, still: ewww.
I love everthing about this photo.
I also love what you can't see, which is the view from our strip-mall, chain-store restaurant: ocean, mountains, awesome.
so, so early
riding in Poppy's van
our airplane is here!
waiting to board
we're really doing it!
in-flight entertainment
post-flight entertainment
enjoying our stay in LA (awaiting the rental car)
driving up the coast
Really, the worst part of the trip was dealing with the carseats. Next time, we'll travel with boosters for Peter and possibly Lucy. We just couldn't physically handle the baggage and the seats and the almost two-year-old who thought running into the streets was awesome.
Oh! This is a lie. The worst part was the four-hour drive from LA to SLO. The drive was fine. The attitude of the little boy who decided that, despite being up since 3:30 a.m. EDT he didn't need a nap at any point of the day. Next stop? Meltdowntown.
We borrowed Grammy's car to tote around our family of five while our car began its trek to California. Without an iPod of books on tape and endless rounds of Laurie Berkner, the kids were without our car-drive traditions. What, no Chrysanthemum? No "Victor Vito?"
Luckily, Grammy had a few CDs that kept us occupied and happy, including the Beach Boys greatest hits. The sounds of surf rock were a great preview for our new ocean-front lifestyle, and even though I'm more of a Pet Sounds girl myself, we enjoyed several rounds of Surfin' USA.
When I dared to change the CD, a small voice called out from the back. At first, I wasn't sure what Thomas was saying - then screaming - at me. Then it occurred to me: "Beach Boys, Mama! Play Beach Boys, Mama!"
I love that kid.
(Also, we had a bakery gift certificate to use up, so cake pops at 8:30 it was!)
This is a picture of checkers, but I didn't want to interrupt the intense game of chess Peter and Kevin were playing just minutes before.
Peter decided he wanted to learn how to play chess after seeing his friends Colin, Quinn and Rhys playing on their iPads. Talk about positive peer pressure! He and Kevin picked out a chess set, Kevin quickly reviewed moving rules and strategy, and they enjoyed a few games. They left the chess and checkers set at Grammy and Poppy's house to enjoy while we were visiting New Jersey.
Fast forward several weeks, when we revisited New Jersey. Peter sat down to play, remembered how all the pieces moved, and engaged Kevin in an involved game. Kevin genuinely struggled to beat Peter (which he did, eventually). Kevin admits he's not the best chess player, but we were all impressed by Peter's capacity for spacial reasoning and gaming sense.
(1) A party, hosted by Anna, Matthew, and Sophia, where we ate ice cream, Popsicle, and drank lemonade. That's what you get when the menu's set by the 5-year-old set.
There also were many trips down the slighly-too-fast waterslide. I love the faces of the kiddos as they landed at the bottom.
(2) Our last Friday preschool playdate, at a co-op member's farm. It was a lovely venue for our last memories. Our friends gifted us a photobook full of our year's memories, complete with tear-jerking notes that I couldn't bring myself to read for many days.
(3) Our last easy Sunday dinner with Grammy, Poppy, Aunt Brey, Uncle Sean, and Maelynn. We'll miss seeing the little ones grow.
(4) Our last day in Swarthmore, complete with a car transporter and storytime and lots and lots of play with Kai and Quinten. Our neighbors treated us to pizza and ice cream and for a little while we could pretend that we weren't leaving our house for good that night.
(5) Our last hot summer days, spent in New Jersey, where we hung out by Grammy and Poppy's pool, made ourselves walk to the playground in the hot sun (only to find the equipment too hot to touch!), and our new mantra on repeat: this is why we're moving to California.
(6) Our last water ice, following our last visit with Great Grandmom Ross.
(7) And a last trip to the aquarium, where we enjoyed truly remarkable encounters with the hippos.
We delayed our move specifically so we could spend the Fourth of July here. We wanted the kids to have one last chance to race in the bike race! We invited Grammy and Poppy to come over to watch the kids race, and headed to downtown Swarthmore with decorated bikes, ready to roll.
In a not-at-all surprising turn of events, Peter was unwilling to race without Kevin running alongside him. (As Peter explained it, "I want to race but I'll miss Daddy and I love Daddy so much." So.) Kevin didn't want to invite certain bodily harm racing alongside five-year-old bikers, so Peter watched the races from the sidelines.
Lucy, though, requested "go away, Mama, I can do this by myself." She wanted to join the other 4-year-olds* on the starting line.
I knew Lucy could give a good race if motivated, so I provided the motivation she needed: a promise of a double-scoop of ice cream if she won. The novelty of a double scoop - and the thrill of competition - encouraged her to race her fastest. She quickly took the lead and won her race!
My pride in her accomplishment is disproportionate to her actual accomplishment. She was: the fastest of six four-year-olds riding her bike in Swarthmore. I felt: she was the fastest girl int he world! and the only first-place winner that day!
Lucy was proud of her accomplishments, too. Her beaming face was ribbon enough for us.
We spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying lunch and then the promised double-scoop of ice cream with Grammy and Poppy.
*I kind of keep forgetting that Lucy's not 4 yet, not really, at least. We celebrated a small birthday party for her with our friends and she's always seemed at least six months older than she really is. When Poppy made a joke about a request for her birth certificate following the race, I didn't get the joke at first. Oh, yeah...she's only 3!
Last week, we visited a local sprayground with our best of best friends. It was the last time we'd see one another until December, but who could bring that up while the kids were running through the water or climbing pirate rocks or spinning and bouncing and trying to skateboard?
We followed up our playground visit with a free (!) lunch at IKEA. The kids all though it was hilarious to be going to IKEA together, and as they sat down together in the children's dining area, seats carefully arranged, Peter said, "this is going to be the best lunch ever!"
I assure you that food-wise, this was not the best lunch ever. Friend wise, we'd be hard pressed to find better company. I kid you not that every. single. day. Peter requested to play with Matthew. When I'd preview our days ("we're going to Longwood Gardens today!"), Peter would almost always ask, "will Matthew be there?" When our Friday preschool playdates rolled around, they met with protest only because "we always see our preschool friends but we don't always see Matthew, Anna and Sophia."
No, we didn't always see Matthew, Anna and Sophia. Not every day, or every meal, or even overnight. These all have been ideas floated and considered in all seriousness. I do think we could have seen our good friends this often without having tired of their company.
We left one another in the entrance of IKEA, perhaps the most awkward of goodbye locations ever. The children happily exchanged their goodbyes and gave hugs, and it was only mid-way through the process that Peter realized this was the goodbye. A few moments later, strapped in the car and ready for yet another errand, Peter looked at me and said, "It's confusing me. If we stayed here we wouldn't have to say goodbye. I wish we could stay here, but I also wish we could live in California."*
*The middle-schooler in me loves that "fornicate" is one of the suggestions for my misspelled California.
We're done with doctors, at least for the next few months.
From birth, Peter has been poked and prodded and examined. He's easily had more procedures and tests than almost anyone in his family - combined.* He was generally good about the tests and appointments and the time away from Lucy and Thomas, but as the appointments kept coming and coming, he lost his patience.
(We did too, frankly.)
We do have a diagnosis of sorts for his hearing loss. His inner ear structures never fully developed, which means his hearing loss is congenital and not the result of an injury or the environment or raging ear infections.
Unilateral hearing loss of this nature is still a mystery for the medical community. There's not a good understanding of why or how it happens. One in Peter's series of many appointments was with a genetic counselor, who, after a series of measurements and questions, suggested that there may be a genetic component to his hearing loss.
At some point, before Peter's ready to have children of his own, he'll have a genetic workup to see if he is in fact a carrier for an this odd genetic condition. Until then, we'll visit the audiologist a few times a year to make sure his hearing is stable. We'll also take Thomas and Lucy to visit the audiologist to ensure they have normal hearing, too. Based on our super-unscientific tests of whispering in ears and whispering commands with our lips hidden, Thomas and Lucy can hear. Then again, we really had no idea that Peter had no hearing in his right ear for over four years. I'm willing to be surprised.
*Including, but not limited to, what we refer to around her as "tiny baby spinal tap."
The past few weeks have seen a near record-breaking heat wave hit the area. Blah, blah, weather complaint, blah, blah.
But here's the truth: we were looking forward to visiting our favorite places once more before we left. Tyler, Longwood, the Zoo, the giant slide at Smith Playground, and maybe even one last hike to the train tressel. But with the temperatures in the high 90s, we just couldn't and expect a fun outing. I, for one, would be grumpy and unpleasant in the brain-melting heat.
So we spent our last days in Pennsylvania looking for ways to escape the heat. It worked well, in some ways, as we were able to knock off several items from our to-do list. The car is reasonably air conditioned and the various stores, shops, and other stops were as well.
There was an unexpected symmetry in our days here, as we ended our three-year stay in the same ways we began. One of our first family outings was to Morris Arboretum; it was also our last family field trip. We revisited the Media library, which had been our first favorite and weekly favorite. There were a few trips to IKEA, a last stop at the Please Touch Museum, and a lot of outdoor play.
This move is odd in that it's not final. Kevin's family lives in the area and we're sure to visit twice a year. We'll revisit our favorite museum, we'll return to our favorite parks, and we'll reconnect with our best friends. I can't help but wonder, though, if our return trips will be more like these last weeks than the idyllic version I've drafted in my head. I know, too, that the experiences we cherished the most are exactly the ones we cannot replicate.
It does offer comfort to us and the children - Peter especially - to know that we're staying goodbye until Christmas.
This does mean that the people and places we do not visit are by our choice. It's up to us to continue relationships and to make the drive from South Jersey, all in the midst of family reunions and vacations. No pressure, right?
We visited on a Saturday and made sure to arrive early, early, early so as to avoid the crowds. We were there before it opened and marveled for the first half-hour as the museum was truly empty and the kids had their pick of any exhibit.
This museum has been so good to us, so much so that it was almost like saying goodbye to a good friend. While Peter has outgrown many parts - and he's realized it, too, which is almost worse - Thomas is just the perfect age to get lost in the "carwash" and scream during the play.
Thomas never quite shook his fear of the Mad Hatter. Every time he spotted the Mad Hatter, he'd shout "NO! NO HELMET!" I pointed out every Mad Hatter image, statue, and toy just to hear Thomas protest. I wanted to see if Thomas would realize that the Hatter was wearing a hat, but no: helmet it was.
It wasn't our best outing ever, but it certainly wasn't the worst. In the heightened emotions and lessened patience of these past weeks leaving without tears was a minor miracle.
Here's the garage I've already filled (in my minds eye) with trampolines
and laundry centers and big boxes labeled "important stuff to keep."
I recently realized that I've moved 12 times in my adult life. (I'm defining "move" as every change of address and "adult" as my time over 18.) It seems pretty itinerant, this lifestyle of moving every 16 months, especially considering that I spent the previous 18 years in the home where my family still lives. So.
Moving is a complete pain, to be sure, but this business of moving cross-country is a great opportunity to reorganize, purge, clean, reevaluate. Junk drawers are sorted, important papers are filed, old toiletries are tossed, and while I admit that I may have packed boxes labeled "random stuff," for the most part our belongings are nicely stashed in well-packed and well-labeled boxes.
Organization aside - and man, I love some good organization! - we've also knocked items off our to-do list with a ferocious intensity. Bike repairs, mending piles, doctor's appointments: we've done almost every nagging task that's been lingering on my to-do list for years in the span of three months.
Mostly, I'm excited to start new habits in our new place. I've always found it easiest to break from habit-driven ruts by changing our venue. I'm hopeful the kids will find it easy, too, as we have a few new habits we'd love them to embrace and several we'd like to break. I may have floated the phrase "we won't have television in California" today, which met with more than a few protests.
(Fear not, ye little couch potatoes: our television was packed on the moving truck. Besides, your father is all about watching football games at noon and March madness at 9 a.m. Pacific Time!)
Our very first and last days in Swarthmore. So much has changed over these three years - ahem, Thomas? - but we remain pretty much the same family who arrived here full of hope and excitment in beginning our new lives in Pennsylvania.
We loved our time here. We shed many a tear as we left our home, sad for the ending that is upon us.
But this new beginning? Yeah, we're looking forward to it.
It's not shaping up the way I thought it would.
But Thomas is waking, so there's something keeping us firmly entrenched in routine.
I've been trying to use up the random bits of stuff that we've accumulated over the past three years. The kids are great help in this regard. I've given them a box of various materials and they've been crafting with those bits off and on for the past few weeks.
I've also been trying to use the things I've purchased to be used and then never quite gotten around to. I tend to get bees in my bonnet over ideas and have a hard time moving past. Last summer, I'd wanted to host a messy art play date for a playgroup that was just getting off the ground, but the weather didn't permit it. (Remember all those times I complained about the heat? No? Hmm...) I'd purchased several squirt bottles for messy paint, and they remained safe in their dollar-store bag ever since.
That's why we ended up doing messy squirt paint, entirely with materials found on-hand. I made a sludge with flour and water and the kids could fill their bottles and color them with as liberal a dose of food coloring as they liked.
This, like some of the better projects, was more clean-up than actual play. Oh, the clean up. I was picking bits of gummy flour from Thomas's hair for days. Amazingly, no clothes were stained, and the kids were reasonably happy to get cleaned up before going back outside to play.
(Also, the squirt bottles are used up. Win, win.)
We've been watching two of our tadpoles slowly growing legs - from little stumps came these definite frog legs which, when harassed enough, would kick.
Unfortunately, one of the tadpoles went a'floatin' this weekend, and I was so grossed out by the results that I made Kevin dump the rest of his kin into the creek to live out their lives in a more humane manner. (And kudos to Kevin, too, who did this while on the way to work and proceeded to get covered in vile tadpole slime and various creek dirt. He's a good man, that one.)
Everyone took a turn in the baby raft at our last trip to the pool, except for Thomas. No one sank, either, which shows how sturdy these floats are. Peter could kind of motor around with his legs, but Lucy was set adrift and quickly floated toward the 15-feet zone.
For the past three years we've been telling Peter, Lucy, and then Thomas to not hang on the cabinet doors, please. They'll fall off, you know.
So I was glad when one of the doors finally did fall off, so I could say, "see? I warned you about this."
It was an easy repair and good fun to see Kevin with power tools, so I'm not sure the kids learned this lesson.
When Lucy changed the lyrics to "Wimoweh" - "wiener-wah," naturally, we all had to sing along, as loudly as we could, even if it did threaten to wake Thomas from his nap.
(He didn't wake, despite the many times Lucy screamed "I'M SINGING WIENER, CARS!" to the passing automobiles.)
"See Mama? I'm not too small for these roller skates. I told you so!"
crossing the creek; sauce buddies; living tennis ball
Last week our preschool outing was canceled due to the threat of thunderstorms and the heat wave, so we invited our neighbor for a cooling creek swim instead.
ill-supervised ball retrieval; thomasphoto (self-portrait)
With each trip the kids get a little more adventurous, or perhaps I get a little less nervous. On this day, Peter and Lucy worked very hard to rescue a tennis ball from the deep shore, using a heavy metal pipe as their main tool. Sounds super safe, right? I didn't realize they were using such a heavy pipe - I though, from my post on the opposite side of the creek, that it was just a stick - until I picked it up myself.
The trouble with this otherwise inviting stretch of creek is that it's the hangout for beer-drinking teenagers. There's a lot of broken glass on the ground and in the water. The kids - Lucy especially - would prefer to be barefoot at all times, especially in the sand and water. I would prefer them to not slice open their tiny feet.
Lest you think it's all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows up in here, let me tell you the end of this day.
- Thomas, asleep on our walk back.
- Crazy hot and cranky mama + kiddos.
- Super dirty mama + kiddos.
- So. Much. Crying.
I feel as though you can put the pieces of this puzzle together. It's not so pretty. At one point - screaming muddy toddler awake too soon in bed, screaming frustrated kiddos in bathtub - I lost it and barked at Lucy and Peter: "YOU HAVE TO STAY IN HERE UNTIL THOMAS IS ASLEEP AND IT MIGHT TAKE SEVEN HOURS SO JUST BE QUIET FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S GOOD AND HOLY."
There was television this day, and chocolate too.
The college pool is open for free swim in the afternoon, and since it's literally at the end of our driveway it could not be more convenient.
Thomas spent a good portion of his trip trying to escape back into the
locker room, then screaming "no Lucy! no Peter!" and then finally
going through Kevin's wallet. Good times.
Thomas wasn't such a fan of the first few visits, but on our last he both was willing to go into the water and stick his head in over and over and over again.
The water's cold and the pool's indoors, so it does a very effective job of cooling us down. Our walk back home is short enough to not raise our core body temperatures again. It's one of the luckiest parts of living here when the weather hits the high 90's.
Also, I have to admit, it's pretty awesome to see the kids swim pool lengths. With ever 25 meters they travel, their bedtime gets 5 minutes earlier.
One of our summer goals was to visit the beach with Grammy, Poppy, Aunt Brey, and Maeylnn. And in the midst of moving/summer travel/work, we found a day sneak away and play.
The pictures kind of say it all. The kids love the beach, the boardwalk, their grandparents and their cousins. There was also the obligatory ice cream and pizza and as many fudge samples as could be conned away.
We rode rides on the boardwalk until we could ride no more. (Peter, for the record, could have gone longer. I'm not sure there ever were enough rides for him.) We challenged the many and various regulations of the boardwalk rides. There were the typical height regulations, but also many interesting variations on who could accompany under-height children: a responsible person, an adult, a companion (who may not necessarily need be responsible). We put Thomas on a ride calling only for a companion, and realized quickly he could possible meet his grim end. (He didn't.)
Oh! Peter and Kevin finally went on the log flume, which was fun except that Thomas was terrified for them the entire time and screamed like...well, like he was watching his father and brother float off to their grisly death. He didn't take the next log down the flume.
Our last visit to the beach with our preschool friends was a magical time. I don't toss that word around lightly, but this beach visit truly was something special. We splashed in the ocean in late October, hung out on the beach with our friends for hours, and no one had a meltdown.
We tried to recreate the magic one last time before we left. Our friend Elizabeth generously opened her beach house to us, many friends drove from hours away, and we filled the refrigerator with delicious snacks (and ice cream pie!), and we were ready to hit the beach.
The beach wasn't so ready for us, though. The weather was cold and windy and threatening rain. We toughed out the un-beach-like weather, and I kept reminding myself of that adage: there's no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothes. But for a sweater (and pants and a rain jacket), we'd have been perfectly happy.
(This is probably the third or fourth time this summer that I've mad a similar mistake. See: Michigan trip, for example. It's little wonder the kids are battling summer colds right now.)
Some spotted an abandoned (or washed up?) pink plastic sled, and the kids quickly turned it into a boat ride. They took turns riding in the boat and pulling it along in the tidepools. Later, it helped us quickly haul back from the far reaches of the beach, as Kevin took Peter, Lucy, and Catherine for a snow-less sled.
Possibly because of the windy and rainy weather, the kids invented one of the most hilarious games, ever: run loops around the wrap-around second-story deck, trying to avoid crashing into one another, sharp corners, or sliding off to the ground below. I suspect the slippery deck made the game even more fun for them and nerve-wracking for the parents. It didn't end with the first injury, either.
And, at the end, the kids commandeered all of the cushions for a tent-building, body-squishing, squeeling and jumping and raukous game. Amazingly, there were no injuries here. I took this as a sign and we bolted out the door with our goodbyes.
