On Sunday I ran a half-marathon.

On Monday, I brought my kids to camp and saw this view:

As I looked out on the expanse, I thought of the whole "you can see for miles," cliche. Since it was an overcast day the view is limited to what it could have been.

Nonetheless, I was struck at how in this frame I could see a big portion of what I ran on Sunday. Everything seemed so small, and therefore, the space so large. And yet, I ran from the base of the Bay Bridge (which is behind Yerba Buena island to the left) to the Golden Gate Bridge (which of course is faintly visible at the right). I ran across the Golden Gate, turned around and came back. At that point, 9 miles were down. The rest of the race - through the Presidio ending in Golden Gate Park - is not visible in this picture.

Continue reading "The San Francisco Half-Marathon" »

This summer has been heavy-hitting when it comes to recognizing my own mortality, how I'm suddenly an "adult" (see, I still have to put it in quotes!) and how quickly my kids are growing.

Three years ago we moved to our current home. The Cat was starting first grade. Now it is Spliggle - my "baby" - starting first grade. Meanwhile, the Cat will be an "upperclassman" when school starts in a month. Watching them swim, play, and otherwise interact with the world, I'm stricken with just how "big" they are now. We have conversations about topics where I don't immediately have the answer. Both boys come up with sophisticated ideas just as often as they make me roll my eyes with their fleeting common sense.

I've been doing a bunch of cleaning and sorting recently. My grandmother died last week, and so while going through her belongings I've come across things - pictures, trinkets, memories - that I had forgotten about. (And then there are the things I didn't know existed, like my grandmother's high school report card and graduation program that shows she was the valedictorian! Of course, it is just her humble personality that she would never mention this to us. Bless her incredible soul!) Of course, these objects and images take me back, and bring tears as I realize just how quickly time passes.

Continue reading "I Never Wanna Grow Up" »

Q: What happened to my sink?
A: I put all of my ducks in it!

Uh, ... okay.... Is that like having all your chickens in one basket?

Perhaps funnier was that when I removed all the ducks, I found a wrinkled princess at the bottom.

A week ago Saturday, I did an endurance run with Laura. Then this past Saturday, I hosted a birthday party for Splig. Both were equally exhausting.

It seems that being SIX is cause for the entire world to bow down to you. At least two of the birthday guests fully expected that I'd be at their beck and call the whole time. While I appreciate that a good hostess always caters well to her guests, I've got to admit a surprise at just how demanding these specific kids were.

(And no experience with ill-behaved kids would be complete without an appearance by an ill-behaved mother, but I'm going to be good and not gossip thusly.)

Overall, the party was fabulous. Most of the kids were well-mannered, and one mom whose child was a bit nervous for her to go stuck around and ended up helping me a great deal with the serving of pizza ("I want TWO cheese, NOW!") and cupcakes ("I better get one with vanilla frosting on top and chocolate cake underneath!") One child proclaimed that it was the best party EVER. And Splig concurred, telling his guests that they had picked out excellent presents for him. (Um, okay, almost polite.)

Continue reading "Enduring, Exciting, Evolving, and Exhausting" »

I took pictures during our shed's construction. I liked the angles on this one. (And the smell of new lumber. Sorry you can't smell it...)

Intellectuals, turn thy head away from this page! I'm allowing myself frivolity today.

I'm a sucker for reality shows. A classmate was on The Real World, a fraternity brother won Beauty and the Geek, and two folks from my hometown were in the latest season of Biggest Loser. Contestants from Survivor have shown up at several events in my area, and a friend's sister once dated Jeff Probst.

But what I like the best about reality shows is simultaneously the escape from reality and the confirmation of some of my realities.

Eight years ago, a good friend of my husband's perished in a skiing accident. A week or so later, our home - then a small condo - became a gathering place for local friends and his out-of-state family. The parents stayed in a hotel, but the "kids" - adults in their own right - stayed with us. One way we "distracted" ourselves from the sober situation was to watch the premiere of a brand-new show entitled The Bachelor. We laughed about the ridiculous premise, and anticipated it wouldn't last long.

Continue reading "My Reality Shows Me Something" »

In our old house, we had a white kitchen. And, we had a white refrigerator:

When we moved into our new house, I was excited by the granite counter-tops and the sleek black and stainless steel appliances. But... we still had the white refrigerator we brought from the old place:

Continue reading "Operation Black Refrigerator" »

But... it is real shaving cream.

Splig loves temporary tattoos, so we know that as soon as he's legal, he'll probably seek out a real one. As for shaving, I'm sure he'll be game, but the Cat really doesn't want any whiskers... ever.

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On the sponsored side of things, I have an Apple Bottoms infant outfit giveaway at A Spectrum of Reviews. It has been quite awhile since I've had infants...

My family and I have an interesting habit of making up nonsense words (and then being a little shocked in public when we get funny looks.)

I remember my brother's unique words at around age 5 like "pubby" to indicate "fat." (Is it a morph of "pudgy" and "chubby" perhaps?) Similarly, I -at age 30-something- call my little Verizon wireless thing a "flubby." At one point I talked about having to locate my flubby, and a friend thought I was talking about my husband in a derogatory way (thinking "flabby" and "hubby" I suppose.)

And then there is the Cat, who has decided that "darfy" is an expression of happiness. At first I thought it was "starfy," but no. The Cat also likes to randomly yell out "barf bucket!" along with other expressions of very fourth-grade subject matter. Splig, of course, joins in eagerly with a giggle.

Continue reading "Darfy, Dude!" »

Okay, fine. Maybe it was a tad bit smaller.