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Do Sharks Have Balls? 

30 Aug

It was a long Summer. Long. 

Although- I am happy to report that it was not as hard as last summer or the summer before or the one before that. I never thought I would say this, but, life is getting significantly easier. Trust me, I had my, “What the fu*k is wrong with you guys?” moments. But the frequency was so much less than it was before. 

I am proud to say that not only did the three children survive, but I did too! I can also report no broken bones, no stitches, no poison ivy and not one child was lost at an amusement park or museum, not even briefly. 

There was a solo trip for the kids and Daddy to Yosemite for 6 days – no sunburns, no emergency room trips and nobody attacked by wild animals. There was some vomiting, haunted hotels and bug bites, but what’s a proper road trip without those things?

There were the days that all three kids went to camp. Those were glorious days. Camp days are just the best. Handing your child over to an overly energetic college counselor who can’t wait to run around in the sun and entertain your kid, is the best feeling in the world.  Besides when the kids are all sleeping, that’s an awesome feeling too.

On days when my guilt kicked in and I figured I should remind the kiddos that the camp counselors aren’t actually their adoptive parents, we hit the beach. We had a beach groove and our own special spot on the sand near the Annenberg Beach House in Santa Monica. Our sunscreen routine was down to a science. Line up in the hallway in bathing suits youngest to oldest (one twin is 3 minutes older) and slowly rotate as I spray each of them. Then hand the sunscreen stick for their faces back and forth to each other in the car until everyone is covered. We conquered fears of seaweed, a phobia of peeing in the ocean, and even fear of sharks. My son (5) will proudly tell you that if a shark tries to eat his sisters he will kick him in the nuts. Solid plan little man. Of course this is coming from the kid who had to overcome his fear of seaweed first.

Summer of 2015. We owned you. No strollers. No diapers. No nap times. 

Fourth grade and Kindergarten (times 2) bring it on. We are ready for you. 

*Of course I would like to reserve the right to adjust my positive outlook once the kids all start acting like   little monsters again.


Writer’s Block – A Terrible Place To Live

27 Nov

I like to consider myself a recreational writer on most days. On some days I actually call myself a real live writer. Today, I wouldn’t call myself a writer in any way, shape or form. I showed up to my writing class at UCLA this morning feeling pretty spiffy that I had a solid introduction written to my final term paper. As I listened to the assigned readers for today share their latest material, I realized that my work was complete crap.
I had struggled for weeks just trying to decide what my topic was going to be. The assignment was to write an essay about absolutely anything I so desired. The only contingencies were that it had to be non-fiction and a personal essay. Considering the class is titled , Writing Your Healing Story, you can imagine the topics that were being covered. The Death of spouses, parents and children, Cancer, suicide, and unimaginable pain of all kinds.

What the hell was I supposed to write about?

One Woman in class writes about the loss of her Mother so beautifully that I find myself wondering if my children will ever love me as much as she loved her Mom. I can feel her Mother’s warmth. I can feel her profound love for her Mother and I can grasp her pain just by listening to her words. She is an amazing writer. Another writer in class writes about humans rescuing scarred and forgotten animals. In his essays, the true rescue and life renewed takes places in the person’s life because of the animal, not vice versa.

I decided to write about my time that I spent at a boarding school in the mountains of San Bernadino. While it isn’t quite the same as death or disease it was a pretty traumatic time in my life. It took me 5 hours to write my intro. Just my introduction! That is crazy for me. I am a one run writer. I write almost all my posts and essays in one shot, no drafts, no re-writes. Writing is a fast paced and super stream of consciousness process for me. But this topic and this essay is proving to be nothing of the sort. I know it’s a story I want to write, but somehow my words on the page don’t seem to be enough.

I love to write. I love this blog. But for today, I’m thinking maybe I should just stick to being a stay at home Mom to twins plus one…

I’m sure I will change my mind tomorrow, I usually do.



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