Category Archives: Holidays

AKA: travel.

Every 100 Years a Post

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When the babes were tiny, I had a life that accommodated my ability to create limitless prose about the awesomeness (and sometimes not-so-awesomeness) of parenting. Within the pages of this blog I got to wax poetic about the crazy, the fun, the angry, the harrowing, the adorable, the hilarious. In looking for an old photo recently, I found myself falling down the rabbit hole of reading old posts that in some cases had me literally, laughing out loud, then almost crying. Picture Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation sitting in his attic watching 8mms – and yes I was wearing a turban.

I think the thing that hit me like a ton of bricks is how much time has slipped past since the kids were born. This year Stelly turned 10. P is almost 8. As I sit here writing, Stella is in the kitchen helping plan dinner and unloading the dishwasher. Porter is at a friend’s house for a sleepover. They are big kids now. Thoughtful, mature, fun, silly big kids. It makes me realize that time has disappeared in a blink. Take this post for example: Quality Family Time. Be sure to look at the photo set – it is the true heart of the story.

It makes me incredibly mournful to accept that my writing has been buttoned up for a period. I know it is not the end, but it is halted for this period of my life where parenting, and retailing and wife-ing and participating have become the larger priority. And I can dig that. I love to write. I love that I have written, and I know I will find my way back to it at some point.

But. I have done my best to evolve my documentarianism. Even though I can’t write every day, I have done my best to post as close to every day as I can manage. Anything. Something. So a picture makes its way along. Or even just a 140-ish character sentiment.

Last year became the evolution to a photo-a-day. I would give myself a C+ in my overall job in this task. But it’s a starting point.

And so, Happy New Year to all of you. I am so ridiculously lucky to have my endlessly supportive family and my loyal, fun, zany, smart, silly, witty, scandalous, friends who make me smile, and make me feel whole, real, grounded and loved. I hope with all my being that my children get to experience such greatness in their lives.

May 2014 be the beginning – or continuation – of the next something great for all of you.

Here’s the wrap-up for holiday season 2013. (And for those of you wondering, yes that is a Millenium Falcon birthday cake.)

Enjoy!

Holiday 2013 from natalie on Vimeo.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

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I’m not gonna lie. This Christmas was action-packed. Retail during the holidays is relentless, and when you throw in our usual Thanksgiving-Birthday-Dance-Recital-Birthday-Christmas-New-Year’s routine, it pretty much makes it certain that life becomes one giant hamster wheel ‘o fun.

Everyone was pretty civilized about how my recent job transition completely upturned our family’s nicely calibrated alternating holiday travel schedule. Yes, it was our year to go to the valley. No, we did not go. Yes, everyone had to drag themselves back up here. Again. But if these last years have taught us anything, it is that no matter our well-laid (lain? layed? layered?) plans, life always intervenes. And as such, we are learining to roll with it.

Stella danced her role as Latin Christmas Ornament with great beauty. Her birthday was a pre-tweener extravaganza with giggles and loud top-40 music and goofiness. Steve’s birthday was a great success of homebrew, ribs, friends and family. We all soldiered through the fact that crab season didn’t open in time for Christmas this year and we had to suffer (not really) through the Mexican feast of tamales and homemade chile verde. The kids got desks and books and toys and fun things, and yet chose to spend the better part of the day playing with a giant cardboard box. And because we are the type that never quits while we are ahead, we brought in the New Year right proper with more dancing and merriment. Boo to the yah.

Once again, I took full advantage of the fact that my mother has immersed herself in her passion for picture taking, and let her take on the lion’s share of picture taking. Hey, it takes a village, people!

I did do the work to gather all the pictures up, crop, correct and upload. I even went the extra mile and videoed that bad-boy. You’re welcome.

And Happy New Year.

Christmas 2012 Slideshow from natalie on Vimeo.

Bouncing Into 2012

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In the great cycle of holiday rotation it was our turn to host Christmas, which was good considering the fact that this year the whole extended family went in together to purchase the kids a trampoline. Now, we have hauled an amazing amount of things back and forth across this great state, but I think strapping a 14-foot trampoline atop the vehicle would have put us in an entirely new category of questionable decision-making. Alas, it was a huge hit and continues to be the place the kids run to directly after school. On a related note, every muscle in my body has filed official complaint with the trampoline company.

Steve’s birthday was a great success and his new race-car grill (also a gift from the entire family) was used in the making of this year’s birthday dinner selection of wings and burgers. The Haws and Bakers joined us, the kids ran amok, and once everyone said their good-byes and went home to tend to their own Christmas Eve preparations, the men at 111 set about assembling the trampoline. Wagers were being placed on how long it would take and how many injuries would ensue, however Steve was bouncing on it within an hour and a half. They were justifiably smug about their accomplishment.

I was beyond bad at taking photos this year, but thankfully my parents decided to purchase themselves a new digital SLR as an early Christmas present, and my mom did an excellent job of taking up the slack. I put together a very quick slideshow (my criteria was to constrain the selections to what could fit within one song). If you are interested in all of the gory details, you can find complete sets over on Flickr.

May this be the last Christmas song you have to hear for the next 11 months….

Looking in the rearview mirror.

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It’s Mother’s Day.

Normally, this is the part where I’d be going on a tirade about how my children have no concept of what it means to be civil to each other for more than a 1-hour interval – Mother’s Day be damned. And, as much as I love being able to utilize the internet to air my maternal grievances, I’m feeling a little reflective this year. Considered yourself warned; it may get all sentimental and reflective up in here.

For as together as I have always fancied myself, this whole Mom thing continues to chip, chip away at my heretofore crystallized sense of self. This year, in particular, has started to create the kind of fissures that actually create large falling chunks of debris.

I have made numerous speeches, both on these pages, and to my eternally patient friends and family about how tough this parenting gig is. I’ve proclaimed my stance. I’ve issued the “I never” statements. I’ve put my foot down firmly and confidently about sticking to what I thought was right. Because that’s what I do best – I KNOW what I’m doing. The trouble with this approach, is that once you realize you DON’T know what you are doing, you are kind of screwed.

I have been a parent for almost 7 1/2 years. And each year, while I am busy recording my snarky parenting observations, I am also being challenged in ways that I never knew was even possible. In the great deck of kid-themed cards, I was dealt a whip-smart, hard-headed, overachiever of a daughter. And an adorable, yet quirky son with the intensity of a nuclear reactor. Each of whom, I would not, could not trade in a million, gazillion years. I adore them. I profusely adore them. Let me tell you why.

Firstly, they are the fruit of my loins. I have little room to complain considering they are part of my genes, blood, goo and all that stuff. Secondly, there is that tiny fact that they are amazing. I adore them. Have I mentioned that already? They are beautific. Gorgeous. Amazing. Absolutely Wonderful.

Then there is that part about me. The part where I spend all my time worrying that I’m doing it all wrong. Parents, you hear me, right? It’s that part where I realize I am using that impatient and cranky voice way too much, or lecturing when I should be listening. Or that I am letting them watch too much TV, but also not wanting them to be the “we don’t have a tv, because my parents think that corporate America is subverting my intellect” kid either.

Somewhere, I’m not exactly sure when, I came to a crossroads where I started having to make some concessions with myself. That moment where I had to say, “Natalie, you don’t know this. Stop pretending you do.” I wasn’t born with the soft, squishy, natural parenting sensibility. I initially credit this realization to Porter, but have very quickly come to realize that it is also Stella who is making me learn to choose my words ever so carefully. Porter’s brand of crazy is usually pretty straighforward: intricately managing the flow of what would be considered the normally inconsequential sequence and nuance of every detail of our lives. Stella’s needs are far more subtle. Firstly, she’s the older kid. The girl. As I see it, she’s pretty much, THE ME. I (as well has her father) have our work cut out, in enabling her to be the most self-confident, empathetic, kind and beautiful girl she is destined to be. I will consider it my own personal failure if this shit goes all screwy.

So then, back to me. The part where I have to admit that there are many ways that I have most definitely been doing it wrong. Paraphrased from one of my favorite moms on Twitter: How is it that kids are these giant mirrors? Showing us everything that is wrong within ourselves and simultaneously challenging us to be better?

How strange is that? Somehow, in making them better, we have to simultaneously make ourselves better too. Their Kid Kung-Fu is strong.

So now, in full-on reflective Mother’s Day mode, I am gazing sappily at this parental transformation. It’s not perfect yet, and may never be. I try not to focus on what I haven’t done, but more what I hope to accomplish: That our son’s quirkiness will become nothing more than a charming self-awareness of kookiness (he’s got the intellect part in the bag), and that our daughter will be able to channel that wit, intellect and warmth towards a life of greatness. And that both of them will be happy. Blissfully happy.

See? I told you – sappy.

So, cheers.
To my moms (both actual and in-law).
I’m proud to be part of your club.

Books

Fall is Fun, I SAID FUN!

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Well, we did it. We survived another pumpkin patch extravaganza. Us with our crisp fall weather, and delusionally optimistic outlook. By the end we are usually pitching the pumpkins into the back of the car and dragging our dirt covered (often screaming) kids from the hay-bale labrynth. It is the sick and twisted side of my personality that stifled a giggle as a fuming Jodie comes storming up with her daughter who tried (almost successfully, I might add) to scale the barbed wire fence – trying to make a hasty pumpkin-patch escape, no doubt. Stella insisted on bringing home 5 different squash that she will later refuse to eat. Porter, miraculously wore closed-toed shoes. All in all, I’d say it was not different than any other year.

Go!
(click photo to see the entire set)