Meet Johnny

I think this play thing is becoming infectious.

Today my husband traded in his Ford Explorer for a Vespa scooter...like the ones he used to ride in high school. I haven't seen a smile so big on his face in a long, long time. I think that in addition to the savings (gas, parking, the car note, insurance) and environmental benefits (90 MPG!!), this purchase will put him back in touch with his inner kid. It's hard being a grown-up...to be so serious all the time. But how can you take anything to seriously when you pull up to work on this??



And coincidentally, during our game of Apples to Apples tonight, the adjective was PROUD, and the winning pair for it was RIDING A SCOOTER.

Fuzzy Was He?

This is our first spring away from the east coast in five years, and I must admit I do miss it (a bit). Spring back east is always such a breezy sigh of relief -- the gray desolation of winter giving way FINALLY to all those green promises. And, my favorite part -- the arrival of the critters. Lady bugs, birds, squirrels, and caterpillars. In Maryland you can barely take three steps in April without having to step over a caterpillar making its slow way to munch on leaves. So it was much to my delight the other day when the girls discovered Fuzzy: a big fat black fuzzy caterpillar living among the tiki totem poles in out backyard. And not only did they manage to find Fuzzy but befriend him as well, because he came back the next day (despite the games they played with him -- luring him into the gaping mouth of a rubber alligator and then shaking him out, etc...). The sense of wonder that spring always brought in MD returned this weekend...despite the fact that it's been 70 and sunny for weeks now.

The Happiest Place on Earth

I love surprises...not getting them so much, but giving them. This weekend, so far, has been filled with surprises. On Thursday after gymnastics, I told the girls I had to go downtown to pick something up. When we got to the airport, I said that some guy named Charles had some paperwork for me to get...but he wasn't off his plane yet. We circled a few times until "Charles" -- AKA Ceilidh, my sister, was waiting at the curb. So, an unexpected guest was the first surprise. Then, on Friday morning was the biggie. In the morning, we told the girls we were going to take KK (Ceilidh) out to breakfast before school. They love Urban Solace, our friends' restaurant, and so we said we'd head down to North Park for some French Toast...but we'd get them to school on time. Well, another hour and a half later as we approached Anaheim, they were both miserable....and hungry. And Kicky, nervous, made me call the school to tell them we'd be late. But when Esmee finally noticed the signs, it was all worth it.



The last time my sister and I went to Disney together was twenty years ago when I was in college, and she was about 14. The last time Patrick and I took the kids was when they were too little to remember anything. So this time, I was giddy with excitement. And we did everything (everything the girls weren't terrified of anyway). The Tiki Room, the Jungle Cruise, Alice's Adventures, the Finding Nemo submarine. We spent way too much money on lunch and KK treated to some extravagant gifts in the gift shop. It really was a magical day.

On the way home, Kicky kept asking questions about what our memories were about growing up together. Now, my sister is seven years younger than I am...which is great now, but when we were kids we didn't have much in common. My memories were of various ways she tortured me (especially on road trips). Her memories involved her wanting to play with me, and me wanting to sleep. Strangely, we didn't really play together until we were grown up.

When my girls were babies it was so hard...having them two years apart has been a challenge at many stages of their little lives. But now that they are older, it really is like always having a live-in friend. We don't have to have play dates, because they have each other. My sister and I are very close now...but it took many years for us to catch up to each other. And I know that closeness in age doesn't guarantee close friendships. But it's one hope that I have...that these girls will always want to play together...now and when they're big.

Babies to Apples

In brief: brought the girls to play with the new baby. Baby ate, spat-up, slept, grimaced, cooed and, upon opening his eyes, looked utterly confused. Conclusion: babies really aren't very good at playing. And so after dinner we all convened around the Apples to Apples board and I WON. I won, I won, I won.

Tomorrow my sister arrives from Flagstaff...the girls have no idea she's coming. On Friday morning, we are going to pretend to bring them to school and, instead, take them to Disneyland. How ya like them apples???

Flat Stanley

I really don't know if this counts as playing...but last night the girls and I read Flat Stanley together, each taking a turn reading the pages (which took nearly an hour). I know most people read to their kids...but now that the girls are older, we really don't so much anymore. They are both very independent readers who retreat to their rooms each night with a stack of books -- which they usually sleep with. We read side by side, and we read separately, but it's been a very long time since the three of us shared a book. (And man, do I love Flat Stanley. I have loved him since I was six years old. I remember trying, like his brother, to flatten myself. I wanted to get sent as a letter, flown like a kite.)

I think maybe this is why book clubs are so popular...reading a story together, the shared experience of a book, is something entirely different than reading alone. And then this morning, as Esmee clung backwards to the chain link fence around her school and said, "Look! I'm a picture hanging in a museum!" it was a shared joke...between the three of us. And Flat Stanley.

Big Day

A lot of excitement here today...and though not a traditional play day...it was very playful. Some very exciting news (to be announced soon) came early along with a spectacular brunch at Urban Solace with Kai and her fabulous entourage. (The sticky bun appetizers were as big as our heads!!) Afterward, we came back home only to (finally) get the call that our amazing friends need us to watch their three year old so she can have a BABY!!!

Right now, the girls are playing "Troll Under the Bridge" with him, which involves a lot of running in circles and wrestling. Hoping for a decent bed time...and when he wakes up, he'll likely be a big brother.

I'm being beckoned by the troll....

Playground

So these projects, these blog-jects (you know, cooking your way through Julia Child's French recipes, or taking a photograph of the back of your head every day, or, I don't know, making the time to play with your kids for an hour a day for a whole year) should, at some point, be revelatory, right...or otherwise what's the point? I mean, my main purpose is, as I have said, to give my children more of my undivided attention and also to really play with them while they are still young enough to want me to. But as with any creative project, shouldn't you also want to learn something? So far in this month of play I've had a few moments of inspiration, but not much by way of revelation...until tonight.

And tonight my revelation came from the most unlikely source...so unexpected I'm almost embarrassed to even say it. Anyway, it's Saturday and Patrick is at a gallery opening and the girls are asleep and there's nothing on TV and I am generally restless and so earlier I turned to this movie called "Yes Man." I wandered in and out of the room, letting it be my background jibber-jabber that TV so often is, until this scene where Jim Carrey's character (who has decided to say YES to everything apparently) walks into a club and sees Zooey Deschanel's band -- Munchhausen Syndrome By Proxy playing). Now, I love Zooey Deschanel, I just do. And who could resist a band named after one of the creepiest mental illnesses ever (so creepy, in fact, I even wrote an entire novel about it). And suddenly I got sucked into the Carrey/Deschanel/"Yes Man" vortex. And then came the scene where they sneak into the Hollywood Bowl and are talking about how little it matters what you do with your life as long as it gives you true pleasure. The direct quote is, "The world is a playground.You know that when you are a kid but somewhere along the way, everyone forgets it.”

And it got me thinking. I'm not sure I have seen the world as a playground for a long time. I was kind of a serious kid. I didn't goof off in class. I rarely got into trouble. I actually remember there being moments when I was a teenager that I ached to be able to just let go, to be free-spirited like some of my friends. When my guy friends went through a streaking phase, it was excruciating...the agony of not ever being able to have that same delicious sense of abandon and adventure. (I was always the look-out...never the streaker.) Growing up was, in some ways, a huge relief. And as I watched this cheesy movie (which is paused right now so I can get back to it in a minute), I was struck with a vivid recollection of a road trip that I made about fifteen years ago with my husband and his sister from Seattle, where we had been living, to Flagstaff. I remember getting up to about 6,000 feet (where desert turns to mountains) and that my sister-in-law made us stop to car so she could get out and play in the snow. It was cold, we'd been driving forever, but my husband stopped and they got out and played. I remember sitting inside the truck, overwhelmed with a melancholy feeling, wishing for something I couldn't quite articulate.

Anyway. There it is: Revelation #1. In order for this project (blog-ject) to have some real meaning (for me as well as for the girls), I need to work on seeing the world as a playground and myself as someone who is allowed to play there. That's the hard part maybe. I don't know.

P.S. Tonight I actually did ballet with Kicky in the living room. I may not be able to walk tomorrow.