Mark it Down!

Andrew and I  just finished our first chapter book.

The Chocolate Touch

 

It was slow going. He'd lose interest and we'd step away for weeks at a time. The way he poured over the minimal chapter head art was cute and funny. But he understood the story and it has been fun arguing whether someone could ever get sick of eating chocolate. Plus he was riveted with horror when (SPOILER) the mom gets turned into chocolate- so that made me feel good.

If you’re 29 Days early then you’re late

It is happening. I’m losing my mind. This has been slowly and insidiously working on me since the moment my precious son was born. In August.

Apparently, being born in August as a boy, especially one of smaller stature, is an unimaginable tragedy when it comes to school.

Ever since he was a tiny pup I always got strange flip comments about how “you can keep him home an extra year” when the topic of school would come up.  I always found this an annoyance and pretty ridiculous. By my math with the school entrance cut off as August 31^st that put him well within the cutoff and, barring any developmental issues, it made no sense to plan on such a move before the child even had the chance to grow and learn anything.

Well, he’s grown and learned. And he is pretty great. He is sharp, a critical thinker and incredibly imaginative. His speech is clear and he has a diverse vocabulary. He has shown with his dinosaur phase that he can have focus but doesn’t get too intense. He makes friends, he is rude sometimes to some of them. He reveres his teachers and sometimes doesn’t give them the time of day. In other words…he seems right on target to me. He certainly has things to work on before September but that’s kind of the point of preschool, not to mention, the kid has parents who care. Oh and he continues to be quite small for age.

In September he started stand-alone preschool. Inexplicably, the school is divided into a 3-5 year old class and a “pre-k” with end of January as the cut-off for the division between 3-5 and pre-k. Andrew is in the 3-5 and we have noticed that his class skews more to the three year olds. This seemed to be setting expectations closer to the 3’s and the bigger issue to me was that his future elementary classmates were all in the other class. We called a meeting to discuss moving him into pre-k.

You can all imagine my face when the teacher (PT) starts the conversation by saying that they really think he should do an extra year of pre-k. When I asked her to elaborate her main points were that he is young and small and everyone else is doing it. After I recovered from my annoyance stroke I think I did a good job of not only debunking her but also of giving myself the reassurance that, despite the hesitation to initiate yet another childcare change, it needs to happen.

But as with everything parenting there is a ton of doubt so I will lay out for you/myself why red-shirting is a major issue and why I shouldn’t fall into it with my kid.

1.       It further widens the age and ability range for kindergarten which requires teachers to further expand their already strained focus. People are sending their kids to kindergarten at nearly 6.5 (this was a point that PT used to argue for red-shirting.) other people are sending their freshly turned 5 year olds to school as indicated by the cutoff. And if we all keep doing that doesn’t it just push the date up further and further? Until a kid born in July, then June and so on, are bullied into red-shirting? Someone has to be the youngest in school, it just is. If I got to pick the cut off would be June 1st, that way it gives people a few months to wrestle with the idea of their 5 year olds starting school and parental emotion can be taken out of the equation a bit.

2.       It is an option disproportionately unavailable to poor and working parents. Red shirting requires an extra year of child care and in a climate where that is unaffordable I think it is wrong to incentivize it. If anything we should get all kids into school sooner and let curriculum reflect that.   

3.       It is gaming the system. The talk used to be more about size….let your kid get bigger and better at things like sports. Now the conversation avoids that and pretends to focus on “maturity” because size makes it sound more explicitly like what it is, a way to game the system. But for public schools to thrive we need less of this than more. For my kid he will likely always be the smallest, treating that like it is a disability is not ok. If he was having motor skills issues and an OT thought a year would be helpful that’s one thing. A year for him to grow taller? Maybe we can just help our kids not be assholes to short kids? And I have a sinking suspicion that it starts with us parents (this mom at preschool drop-off, who I’d never spoken a single work to said, “He’s starting K next year? HE’S SO TINY” in front of the whole class.)

4.       That spread in ages? It perpetuates through school until you have high schoolers ranging from 13-19 years old.

5.       He is a normal, developing and thriving kid. Why would we make this kind of decision without there being a true developmental reason? He absolutely has things to work on to be ready and I guess this is where I get a bug in my shorts. That’s what I want from preschool. I want them to have the expectation of him that in the next 6-9 months he is making progress in the areas he needs to for school. I feel like these kids considered “young” are being written off. This idea that they have this luxury of an additional year so there’s no need to help them progress now. It is wrong and it is unfair. I want my kid to be asked to rise to the occasion and then evaluate where he struggles to do that.

The points that are bringing me down:

1.       Everyone is doing it. When PT said this to me my response was, “you have to be what you want to see.” But if we have a de facto cutoff date based on everyone red-shirting (except the poor and blissfully clueless) then isn’t that just the new cutoff date?

2.       I am finding as the start of real school is on the horizon that I am desperately wishing to pump the brakes. That parental emotion I spoke of above…turns out I’m swimming in it. I am so excited for him to continue to learn and grow but what about the parks we haven’t gotten to yet? Or the library trips or vacations or anything that being in real school conflicts with. It is a lot for me. BUT THAT IS ME NOT HIM. My mom is good at gently reminding me of this and I have to continue reminding myself.

3.       What if he really does need more time to get ready for school? Well, no brainer, if he genuinely needs that then we would make that decision. But to me he deserves the chance to get there before deciding he won’t get there in time.

One thing in all of this is that my confidence in Andrew in particular has never wavered. I don’t think I have blinders on to his flaws and weaknesses. But now to go find a preschool environment who shares our commitment to helping him grow. 

Puffy heart

I’m having a head over heels for my kid kinda day.

Andrew is just growing up and it is cool and crazy.

We went on a preschool field trip together. It was to a “farm” (emphasis on the quotes) and I decided that M would go to daycare and it would be the two of us.

Well, this morning I set off the smoke detectors while trying to make us popcorn to take as a snack. They both did amazing and then I noticed that he put away the broom and pole I had to use to turn it off when the noise and chaos was over.



Then we had a great time at the field trip. I loved watching him with his little friends and it made me so happy that he is still little enough to enjoy me being a part of his posse.









We then went to lunch with my mom and he sat and colored while she and I chatted about boring stuff.

Then he and I attempted to go shopping for out adopt a family for USVI relief. And he sorta got it. He suggested getting them pumice stones but....

After dinner we went to the elementary school and he scaled the big play structure like it was nothing.

Finally while I was getting M into bed he colored. But I loved watching him trying to copy the colors to match the sheet to a sticker he had.



He’s cool. He’s big. He has his moments- even today we didn’t get to make the crafts he wanted because he got himself into trouble. But man, I was having a day of such deep appreciation for the kid he is.









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Things I've learned this year

It's my birthday on Monday.
Here's what I've learned this year:
1) I am a stupid idiot.
This time last year I was so hopeful and excited. Like a big stupid idiot. The events of the past year have shown me how idiotically blind I've been to the depth and depravity of the ills of this country and the world. I am humbled and cowed by my idiocy.

2) How to fry a dippy egg.

So, I guess this year has been a mixed bag.

Pictures of a few of the people who've been the highlights of my year.



















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I wish I didn't hate religion

Because I’d LOVE to belong to a church.

Last weekend the whole family volunteered at our neighborhood elementary day for a big city-wide school clean-up day. It was open to the public but was organized by a religious group.
We had a great time. It was fun being in an elementary school- for me and Michael out of nostalgia and interested in the ways things have changed and for the kids because they’d never been in big kid school before.
We were as helpful as we could be. Andrew and Michael sharpened pencils, Miranda and I wiped desks and fetched some supplies. Michael and I helped a bewildering collating project and the kids played in the gym/picked up trash.









I LOVE a volunteer group. People are generally in such good moods and willing to do things they aren’t great at or don’t take the most specialized skills. I get to see how different organizations run and how the slack is picked up by a helping hand. Everyone is usually really friendly and there are typically donuts.



I wish religion wasn’t so demonstrably terrible and based on worshipping an incredibly cruel or at least indifferent being who is all knowing enough not to care about miniscule things like you.

The opposite of the terrible things people do in the name of religion are the wonderful things people do in name of religion. Building orphanages, opening shelters, manning soup kitchens. I adore this about humanity. The snag is that I hate that people need God as the motivator and justification. Or worse, that recipients are pressured to believe to receive. That grosses me out in so many ways.
In my humble opinion, if there is a just and caring god then we should all be able to sit back and enjoy. It is because we are all humans and subject to the hardships and opportunities that come with this physical world that we should be helping one another out.

I know what I’ll do. I’ll start a secular organization dedicated to volunteerism alone. Since it’ll take a lot of my time I might ask people to give money to help. And to keep us on the same page, ideologically, I’ll probably give a talk once a month or once a week or so. And since it might be hard for people to keep that message in their heads I’ll write a pamphlet or book of some sort that can be used as reference.

PS we were ready to head after the break for a group picture. Miranda refused to be in the group shot and stood grumpily out of frame 😂😂😂 I think she was hoping for a solo shoot.



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It goes to Intent

Alternative titles:
Are you fucking serious right now?
I'm raising a thug
Why we can't have nice things
Kids are the Worst
Serenity now

I don't even know what to say about this.

Let's set the scene.
Andrew was coming off a phenomenal weekend.



There is a reason they are so cute.

On Saturday morning we had a birthday party for a friend's daughter who turned three. That party was the first time I clearly saw how some of the HARD work that had been three was starting to come together for Andrew. For whatever reason stealing was rampant at this party. Swift and at every corner. And kids (younger) kept stealing stuff (food, balls, coloring supplies) from Andrew. Adults dealt with it but his reaction was exactly what we've been trying to work on. He was rightfully pissed but held it together so beautifully and he never retaliated and as far as I could tell was never the thief. He had a lot of fun despite the injustices.
Three has been rough. He is such a mix of know it all/bossypants and desperately seeking closeness to us as he realizes how confusing the world is. Both of those are cute and charming in their own way but together it is dizzying and frustrating for us.

But this weekend it was clicking! We had a sleepover Saturday/Sunday and he was a fun and gracious host. He was excited to have her and shared his stuff and us so well.

So this morning.
I had a pretty bad headache but otherwise our morning was clicking along. When I drive them to daycare I get Andrew out first and then we walk to Miranda's side to get her out. He keeps a hand on the car while I unbuckle Miranda and then we hold hands through the parking lot. EVERY DAY.

Today I look down and there is a circle drawn with a rock on our car*. I was SEETHING with rage. My kid somehow managed to key my car in the five seconds it takes to extract his sister. Seriously.

Immediately the two voices in my head were a competition between LIVID and a reasonable jerk who kept reminding me that to him the infraction does not involve a monetary or long term issue. I saw him seeing how upset I was, apologizing for "not listening" and being genuinely contrite. But I was losing my mind inside.

Drop off was curt. And likely the blood pressure spike shifted my headache into a full blown, nausea and everything migraine.

When I picked him up we had a talk about things that an apology can't fix. I'm sure we all had this conversation around something glass and precious of our parents that we broke. Mine was when I cut up one of my mom's favorite photos for a collage. She was so mad and I didn't get it- I was making something for her.

In that respect I guess I should be glad that this was not something irreplaceable. I attempted a scratch buffing treatment that possibly helped.

My other unreasonable reaction was/is something like shame. Like, WTF, is my kid a vandal? Is this where his life of crime begins? Where did we go wrong. Which is dumb because he doesn't have any context for body damage and BBV.

Eventually my migraine subsided and I got to pick the kids up early for a dr appointment for Miranda. After that we went to the park. Andrew has spent the evening being his usual self with what seems like a few extra random kisses and snuggles.

I'm proud of myself for my outward reaction and disappointed with myself for my inner one (all of the alternative titles above). I sort of feel like we've leveled up in parenting and I have not found any cheat codes.



Sorry child #2. I'm onto the "kill em with cuteness" plan. But good effort.


*the O was about 6" long. it was not our brand new car and it is a surface scratch which can probably be dealt with pretty easily. BUT STILL
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Pollyanna

Things are improving (at a snails pace) in the getting Andrew to not be afraid of his room front.
The process has involved more of his sleeping in our room then his entire life to this point combined.

He comes in and sleeps in a little cot near our bed.

If I'm playing the glad game I'd call out this:

The night Andrew was born (wee morning I should say) when we all finally were alone and turned out the lights, hours old Andrew was in a newborn sleepy fog, Michael was in an exhaustion coma and I was wide awake on adrenaline and hormones.

The two of them on either side of me.

I just sat there looking at them. My family. By choice, by luck, by miracle. It was pretty amazing.

And tonight and a few times in the past weeks I've found myself in the same position. And it is still pretty amazing.





Oh- and now flanked with this silly girl in the next room. So bizarre and amazing.










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Shit

Shit.
My friend died.
Suddenly and even more sudden to me since I didn't know she'd gotten sick.

Man, this was one of the really good ones. I can't believe the world doesn't have them anymore.

I'm realizing by the outpouring on her Facebook page how she was one of those friends that you feel like you have a special relationship with but it turns out they made all of their relationships special.

This was one of the first friendships I made in Washington and in a lot of ways she was what helped me through those early days. We worked together and bonded over lunchtime hummus and a big lab move.

She helped me buy the last beater car I've owned. She was the one who encouraged me to try pho instead of bun at Vietnamese restaurants- and changed my impression of that dark murky broth forever. She ate the radicchio out of all of my salad mixes. She fielded my IM's at work when I was bored or hungry.

She showed me Seattle proper. She was a native and mostly loved this place. We clubbed on capital hill. Ate food on the Ave. We had a standing date to do a stairs workout in capital hill then Pho and a movie. She made me watch scary foreign films. She let me tag along to different interesting things her more artsy friends were doing. We went to step aerobics.

This was the first friendship where we both talked about relationships and how much we wanted one and how for our self-conscious selves it was a true struggle.

We went on vacation together to Maui and she tolerated my white knuckles while we attempted to drive up volcanoes and approximately 1/10th of the road to Hana. The only girlfriend's type trip I've ever done. We took surf lessons and attempted to beach in rainy Maui weather.



I watched (and I hope supported) as she found her passion, went to school for it and moved to Denver to make a life.

We texted, IM'd and Facebook messaged.

She met both of my babies and ate dinner at both of our homes.

I had 100% taken for granted that we'd wind up in the same city. Her family and heart were here.

I'm going to miss her so much.


She was a great example of how even though you're shy you have to push out of your comfort zone to make a difference in things you care about.





I'm not ready not to have this person in my life anymore. I'm heartsick about the things they never got to do. I'm sad for the world not to have this goofy, passionate, generous, opinionated, fiercely loyal and exceedingly loving person here.


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Relentlessness

Inalways guessed that the biggest challenge for me in parenthood would be the sheer relentlessness of it. Unlike many of my other guesses I was absolutely right.

I'm finding myself becoming weirdly unreasonable with Andrew because it feels like it is constantly something. And for some reason I'm like "dude, I kinda thought we'd figured most stuff out for you. Pull it together THREE YEAR OLD" (sarcasm font used)

Last night* was one of those relentless ones.

Michael was out of town and this is the email I sent him:
Oh man, I was a mom disaster last night. It was clearly my fault because when Ali was asking how it was going yesterday I was too positive. I was saying what a great week we were having. Andrew has honestly been a total delight and drop offs have been good. Checklist and bed time were awesome on Monday and Tuesday. But man I totally failed last night.

After I put Miranda down, he ate cereal and had two glasses of water (foreshadowing) and we chatted before bed. Checklist was great but then you witnessed the “I don’t want to be alone”/”what if I’m scared”/etc. I thought talking to you had helped but no, we tried starting over with checklist stories and trying again, I sat and sang to him until he seemed calm and sleepy- all fails . Finally I turned on his light and said he was free to play and I was going to bed.(here is where you might be annoyed at me if this bites us in the ass but bear with me) I left our bedroom door open and I was lying in bed and I see a little face in the hall and I told him to come lay with me. Truth be told, it helped me sleep better and we were both out like lights. Until 3am when he wakes me to say he wet his pants- and our bed.

I got him new jammies and told him he would have to lay in his bed. He starts SCREAMING as I walk back to our room. I definitely yelled and asked a dumb question to a tired 3.5 year old ( “what do you want us to do Andrew?”, which he had no idea, he was as tired as I was and frustrated too.) He screams some more until Miranda starts screaming. Then I cried. I sat in his chair and cried. He sat with me for a few minutes then laid down, he seemed a little sad and maybe confused at why I was crying. I did apologize and tell him that I was tired and sad he couldn’t get to sleep. He was quiet, Miranda had settled back down and then I was up feeling like SHIT for about an hour (interrupted by one call for me saying he heard a loud sound). Then I slept next to his pee.

We were out of milk and I wanted a fresh start this morning- so we got up and dressed and out the door in 15 minutes and went and had Starbucks for breakfast. They were two of the happiest, cutest, chattiest kids ever and it was lovely and wonderful. Drop off was great. I went home and showered and was to work without trouble.

I’m not sure the moral of that story. I suck? I don’t try hard enough and I suck? I try, but still suck? I try, but still suck but hopefully he knows that even if I suck I love him?

Ugh.

Since then he is now apparently afraid to be alone in bed.



Things were going great! He even invented blackberry tacos.


And it makes me totally sad for him and I can actually totally relate to that feeling.

But it also is an example of how, even when the hard work fades to the background and you are just in the moment enjoying things something will pop up to show you that this gig is truly never ending.

I'm not handling this one well (mostly because it is sucking the life out of me to spend the 1-2 hours we have after they presumably are in bed dealing with this rather than get a little alone/couple/housework/paperwork time). Luckily Michael is handling it with a cooler kinder head- I handled our last crisis so I don't feel entirely terrible about this.

But yeah. Parenting is fucking relentless. And like aging that is better than the alternative.

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*this was last Wednesday so now we are a week into this situation

I LOST my shit.

My flight to San Diego was cancelled while we sat at the gate. I'd taken a Lyft to the airport. It was a 9:30 flight and the only one that would get me to SAN in time for my 8:30 training start time.
And I LOST my shit.

I feel like this type of stress test is a good measure of my mental state. Because I like to think that when I'm in a good place I am usually pretty good at adapting or at least seeing the absurdity. But on Monday night I honestly felt completely crushed.
It was like suddenly a loud chorus of all the ways I was fucking everything up started running on repeat in my head. Late for the course that I was already unsure about- hadn't driven to the airport so that was an extra expense-already said goodbye to the kids so now I was going to mess up Michael's flow-rebooked on a 6am flight so I was definitely going to be exhausted.

And the truly insidious part of it was that once I figured out my plan-hotel near the airport that cost less than another round trip Lyft-resigned about being late to course-apologized to Michael for being a spaz, then I was SO mad at myself for not being able to deal with the situation like a functional adult. And frankly, a functional adult with the means to pay for adjustments. I felt like such an asshole for being such a baby.

I was still dogging myself pretty hard through my flight but once I was breathing San Diego air and found that my rental car had been given away I had to let it go and at least try to laugh at myself.

I need to keep myself from being in such a low state that I can't function. I give myself enough credit to say that when I'm in my right mind, I am more mentally tough. So now gotta stay in that right mind.


Sent from my iPhone


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3.5 yr old musings

Andrew had a quarter he was taking to show my mom.
As we drive to her house he asks Michael and I why it has a pirate on it.

We were a bit confused so he clarified.

A flyer-dapter (pterodactyl) on one side and a pirate on the other side.







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America's Finest!

I'm sure I sound like a broken record but since I don't go to San Diego with any marked frequency I figure I can indulge myself when I do.
I freaking love San Diego.
When I got off the plane after what was a tumultuous trip* i could immediately breath in the feel and smell.

My children will never know about walking down the street and hearing eucalyptus bark sloughing off and the crunch of it under foot.


I was by myself for a training course for work. My first time traveling at all since last April, my first time flying away from either kid and my first night away from Miranda period.

I missed those guys a lot.
Andrew made me a bracelet


But I had an awesome trip.
The work stuff was so helpful and energizing. I feel like I have a much better grasp of the technology, how we might use it and importantly, how to help manage expectations around it. It was a hands on lab and it was great to do the experiments with other people and talk true logistics and work flow. It was fun brainstorming potential work flow for my company and even more fun helping others talk out their projects (always 1000X more fun to suggest experiments if you don't have to do them). The training facility was so nice and since they make all of the equipment they had every scientific toy you could imagine.
I told Michael that I would LOVE to work there. It is like being a lab TA with slightly fewer hopeless students.

Gel that you can watch in real time. Eat your heart out.


My down time was lovely too! I took a long walk in the beach each morning. Walking from my hotel through Carlsbad to the beach. Carlsbad is adorable! I didn't know. People who live by the beach are just happier people and it is a great mood booster to stroll along smiling and wishing everyone a good morning. I love seeing the old couples walking hand in hand (as the kids say #couplegoals).





I went and saw TWO movies. Moonlight and Beauty and the Beast...neither was as "out and proud" as the media had led me to believe.

I ate carne asada burritos for 2 of 3 night's dinner. And I met up with my oldest childhood friend for the third.



I wandered Target leisurely, bought a pint of B&J's and ate it in bed watching Queer as Folk on Netflix.

This trip has been a real refresh for me and I hope it sticks. I hope it will help me move on some things that are holding us back at home as far as figuring out childcare and work life balance and such. I hope I can translate the genuine enthusiasm I have about this new project at work into action.

I also feel like it is a hint to me that Michael and I should try to fit in small solo getaways for just such refresh. And one day even a couple getaway.

*travel will be a post of its own
The fog on my final morning walk



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Female stuff

Tmi potential: high

Ok, I often feel like I never got the memo on how to do standard female rituals- hair, makeup, clothes, nails, skin, etc. And how others did regular menstruation was a mystery too.

So have I totally just missed the memo on how amazing a menstrual cup is?

Holy crap, it was awesome. My biggest female fail was I could never figure out how to sleep during my period without it looking like a stab victim was triaged in my bed by morning. It was so gross, disturbing and embarrassing. But I just had my period and only had to wash my sheets by choice!

It is so cool! I was super intimidated by it- size and firmness gave me some serious trepidation. But, I figured if I'm on the menstrual train for reals now I needed to try something new.

I hope next time I will spend les mental energy being amazed and thinking about it. And fewer bathroom trips just to check all is well. But overall I'm pretty stoked and unsure if I missed the memo or what.




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Nuclear option

Andrew just started being into a show called "harry and his bucket full of dinosaurs"









It's cute enough but today it hit me that harry seems to live with just his mom and his nana helps out.

Wow. Can you imagine it?

Sometimes it is really bizarre to me the way my family has shaken out. A married couple with two kids (one son, one daughter even) a house, a cat.

This is not only NOT my personal experience but I can't even think of one example of this arrangement in my immediate circle during my primary school years. Now this is likely due to the village my mom created. It makes sense that families with adult deficiencies ban together to get shit done.

I just never really pictured myself in such a classic family structure. It is a good setup but surprises me sometimes in both good and bad ways.

The good: my mom told me once that the times she missed having a husband weren't the hard things as much as they were the good things. And I sort of get that now. Nobody on the planet other than Michael sees the way these kids shine to us alone. Nobody else fully grasps the goofy pride over the smallest of mundane accomplishments much less the big ones. I thought I did as a doting auntie but it is different (though I also realize that as an aunt I am able to see the good without any underlying crap..so trade offs). I love being able to look at Michael looking at our kids and know what he's feeling.

But it is also nice to have them for the hard stuff. When we were a trio it allowed us to have another adult with us when things are hard and now we can be man-on-man. When I think of the scramble that my poor mom had when one of us was sick or when both of needed to be somewhere at once. Until I had to deal with childcare scramble myself I used to fondly remember the little bed my mom made for my sick self under her desk at work and the sleepy morning drop offs at my aunt’s house because she needed to be at work before school started.

Since Andrew is in a major feisty moment of life ATM I also really enjoy having someone to side-eye and laugh at my kids with. With Michael, I know that I can share any frustrations or incredulity I have while knowing he knows the depth of my love and fondness for the little nut job.


As for the cons there aren't many I can imagine yet. Co-parenting can be somewhat tricky in ways I guess. It is hard enough to know what to do but then to add in another voice. Plus in a single parent household there is one ultimate answer rather than a two person committee (really a poly household would be good for tiebreakers).

I didn't ever imagine myself in such a family. Another piece of evidence that sometimes you just don't know what you want and need in life.





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Here's the thing

I'm not marching today.

I could say it is because I decided the forum thing we went to last night was my action. Or that I wanted to stay with my still kinda sicky family. Or that I feel like my little buddy needed a Saturday morning with the four of us and especially me.

All of that is true but none are why I'm not out there.

I'm sad and mad at us all. I can't get over it. How did this happen. And these marches just baffle and sadden me more because when you see the turn out and the passion it begs the question of why wasn't that enough before the election? What is wrong with us? How did this much fire not ignite when it actually mattered?

Plus there is the fact that i feel like I've been slapped in the face as a woman. Really I do. It's easy when you're surrounded by upstanding men and a kick ass female boss and other phenomenal women to ignore how fucked up the world is. But our president was on tape saying disgusting things about a woman and he was elected. Hillary Clinton still had to apologize for how she dealt with her husband's infidelity while her opponent got little beef for actually being the philanderer. We still absolutely suck at how we treat women as a society, how woman treat each other and how women still have to do the same jobs 100x better to even be considered.

I'm so disheartened. Or was, the stories and images from today's march are somewhat cooling the burn I've had in my gut since the election.

Now I look and am sorry to have missed such an historic and beautiful gathering. I just couldn't. I needed the extra beat to think about things.

My resolution to action is to make it my mission to defeat the only nearby republican congressman. He doesn't represent this region and his party doesn't represent the America i think we deserve.

My first trip to D.C. In 2004 was for the march for women's lives. I guess that's part of it too, I'm sad that we are still doing this.



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2017: digging out

The snow on the ground this morning was symbolic for me. It is a symbol of the figurative digging out that I need to do in 2017. Personally, in my relationships with others, nationally against the pile of crap coming our way.

We tried to do a best of 2016 for our family during dinner last night. I will preserve the answers here for posterity:

Best movie: M&A- Paddington, a-how do dinosaurs eat their food (Christmas gift)

Best trip: A&a- California and the swimming pool. M- pacific beach with the family

Best adventure: all- Dozer Day! Runner up- kids quest

Best month: M-December, A-July or August

We sort of ran out of questions at this point.

One thing I accomplished just under the wire was I put a bookcase in this baby's room FINALLY (like 6 months after I blogged about it).



Bonus Christmas pics











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