Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Ski Trip Surprise

Experiences and memories mean more than stuff. Christmas morning the girls found out that instead of stuff under the tree, we were taking a trip to Colorado to go skiing. On December 30, 2016 we flew to Denver. We stayed the night and some members of my family may or may not have spent a few hours Pokemon Go hunting.

The next day we drove to Salida. That evening we went to Monarch Ski Mountain to witness the New Year's Eve Torch Light Parade and fireworks. It was amazingly cool. And very, very cold outside. 

We woke up the next day ready to ski. And quickly realized that our selfie game was far from strong.

Oh wait! Maybe the selfie skills are improving!

Nope. Spoke too soon. Razor looks like he's run into a few trees with his helmet and sunglasses all wonky but really I think he's trying hard not to drop his phone off the ski lift.

We took lessons in the morning. Razor and I were thrilled how easily skiing came back to us and amazed at how quickly the girls picked it up. The tube carpet ride to get to the top of the bunny hill is a new invention since the last time I skied. I want to build one on the sledding hill back home. . .

We spent several days skiing Monarch Mountain and loved, loved, loved it. The snow was perfect. The runs were fantastic. The staff was super friendly. And we never, ever waited in a long line for the ski lifts.

This was one of the gorgeous views from our cabin.

Spending time with my family, experiencing nature and exploring new places. Bring on 2017!


Thursday, December 15, 2016

Catch up

So, December is shaping up nicely. With baking, quilting, cross stitching, holiday preparations and the hot chocolate station added to the kitchen. It's been cold and rainy which makes me feel warm and cozy inside my home and inspired to do all the above listed things. Win, win!

It's been weeks since the election and I've been wandering around life trying to make sense of it. I read so much news before the election and have taken almost a cold turkey approach since. So much to process. I've pulled back and sat wide eyed and dumbfounded. My stillness feels like self preservation. In these cozy December days, I'm hugging my family, celebrating good, appreciating people, ideas and differences, smiling at strangers, and vowing that my daily routine will show love, curiosity, compassion and gratefulness.  To all.

Less hate. More love.

Happiest of holidays to each of you.


Tuesday, December 13, 2016

So, this happened.

And I'm going to spend the next year teaching her how to drive. Didn't I just finish with the first one? Sheesh.


Tuesday, November 22, 2016

You're 15

I'm making you chicken fettuccine alfredo for dinner. Cause pasta is, hands down, your favorite kind of food. Like, any kind of pasta. Even cooked pasta just poured into the colander in the sink to drain. You are constantly sticking your fingers in there sneaking noodles.

This smile. This expression. You. It's exactly how the world sees you. Happy. Relaxed. Funny. Confident. Encouraging others and so supportive of their achievements. 

On the topic of achievements, you've got many. Start a rigorous high school program? Handle it like a pro. Decide you want to run competitively? Make it to State your first year. Encourage your group to take a project in a new direction? Be asked to present it to the whole school.

Confident and humble. Determined and inclusive. Great qualities by anyone's definition. They are the very essence of you. When I look back at what I've written past years on your birthday I see it as a common theme. It's just who you are through and through.

So, we will be eating chicken fettuccine alfredo shortly. Along with a salad. You and I were standing in the produce section of the grocery store thinking salad would be the perfect side dish. My hand was reaching for Romaine and you said that although you know I like more healthy lettuce options, you really were hoping for a nice Iceberg. You said "nice Iceberg" the same way a French chef might refer to an expensive bottle of wine. I laughed and grabbed the Iceberg.  For my birthday girl.

I love you.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Break for pie

I'm taking a small break from this space. It's time to gather my thoughts. Hug my loved ones. And eat some pie. Happy Thanksgiving.


Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Squad senior portraits

I happen to know quite a few high school seniors this year. Including one of my own. I had fun photographing them.


Tuesday, November 8, 2016

New phase

This past weekend we traveled to the middle of our state for our youngest to run in the state cross country meet. She's a freshman in high school and this was her first season of Cross Country.

There were 131 runners in our division. She finished 37th. I stood at the finish line with my shoulders scrunched up with nerves and water spilling from my eyes. Just minutes before the gun fired for her race, I watched a girl in a different division trip, fall, try to get back up at least a dozen times and finally crawl across the line. I fought my whole body to keep it from jumping the fence to help that girl. Rules, finishing, placing, pride. Her team still won. And then my daughter's race began and for about 20 minutes, I paced.

Pacing is really all I know in these instances. I never played high school sports. I've never been the mom to two teenage daughters that play soccer and run cross country before this year. Last spring when soccer began and my husband was coaching and my entire family was wrapped up in the sport and were gone for hours on end and spoke in a soccer short-hand language and laughed and struggled and practiced and traveled to games, I paced. Dinner wasn't at a predictable time. I didn't know how to contribute. The three of them were having fun, fun, fun and I felt off kilter.

Soccer ended and my youngest began running. She ran all summer. Miles and miles. Sometimes twice a day. Once school began, my oldest joined the team too. Meets began. There I was pacing. Watching my husband talk and plan and strategize and study and stretch and coach  . . . and bond even more deeply. I love that man. I wonder if this is kin to what he might have felt in those early years when both girls were so dependent on me.

So, I'll continue to pace. And cook meals that can still be shared at whatever hour we find ourselves together. And I'll buy Gatorade and bananas. And probably be the dorky mom that brings cut up oranges for the team. But I'll be there with water spilling from my eyes. Full of love in this new phase I find myself.