little black journal

Ten years ago today, Shane and I said our I do’s.  Wowsers!  Either I’m getting old, or we were just a couple of kids when we got hitched.  Maybe both.

We dropped Juliette off at daycare yesterday and played hooky from work so that we could pay homage to ten years with a kid-free day of marital bliss.  We kicked off the celebration with breakfast at London Plane and probably said more to each other at that meal than we have in the span of the past few weeks. Juliette is insistent on playing a central part in all of our conversations lately (talk to ME, daddy!), and while I love an adorable toddler tale, it limits our subject matter.  It took Shane and I a few minutes to find our footing on grown-up ground, but soon enough we were laughing and then I was soul-baring with tears in my eyes and then we were laughing again, giddy with each other’s undivided attention.  The bill came and we just let it sit there for 20 minutes while we talked some more and I savored another refill of coffee.

We left the restaurant hand-in-hand and thought about going grand with a day of indoor rock-climbing or outdoor exploring, but at 10 am we found ourselves back at home, in our pajamas, spreading blankets out on the living room floor and queuing up a movie.  Talk about bliss!  After we’d vegged and dozed and thoroughly recharged, we visited the Frye art museum to check out their Young Blood exhibit (go see it!) and popped into the Chop Shop for happy hour bubbly cocktails, toasting to ten years past and decades to come.  It was a decidedly quiet day, not quite the trip to Paris I’d envisioned years ago for our milestone anniversary, but still, it was perfect.

Our friend Steve, best man at our wedding, has been holding onto our written vows since our wedding day and sent them to us in the mail this week.  As Shane and I held the wrinkled pieces of paper in our hands today and re-read the promises that were made a decade ago by a couple of starry-eyed twenty-somethings, we smiled at all the ways we’ve both fallen short of and exceeded our wildest dreams.  We’ve done good.  And we’ve done…not so good, sometimes hurling hurtful words when the going got tough or falling into the roommate rut when the going got slow.  But we’re in this for the long haul, Shane and I.  We’ll keep relishing in the joys, doing our best to band together when life feels hard or just incredibly mundane.  I imagine some day we’ll look back and think, “Ten years?  We were just getting started.”  And then we’ll take another bite our Nutella crepe as the lights of Paris glimmer on the Seine.  😉

Ahhhhh weekends: a precious time to recharge and reconnect after a long week.

Riiiiiiight.

Juliette woke up at 5:45 on Saturday morning.  I think she was in time-out twice before 7 am.  Shane and I had made grand plans for a fun family hike in the mountains that day, but when I came out to join them in the car, I found Jules laying on the floor of the back seat, scowl on her face and arms stubbornly crossed, and Shane on the verge of losing his shit.  We almost called it a day.  At 7:45.

We pressed on, though, as the thought of shuttering ourselves indoors with our little monster was hardly anything to look forward to.  We sweet-talked Jules into her car seat, put on some music, handed her an apple and a couple of books, and just north of Seattle it seemed the toddler tides were turning.  We all sang along to “Ho Hey” and decided it was going to be a great day (Lord have mercy, please make this a great day!).

We arrived at the Heather Lake trailhead around 9 am and loaded up our backpacks – I carried snacks, water, and sunscreen while Shane hauled the kid (I got the better end of the deal, for sure).

The trail was a little more rugged than we anticipated, but Shane channeled his inner mule and plowed right on ahead.

Oh, and look who came along for the ride – three Rust boys!  And a dog with a gimp leg!  (That’s Dexter, their weekend dog-sitting charge.)

Juliette has no idea how good she has it.  Actually, judging from that face, maybe she does.

I had my qualms about setting out on a five-mile hike with three kids and a gimpy dog, but the boys scrambled over the rocks like little mountain goats, chattering happily as I struggled to catch my breath.

PLEASE let that be the light at the end of the tunnel!

And…voila.

We sat on the shore of Heather Lake and dipped our toes in the freezing cold water, thankful for our long trek’s stunning pay-off.

Once we’d hydrated, we set out for the short loop around the lake.  It was an easy walk and the perfect place to let Juliette do some “hiking” of her own.

The kids were stoked about the patches of snow along the trail.  A snowball fight in May – who’d a thought?!

Juliette spent much of the day yelling, “Gryffin!  Hold my hand!”  He was so sweet to oblige.

We found a shady spot on the water’s edge to stop and eat lunch.  Juliette snuggled into my lap and I marveled at how lucky we are to live in the PNW.

Soon enough, it was time to hit the long dusty trail back to the car.  These two make hiking looking so fun.  And deceptively easy.

Juliette started getting antsy toward the end, so we pulled her out for the last half mile and let her grab her own walking stick.  Ok, actually Shane lost his balance and she kind of fell out, but thankfully, no one was hurt.  I tell you, we’re a bunch of troopers.

MADE IT!  It was a long, exhausting day with a touch-and-go start, but a grand success in the end.  Kudos to Shane for upping the adventure ante – he always seems to know just how far to push us.

For Mother’s Day, I asked for nothing more than rest.  Juliette obliged and didn’t stir until 8:30 on Sunday (penance for the previous morning’s obscenely early wake-up).  Shane took her downstairs while I slowly rolled out of bed and I came down to find the two of them busy in the kitchen, Shane at the stove and Jules at the coffee grinder.

Shane served me perfectly crispy bacon and just-gooey-enough poached eggs with my fresh-brewed coffee and then Juliette and I piled blankets and pillows on the living room floor so that we could snuggle up with a movie.  Once we’d sufficiently vegged, we headed out for an easy family bike ride.  We drove over to Marymoor Park and then hopped on the Sammamish River Trail.

I’m getting on board with this bike thing.  Particularly when it involves biking toward french fries and beer – Redhook, here we come!

It was so serene out there, all gray and green, cool but not cold.

We rolled up to the brewery just in time to beat the lunch rush.  Juliette was a lovely little dining companion and could hardly believe her luck when Shane told her that our next stop was for ice cream.  Mother’s Day was suddenly right up there with Christmas on her list of favorite holidays!

French fry high?

Shane had read good things about Shug’s, a fancy new ice cream parlor in downtown Seattle, and it did not disappoint.  I recommend a scoop of the blueberry.  And a scoop of the coffee.

And oh my word, the cookies and cream!

I’m so thankful I get to be this kid’s mama.  No doubt, it’s not all smiles and snuggles, but my word, she’s amazing.

I sneaked away in the afternoon for a pedicure and coffee with La Verne and made it home for a mellow dinner and goodnight kisses.  Shane fell asleep at 8:00 and I finished out season 6 of Gilmore Girls.  Ahhhhh…weekends: they really can be so, so good.

Shane has been working long, stressful hours lately and I’ve had a few work-related evening commitments over the past couple of weeks, leaving our schedules uncomfortably full.  I’m feeling mired in the logistics of the day to day: “If I drop off Jules on Monday and Wednesday and pick her up on Wednesday and Thursday, can you do the rest?  And how about leftovers for dinner on Monday, takeout on Tuesday, and takeout leftovers on Wednesday?”

We’re making it work, but by last weekend Shane and I found ourselves desperately in need of some quality family R&R.  An island getaway, perhaps?  Maui sounded nice.  The flight did not.  Whidbey it is, then!  On the ferry we went!

It’s a short ferry ride from Mukilteo to Clinton, but Jules made the most of it, jetting from one end of the boat to the other.  And back again.

Serenity!

We breakfasted at Useless Bay Coffee Company - bacon and eggs taste so much better when eaten on a sunny patio.

Jules was enamored with this glass sculpture garden next door.  I wasn’t sure I should let her pet the glass turtle, as she’s not the gentlest kid on the block, but we made it through with zero casualties.

Bellies full, we drove over to Ebey’s Landing for a family hike.  The sky was as blue as I’ve ever seen it, the fields popping with yellow and green.

Some friends gave this backpack to us a few months ago – I was skeptical as to whether Jules would fit in it, or whether Shane could handle 38 pounds of toddler on his shoulders, but apparently she did and he could!

I know, it’s not Hawaii, but dang, PNW!  Way to bring your A-game!

Juliette was a champ throughout the duration of the two-mile trail down to the beach, happily snacking and singing from her perch.  Shane was an all-out super-hero, “grimacing with grace” as his shoulders bore the burden of his daughter’s contentedness.

Finally!  The promised land!

The beach baby rears her pretty head:

We slowly made our way back toward the car, and then just flopped down in the warm sand for 30 minutes to eat pretzels and play with rocks.  I could have sat here all afternoon.

Jules could have happily hung at the beach all day as well, until she heard mention of a trip into town to get some ice cream, at which point she was all too eager to hit the road.  

It was 2:30 by the time we left Coupeville, which is past Juliette’s regular naptime, so we crossed our fingers that she’d catch some Z’s on the car ride home.  Sure enough, 2 minutes into our drive, this happened:

It is incredibly satisfying when a day trip with a toddler goes even better than you’d hoped – we were rolling the dice when we set out for a full-day ordeal.  But it was just what we all needed, active but leisurely, sunny and warm and tantrum-free.  Family reboot complete!

A smorgasboard of photos from the past couple of weeks:

One of my very favorite kids turned six last week and we celebrated with pizza and popsicles at the park.  I remember when this sweet boy was just a little roly-poly of a thing – now he’s SIX, all grown-up and super-cool.

Still awfully sweet, though…

Most of the attendees were boys in the 6-10 year range and Jules couldn’t quite keep up, but she was pretty thrilled to watch from the sidelines and get a glimpse of future shenanigans.

Don’t even think about it, kiddo!  Too high, too high!

Best to stick with frolicking in the grass with her pint-sized buddy!

Love you, Z!  It’s such a pleasure to watch you grow.

Shane, Jules, and I spent a sunny Sunday morning hanging out at Lake Union, watching the boats and sea planes go by.

Girl knows how to accessorize!

And then a sunny Sunday evening at Seward Park – suddenly beach weather is upon us!

These two were giddy with the promise of summer on the horizon (it’s a distant horizon, but still very exciting!).

I’m loving these longer daylight hours – we can push Juliette’s bedtime back a bit on the evenings we want to take a spin around the block after dinner.  She’s slowly getting the hang of her balance bike, although it seems she usually decides she’s done riding once we’ve reached the farthest point from home.  Of course.

We checked out Montlake Playground on Friday with our buddies – Juliette was quick to set up shop in the “kitchen” and make me a sausage with chocolate.

This.  Kid’s.  Smile.

Little O turns three tomorrow and we celebrated with him on Saturday morning at a Top Pot Caspar Babypants concert.  He is Caspar’s biggest fan and bopped along to every single song.

Jules was not so impressed with the music, but the donut with sprinkles was a major hit.  Points to Shane for not complaining once through the whole thing – this is decidedly not his scene!

Shane is bound and determined to make a biking family out of us, so he borrowed Nancy’s bike for me on Saturday afternoon and corralled Jules and me over to Seward Park for a short ride.  Truth be told, I would have preferred to tuck myself into the bike trailer with Juliette and her books, but still, it was fun.

The mid-ride stop for snacks by the water was a plus.

Yesterday was rainy and gray – we spent a lot of time cuddled up inside with hot tea and Finding Nemo.  Juliette and I did venture out for a quick run up to Jefferson Park - I haven’t jogged with the stroller in awhile and barely made it up the hill with old bag of books.  As I huffed and puffed, she called back, “What’s wrong, Mommy?”  I said, “You’re so heavy, baby!”  She sighed dramatically and said, “I know!  I’m so tired!”  Life is rough, huh, kid?

In spite of the pink fluffy trees and the sunshiny weekends, I’ve found myself feeling funky these past few weeks.  No single thing has me down, but a handful of stresses and sadnesses have left me anxious and blue.  And I noticed over the weekend that I wasn’t just being mopey and withdrawn, I was being impatient with Jules and cold toward Shane.  It was time to nip this funk in the bud.  I needed a reboot, a little time to introspect, a day off.

I’m pretty scroogey with my vacation days, hoarding my time off for…what, exactly?  A spur-of-the-moment three-week trip to Paris?  Ha!  I figured I could spare a day for the sake of self-care and told my team on Tuesday afternoon that I’d catch them on Thursday.  Now…what to do with nine luxurious hours of freedom?  I thought about going shopping or working on a house project or just staying in bed all day with a book, but decided I’d mix things up and head to the mountains for a hike.  I dropped Juliette off at daycare on Wednesday morning and drove east to the Little Si trailhead in North Bend, feeling so very Carpe Diem-ish.

Shane and I hiked this trail back in 2009, but I’d forgotten how rugged it was.  Or maybe I’d just forgotten what hiking is really like?  I mean, it’s been awhile.  Still, scrambling over those rocks felt good – I was 36 pounds lighter without a toddler in tow!

Brace yourselves – it was a moss bonanza out there I got shutter-happy trying to capture the infinite shades of green.

Seriously though, this moss!

Finally, just as my ankles started to get wobbly and my knees started to ache, the light at the end of the tunnel…

Satisfaction.

This guy took my spot…

Not to worry though – I found another monster of a rock a little further up that had my name on it.  I pulled out an apple and just sat, the crunch of my Fuji seeming like the only sound for miles.

After 15 minutes of lonesome zen, I was joined by another couple who recommended that I check out the Boulder Garden Loop on my way back down.  I took swig from my water bottle and was off.

Something about the word “garden” in Boulder Garden Loop conjured up images of easy, meandering, flat pathways.  WRONG.

But I huffed and I puffed to another summit and then flew down the hill, satisfyingly bone-tired by the time I reached the car.

This little out-of-character foray into the woods did me a world of good – I’m not completely funk-free, but I’m on the path toward gratitude and contentedness.  And let me tell you, that path is covered in moss.

I’ve always looked forward to my mom and dad’s visits to Seattle, but I’ve longed for quality time with them even more in the years since I’ve had Juliette.  It’s a good feeling, watching people love your kid, and grandparents are especially good at doting, at hugging and playing and bearing witness to the fact that you have the sweetest, smartest, most amazing child on earth.

Thankfully, grandparents are also good at keeping their cool when that sweet kid turns into the whiniest, clingiest, most tantrum-prone of toddlers.  Jules was on a definite mood swing rampage this past weekend!  Way to keep it real, kiddo.  So maddeningly real.

But hey, let’s dwell on the highlights:

We had a good time running along the blossom-lined sidewalks of Lake Washington Boulevard on Friday morning.

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On Saturday we all hopped on Lightrail to take advantage of the recently-expanded tracks and catch a ride to Capitol Hill.

We spent awhile at Cal Anderson – Jules hit the playground while my mom and I sipped our tea and coffee from Caffe Vita.

When Juliette was feeling stubborn and disagreeable, we found that the only tear-free way to move her along was for Grandma or Grandpa to challenge her to race.  On your marks, get set, GO!

We spent the rest of the afternoon at home, sidewalk-chalking, kicking the soccer ball around, and cracking open cold drinks on the back porch.

Sunday was another beautiful day, so we ventured to Kubota Gardens for a green-and-pink fix.

My mom and dad hit the road back to Oregon on Sunday afternoon.  As we said our good-byes, I felt that overwhelming urge to plead Juliette’s case, as she’d had another doozy of a morning.  I wanted to shout, “She’s usually not like this, I promise!  She’s such a sweet, funny, affectionate little girl!  She loves you so much but is just having a hard time showing it!”.  I bit my tongue, though.  I mean, they’re her grandparents.  They know the drill.

Back at the beginning of January we vaguely started talking about preschool options for Juliette – she’s been really happy at her current school, but it’s a small, humble space and we thought this coming Fall would be a good time to introduce her to a new environment and expand her horizons a bit.  Sure, the next school year wouldn’t start for another eight months, but we wanted to be ahead of the game and take some time to weigh our options.  Turns out we almost missed the game, as open houses and preschool fairs and application deadlines all happen in January and February!  We were quickly swept up in the frenzy and after much research, decided to apply to a couple of programs.  One place in particular really piqued my interest - after speaking with their director and touring their school, I eagerly texted Shane:  “Such a great space!  Art rooms and music lessons!  Super-thoughtful teaching!  Organic meals!  I WANT IN!”  We moved forward with the application process, excited and hopeful despite our knowledge that the Seattle preschool circuit is very (very) competitive.

Last Friday a letter came in the mail with the preschool’s name in the upper left corner.  I had a brief flashback to the way my heart fluttered when I was eighteen years old, tearing open letters from the colleges I had applied to.  I pulled out a single piece of paper (never a good sign!) and then my heart sank.  “We’re sorry, but…”

Damn.

The past week has been a flurry of unhappy, unseemly emotions as that letter has hung heavy in my mind.  I’ve lost sleep and shed tears and probably driven Shane bat-shit crazy as I’ve processed the rejection, surprising even myself at how completely nuts I’ve been.

There were twinges of guilt and shame that Shane and I can’t give Juliette the best of the best.  Did I really do all that I could to get her in?  Was it my essay?  I must not have adequately conveyed her joyous, fun-loving character!   And maybe I should have offered more of myself to the school?  I could have volunteered to take time off of work a couple of times a month to teach art classes or help with playground duty or disinfect Legos or something!  Have I failed her in some way?

There was also a bit of self-righteous indignation, as my ultra-protective mama bear instinct wondered how they could turn down a chance to engage with my sweet, bright child.  Screw them, with their high-falutin’ speak of philosophy and pedagogy!  They don’t know what they’re missing!

There were about three hours of irrational fear, where I wondered if Juliette would be academically challenged for years to come if we don’t get her into a high-end top-notch preschool.

There was a whole lot of sadness that she won’t be going to school with her best friend next year, as he incidentally did secure a spot in the coveted program.  It’s been so much fun to see N and J share a class for the past year – his is the first name from Juliette’s lips every evening when we ask her who she played with that day.  La Verne and I have made something of a game of corroborating their toddler tales, texting each other things like “N said he put chips in Juliette’s hair today?  Tell her he’s sorry!”.  Since the time they were born, N and J’s lives have been gradually knit closer and closer together, and in a lot of ways, they’ve brought us parents right along with them.  Now it feels like we’re taking a step back – I’m certain we’ll all remain close, but dang, the classmates gig was awfully sweet!

And, for the love of God, when did our baby become preschool-age, anyway?  That parental passage-of-time melancholy is thick these days as we’ve watched our girl grow more independent, as our conversations about preschool have led into conversations about kindergarten (should she start elementary school in 2018 or 2019?) and then into conversations about high school graduation and even leaving home (if she starts kindergarten in 2018, she might move out when she’s 17!).  Things are changing all too fast – several of the buddies Juliette and I hang out with on Friday mornings are heading off to their own Friday preschool programs next year and I’m longing for the days when we were all just a bunch of new moms on maternity leave, watching our babies crawl around together.  I let Juliette nap in my lap a couple of days ago, because man, it felt so good to hold her so close.

I’m slowly finding my way toward acceptance – it looks like an exciting transition just isn’t in the cards for us this year.  Juliette will stay at her current school and I’m daily reminding myself that she’ll be fine.  She’ll be in a place that’s safe, where she’s known and loved.  Her current school might not serve organic veggies at snack time, but the cook adores Juliette and gave her the friendliest, longest embrace when Juliette handed her a homemade card at Christmastime.  They might not have a formal “anti-bias curriculum”, but she’ll be surrounded by teachers and students from a variety of cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds.  And as I watched Juliette interact with several of her classmates on a field trip to the library last week, I sensed how very much at home those kids feel in one another’s company, how easily they put their arms around each other and how happily they danced when the librarian cranked up the music.  Yes, she’ll be fine.

Which I suppose means I will be, too.

Project Tidy continued last weekend with an emptying of our bathroom cupboards and our linen closet, followed by a go-through of Juliette’s toy collection.  There actually wasn’t a whole lot to discard from her toy shelf, but pulling everything out, putting all the stuffed animals and puzzles and matchbox cars into one big pile, was a good opportunity for me to stand back and consider my philosophy on playthings.  I read Simplicity Parenting last year and could only vaguely remember my favorite passages, so I took a second look at my highlights on Sunday and recommitted to a few main goals:

Don’t accumulate, don’t buy on a whim.

“To a child, a mountain of toys is more than something to trip over.  It’s a topographical map of their emerging worldview.  The mountain, casting a large symbolic shadow, means “I can choose this toy, or that, or this one way down here, or that: They are all mine!  But there are so many that none of them have value.  I must want something else!”  This worldview shapes their emotional landscape as well; children given so very many choices learn to undervalue them all, and hold out – always – for whatever elusive thing isn’t offered.  “More!” “

I love watching Juliette tear into gifts and get so much satisfaction from seeing her happily engage with a new toy.  But we’ve learned that her interest is fleeting, that she’d rather have a few precious playthings that allow her to imagine and pretend, like her MagnaTiles and her baby doll, than a mountain of “single-use” stuff.  It’s tempting to give in when she asks for that super-cuddly teddy bear from Costco or that cute wooden cash register from IKEA, but I’ve learned to stand my ground (and then treat her to a cookie instead!).  She gets toys for her birthday and on holidays, maybe an irresistible trinket or book every couple months, but other than that, “not right now, honey” is the party line.  If she does get something new, something old has gotta go – real estate is scarce on this toy shelf!

Keep it real.

“I think it is important that, whenever possible, what a child touches be real.  A plastic hammer has no solidity, no weight or heft in the hands of a five-year-old.  Even small versions of real tools are preferable to such blatantly false imitations…With such play comes the bonus of genuine involvement and mastery.”

Juliette is free to rummage in our tool drawer and our kitchen cupboards for playthings when her usual toys aren’t piquing her interest – cabinets and drawers that are off-limits are either locked or out of reach so that we don’t have to worry about her wielding knives or wine glasses.  She spent a solid 20 minutes under the dining room table with a screwdriver and a set of Allen wrenches a few weeks ago, shouting “I fix it, Mama!” as she tinkered away.  When I tell her I’m hungry, she’ll pull out a pot and a wooden spoon and throw together a batch of “spicy pepper soup” (main ingredients are puzzle pieces and spare change).  I love watching her flex her imagination as she gives new meaning to the contents of our junk drawer.  Letting her play with “real” things also goes a long way in helping me stick to objective #1, as I’m not buying a kid’s version of the stuff we already have on hand.

Let her “help”.

“Children love to be busy, and useful.  They delight in seeing that there is a place for them in the hum of doing, making, and fixing that surrounds them…As small beings they can feel like inferior, passive observers of all that happens around them.  A sense of industry – of busyness and purpose – counteracts feelings of overwhelm.”

I’ve mentioned before how much Jules loves helping me in the kitchen, and while her assistance usually doubles my cooking and clean-up time, I do my best to let her in on the action.  I know she’s facing several years of being told she’s not old enough or big enough to do grown-up things, but she sure can stir with the best of them!  Now if only she could scrub a toilet…

March in Seattle.  Often gray, often rainy, but dappled with sunshine and color and the promise of brighter days to come.  The weather today was wild – gray then gorgeous then pouring down rain.  We made those sunshiny moments count, swinging by the UW Quad before church this morning to check in on the cherry blossoms, which seem to be just a few days from peaking.

We were there for about 15 minutes when the skies opened up and we had to dart to the car to take refuge.  First, though, one quick toss!

As we were leaving church, we got a text from Jack and La Verne, asking if we’d be up for a romp through the arboretum since the skies had cleared again.  We headed that way and strolled down the blossom-line paths, warily eyeing the gray clouds rolling in while the kids reveled in being outside.

Sure enough, 20 minutes into our walk we felt the first sprinkles and made it back to the car in the nick of time, buckling our seat belts as big fat raindrops pelted our windshield.

Spring, you’re such a tease.

I love a good winter walk through the Mercer Slough…

And did I mention those reddish-browns?