finger trap

Yesterday we played hooky.  Mike and I both threw caution to the wind, pushed work aside and took the kids to Raging Waves Waterpark.  It was a great day, although by lunch time the lines were brutal and the lazy river looked more like a crowded Florida beach on spring break that anything remotely relaxing.  Regardless, the kids had a blast, which is all that really matters, and we did, too.

While the girls went off to try another slide, Mike and I reluctantly agreed to ride that river with Finn, once again.  I am not a fan of EXTREMELY crowded public pools, so this was truly a labor of love.  We found two tubes, plunged in, linked up and popped Finn in Mike's lap.

I'm not sure what the deal is with kids of all ages being allowed to walk, run, splash, dive and swim without tubes in the lazy river.  I can't tell you how many times they swam right under my tube, tried to pop up between us or forcefully moved us out of the way so that they could continue their game of chase or chicken.  It was the exact opposite of relaxing (whatever that is.... parenting, maybe?)

In the few moments my mind was actually able to wander while we were shoved and knocked around,  Mike and I linked hands to stay connected to each other.  We weren't holding hands, but instead had our palms both faced downward, with our fingers interlaced and pointing toward each others' wrists.  Each time we were pushed or pulled away from each other, our fingers locked and tightened effortlessly, just like a Chinese finger trap.

It's funny, I thought, a good marriage is like a Chinese finger trap.  (Bear with me here.)  We're linked up and all intertwined, constantly combating things like demanding children, obligations and circumstance that attempt to pull us away from each other.  But the link of a solid marriage is strong, like a Chinese finger trap.  The harder life pulls or pushes, the stronger the bond.  Working together, whatever the goal, is the only option.  So, no matter what life brings, we can face it together, head on, and emerge even better than before.

"Trap" is a definitely a bad word choice and we've certainly faced greater challenges than the lazy river, but you get the idea.  If this is a trap, I'm grateful to be in it.

shoestring living: tips for reviving old routines

My column this week for the GateHouse News Service

For our family, summer is just one more school day away. Parents everywhere are screaming for a change in the routine and I am no different. I’ve announced a moratorium on lunch making, can barely push myself through our get-out-the-door rituals and updated my Facebook status this morning with, “Will this school year ever end?”

Read more.....

go get scared

"Do one thing every day that scares you." - Eleanor Roosevelt

I love a good quote.  In days that I can barely remember my own name in the midst of a merciless schedule, a good quote sticks, moves me and keeps me focused.  I'm sure that has something to do with how important the written word is in my life; when I see a few strung together in a particularly striking way, they have an affect, period.  The one above is a personal favorite.

Let's face it, in average days of carpooling, schedule maintenance, appointment remembering, home management and for many of us, work life, there are too few opportunities to really challenge our limits.  Days melt together, with sore butts from bleacher seating and lots of mind-wracking to get us and our loved ones to the right places at the right times.  There's little time to stand on the proverbial edge and freak ourselves out.

But last Sunday, we did.  Well, Mike actually loved every minute; I'm not sure this qualifies as a "scare" for him.  I, on the other hand, screamed and swore like a truck driver for nearly two straight hours as we rode the Tail of the Dragon through the Smoky Mountains.  Top down and flying at high speed, we experienced what I can only describe as the longest, most thrilling roller coaster ride imaginable.  Only eleven miles in length, the lead up and tail end made it feel much longer.  I was white-knuckled from beginning to end, wondering what I might look like in the professional photographs being taken all along the 11-mile stretch and if the actual explicative I was emitting would be visible on camera. 

This is the same stretch of road that my father-in-law, an expert motorcyclist, drove a few years ago.  He had an accident and miraculously only broke ribs and some pieces off his Harley.  So we knew it was dangerous territory that lied ahead.  We saw crazy wrecks, took corners at top speeds with absolutely no vision of what existed beyond the bend.  We turned 318 times, abruptly.  We flew through the most beautiful mountain forests.  We stopped three times at scenic overlooks to let a terrified minivan driver get further out in front of us, so that we could obtain the FULL EXPERIENCE. And although it might be the most irresponsible thing we could do as parents, we are considering driving home this way from North Carolina in August.  Our youth-filled, fearless kids would probably think the Tail of the Dragon is the coolest thing ever.

Imagine this at 50 mph!

Once we hit rock bottom, the metaphor of the whole experience hit home.  I was thrilled that we survived.  (Mike was just thrilled!)  I placed total trust in my Mario Andretti husband and he delivered (as if there were any doubt.)  We accomplished something totally amazing and out-of-the-box and had an experience like never before.  Even though thoroughly freaked out, we emerged victorious.

(Thanks to www.killboy.com for this awesome image!)

We must remember this feeling.  This free, we-can-do-anything-and-create-our-own-experience-in-this-life-of-ours feeling.  No one else is responsible for what we do, how we grow and what we take away.  Scaring ourselves, catapulting ourselves forward in every way, surviving our fears and then thriving?  We all need just a little bit of that.  Every day.

vacation evaporation

I swear that we were just on a gorgeous mountainside in Asheville, North Carolina in the amazing-in-every-way Grove Park Inn.  I'm sure that we were wandering the stone halls of the Biltmore Estate, drinking indescribably delicious rosemary peach lemonade at the Tupelo Honey Cafe (more on this soon - and yes, I will write a whole post about this lemonade) and taking pictures of things like wild bamboo and winding country roads.  I'm positive that we ate really late dinners and even woke around 9 AM once (oh, the joy of seeing those numbers when I opened my eyes!)  I know all this is true with my rational mind, but the feeling of it is gone, evaporated into memory, where barely any remnants remain.

That's the case with vacations I guess.  Especially coming home to the dreaded end of May, where schedules new and old collide in some kind of laughable matrix of confusion. I don't know why I expected the vacation vibe to continue.  But I did.  And it didn't.

I was so ready to come home and see the kids.  I loved every second as they ran into my arms at school and the bus stop; but reality bites at times, and within moments, life was right back to normal, with all it's ups and downs in tow.  Just the way we love it, I suppose.

We may only have the chance to exchange this reality for the other in brief snippets every few years, so even though it has evaporated, I'll keep my mental stronghold focused tight on the 80+ hours Mike and I had to be grown ups, eat amazing food, talk, dream, live off the grid and the strangling schedules we keep, and reconnect.  And the next time someone pukes in the middle of the night or talks back in that oh-so-wonderful-way, I'll return to that one tiny spot in my mind where the vacation vapors still linger, to keep me going until next time.

Thanks to the best extended family on the planet for making this much needed trip our reality.  We love you beyond words!

Related Posts:
i wish i didn't hate may
surprise!
gaston 2011