She Flies With Her Own Wings

Last Monday, Alex’s 6th Birthday, I was desperately trying to focus solely on him and celebrating.  It was a full day.  My dad and I accompanied the class on a trip to Pizza My Heart for a field trip.  It was a BLAST.  Seriously….free pizza and t-shirts?  On your birthday??? I told the host that he was throwing my kid a free pizza party for his birthday.  Let’s bask in some kindergarten cuteness for a moment…..

Later that afternoon, when Dad and I were trying to recuperate, I was zoning out on Facebook and saw that Katie Daisy, one of my favorite artists, had two new prints out.  The one above made me gasp.  We were on the brink of this week that has been—-a week filled with opening the floodgates and telling folks about things we have held close for a long while.  I was a bundle of nerves and fears.  I had envisioned telling people and gone down every path in my mind of how folks would react.  Enter Katie Daisy’s print, pictured above, and the message, “She Flies With Her Own Wings”.  And it was the OREGON.  STATE.  MOTTO.  Good ‘ol Oregon.  The rebel state.  That land “way out west” filled with adventurers.  Many marred by the scars of long wagon train journeys filled with hopes, dreams and banking on promises of schemey, slimy businessmen no doubt living in the lap of luxury back in the East.  {can you hear the echos of a 4th grade teacher??  Gold Rush can just as easily translate to the Oregon Trail}  This motto was meant to remind people of Oregon’s strength, freedom and independence.  And on Monday….and throughout the week, I have felt almost anything BUT strength, freedom and independence.

I am choosing to trust in the power of that visual image, though.  The monarch.  It is famous for its migration.  We often talked of its symbolism when teaching about Day of the Dead each year.  The monarch would arrive right as the holidays unfolded.  Rebirth and new life even found in the midst of death.  I love this visual reminder and think I might just be purchasing this for many lovely ladies in my life.  The message is inspiring and a reminder that migration and rebirth is part of the cycle.  It is not easy.  But it can be life-giving.  And in those moments where I actually AM experiencing the grace of freedom, independence and strength, it seems to be clear that they can only be gained through the very opposite—– dependence, moments of weakness and vulnerability.

{please visit Katie’s etsy shop, the wheatfield, to find this beautiful print and tons of others you won’t be able to pass up!}

Want to Sign Alex’s Petition to Bring In-and-Out to….Montana?

Matt taught me long ago that the best way to say something hard is to just start out and say it.  After that, you can tell the back story.

So…..we’re moving.

Quick Facts:

Who:  Matt, Myself, Alex, Drew and Sally (she’s is already anxiously pacing in anticipation)

What:  Moving to begin a new job for Matt as Senior Pastor of First Presbyterian Corvallis

Where:  Corvallis, Oregon.  Home of Oregon State University—go, Beavers!

When:  Mid-July-ish

Why:  Well….many reasons wrapped up in a lot of bittersweet emotions.

How:  Seriously, this is ONLY happening with a lot of help from God, family & friends

My spiritual director asked me to spend some time writing about that “WHY” piece I skirted around up above.  She reminded me that I was going to need a few things written “in stone” about why we are transitioning…..because friends, it’s GOING TO BE HARD.  And when times inevitably get hard, I will need to remember the way we felt God moving and guiding in this process.  I have mentioned the word “bittersweet” here many times (often in connection with Shauna Niequist’s book by the same name).  Or “Good, But Hard”, the apt name of my friend Susannah’s blog.  As Susannah says, “Sometimes life is good.  Sometimes hard.  Most of the time, it’s a little of both.”  And that so aptly sums up this transition we face.

We have been deeply blessed by our time in Sunnyvale.  I began writing this blog when we moved and during the same time I transitioned to being a stay-at-home mom with two children.  It has chronicled the way our life has ebbed and flowed over the last 2 1/2 years.  Times of challenge.  Times of growth.  Times of deep joy. And incredible times of community and friendship.  I have seen my boys gain friendship bonds I never thought imaginable.  There have already been many tears from our eldest after hearing the news.  I see myself in him—-eager and wanting to latch onto the fun of “adventure looming ahead”, but pulled back by physical pain over leaving friends & family we love so dearly and connections we rely on daily.

Corvallis is a new area for us, but one we immediately fell in love with on our visits.  {in case you are clueless like I was, Corvallis is smack dab between Salem and Eugene about 10 miles from I-5}.  Our love for farm fresh produce and winery tours and tastings will be fed with more than we can manage.  Former trips in past summers to the Oregon Coast will be revisited.  We hope to get out on our bikes and explore, along with chances to hike and enjoy the beauty of the area.  And as scary as reforming community can and will be, we know that we have each other and that it will be a joy to get to know our new church family at First Presbyterian Corvallis.

Steve, our current head pastor at Sunnyvale, and a dear friend and mentor to Matt, wrote a letter to the congregation tonight and it encapsulates the situation so well, so I will share it below to close.  Before I do, though, I want to remind you of what I told all parents at Back to School Night each year, “Believe 1/2 of what you hear about me, and I’ll believe 1/2 of what I hear about you.”  Case in point—–Matt shared the news of the move with Alex yesterday.  During sharing time, Alex told his class that he was moving to Montana for the summer and that there was no In-and-Out Burger, so he encouraged the kids to sign a petition to “Bring In-and-Out to Montana!”  And there you have it, the easy way which misunderstanding and miscommunication can so quickly and innocently happen.   So please, if you have questions, ask!  We may not know the answers, but at least Matt and I know we are going to OREGON, not Montana, and we will be reining in our son’s business-like fervor for bringing In-and-Out to….Montana…or Oregon.

In all seriousness, we are immensely grateful for your love and support in the past and will count on the same, along with your prayers as we venture forth into this next chapter, adventure and continuing journey together.

Dear Friends,

 The one constant we can count on is change. In the life of faith we can add to that predictability the faithfulness of God. Though I am away on sabbatical, and penned this while studying in Turkey about the changing church over the years and the steadfast love of God down through the centuries, I want to let you know about a change in the life of our church and assure you of the ongoing health of our ministry.

 Matt Gough, our Associate Pastor for Youth and Families (as well as some other areas) has let me know that he will be leaving our church mid-July to take a new call as the Senior Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Corvallis, Oregon. In his letter of resignation Matt said this about his time with our church:

 I will depart with a glad and full heart, but also with sadness as I will miss the hospitable people of Sunnyvale Presbyterian Church. This church has left a deep and positive imprint that I will carry with me. Thank you for being a church rooted in Jesus Christ-the One Who meets us where we are and Who sends us out into the world to be Good News.

 We will miss Matt and are thankful for his ministry among us. Session has called a congregational meeting to be held on June 16 at 11 am so that we as a congregation might (reluctantly) concur with Matt’s request that the Presbytery dissolve the pastoral relationship between Matt and our church effective July 15. We will have a time to say goodbye to Matt, Christine, Alex, and Drew on July 14 following our 10 am and 5 pm services.

 This call for Matt actually culminates a discernment process that he initiated with me last year and which has involved several of our leadership folk. As such we have had time to support him in this process and to plan how we will carry on ministry without any great hindrance or lapse.

 We are sad to see Matt go, but thankful that the gifts he honed here will be used in Corvallis to carry on Christ’s ministry in that place. Thank you, Matt, and God bless!

 Grace and peace,

Steve

Six

Buggy Boo-Licious,

I am writing to you on the eve of your sixth birthday.  We (and by that I mean ME) have managed to recuperate from your sixth birthday party.  Daddy wondered if we could have suffered PTSD—that’s Post Traumatic Stress Disorder—-after the event.  I think you have been scheming and planning it since about 360 days ago.  A week after your fifth birthday party, Daddy slept out in a tent with you and let you watch Star Wars.

And later that same Memorial Day weekend, you watched the Trilogy, the classics.  Next came the later movies—-numbers 1, 2 and 3.  And of course the Clone Wars couldn’t be forgotten.  These are all things that seriously mean nothing to me.  I just don’t get Star Wars.  But you?!?  You adore it.  You are obsessed with it and so, like many other things in our family’s life, we got on board.  We were characters from Star Wars for Halloween.

 It was incorporated into our Christmas card, with a political twist.

Then came February and your Valentine’s were obviously….Star Wars themed.

And then your sixth party—-Star Wars wasn’t an option (although you began to think Lion King after attending the musical with Mommy in December in San Francisco).

This whole Star Wars obsession is quite the metaphor for you, sweet boy.  You certainly don’t pussy foot through life.  You commit yourself.  You become singularly focused.  You study.  You draw.  You build, create and plan.

You attempt to bring others along for the ride.  We’re still working on how to let this leadership bug shine in the right way—-people don’t really want to follow a dictator-like leader.  So, our prayer for you, Alex, is that you use these passions, loves and creativity to bring others alongside you.  To look outwards and see those who need to find something that lights them up.   Maybe point them to it?  To exude joy and share that.

It hasn’t been an easy year.  We butt heads like the true Taurus we both are.  We both are stubborn and like to assume our way is best.  So daily, we get to practice patience with each other.  Opportunities to stop, slow down, listen and truly seek to communicate and hear each other’s HEARTS.  That is hard work.  It isn’t fun and often we storm off in frustration.

I know that patience is not an easy skill to learn.  We talk about it a lot.  It can be as simple as waiting for a treat until after dinner.  Or enduring until the grandparents’ next visit.  Maybe patience requires slowly moving through a chapter book to hear what ends up happening to Henry Huggins or enduring until Star Wars Episode VII finally premieres.  Today the sermon at church was on patience and they included one of my favorite quotes from Henri Nouwen from his book Bread for the Journey.

How do we wait for God? We wait with patience. But patience does not mean passivity. Waiting patiently is no like waiting for the bus to come, the rain to stop, or the sun to rise. It is an active waiting in which we live the present moment to the full in order to find there the signs of the One we are waiting for.

The word patience comes from the Latin verb patior, which means “to suffer.” Waiting patiently is suffering through the present moment, tasting it to the full, and letting the seeds that are sown in the ground on which we stand grow into strong plants. Waiting patiently always means paying attention to what is happening right before our eyes and seeing there the first rays of God’s glorious coming.

So, buddy….let’s say that you and I pledge to work on this patience skill, even when it means suffering.  I know that the secret to sucking the marrow out of life and every moment, “tasting it to the full” and growing into “strong plants” takes slowing down, enduring together and being present in the moment.

Year Five has been a RIDE.  You started Kindergarten, learned to sound out words and began reading.  You have made many new friends this year, entered a new school setting and met a teacher you adore and love.  We got to test out your new sleeping bag from last year’s birthday on our camping trip and enjoyed numerous trips to the beaches in Carpinteria, Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz and Monterey.  You became a SF Giants affectionado and enjoyed rooting for the team as they won the World Series last fall.  You became a confident and eager bike rider, a LEGO devotee and obviously, a boy with a one-track, Star Wars mind.

Addition and subtraction started to rule conversation.  I began to see your love for process—–not for completing the perfect LEGO creation and stopping, but rather, enjoying the building itself, the visioning and constructing.

You have made many new friends this year, entered a new school setting and met a teacher you adore and love.  We got to test out your new sleeping bag from last year’s birthday on our camping trip and enjoyed numerous trips to the beaches in Carpinteria, Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz and Monterey.  You became a SF Giants affectionado and enjoyed rooting for the team as they won the World Series last fall.  You became a confident and eager bike rider, a LEGO devotee and obviously, a boy with a one-track, Star Wars mind.

As year six unfolds we look forward to the adventures ahead—-knowing they will be all the louder, more memorable and growth-filled with you along for the ride.  Know that even in the harder moments, dear first child of mine, I love your heart and zeal for life more than you know.  It gives my life foundation and meaning and even on hard days, it is a gift to be your mom.

Happy Sixth Birthday, Al-Bug!

Previous Birthday Posts:

Four

Five

Nourishment

Any parent tends to think about nourishment now and again—-or maybe every meal, snack and bite that we prepare for our kids.  Are we cobbling together enough to keep them satisfied?  The right balance to ensure healthy growth?  And even more important, do we manage to eek out a **FEW** meals that provide nourishment  for something deeper—connection with family over the table through conversation, however disjointed it might be.

I love this quote from Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s Gift from the Sea.  In case your reader or blog feed won’t let you read the words in the picture above, here’s the quote again:

A good relationship has a pattern like a dance and is built on some of the same rules. The partners do not need to hold on tightly, because they move confidently in the same pattern, intricate but gay and swift and free, like a country dance of Mozart’s. To touch heavily would be to arrest the pattern and freeze the movement, to check the endlessly changing beauty of its unfolding. There is no place here for the possessive clutch, the clinging arm, the heavy hand; only the barest touch in passing. Now arm in arm, now face to face, now back to back — it does not matter which. Because they know they are partners moving to the same rhythm, creating a pattern together, and being invisibly nourished by it.

Often the nourishment we need and seek can not be found through the means we employ—-holding on tightly, possessively clutching, touching heavily.  In fear, left to our own ways, we too often think we can nourish relationships through control.  Lindbergh reminds us that the pattern that can be created, the dance to be experienced is so much richer, moving, beautiful and **nourishing** when we let go and move to the same rhythm, not necessarily the same steps.

I am finding myself in a season that can often feel parched, dry and endless.  Like childbirth, I think I blocked out the emotional and mental stamina needed to parent a 2 year old.  They are relentless.  Today, I savored 2 hours of alone time by deep cleaning our bathrooms with Clorox.  What does that tell you?!?  I’m **nourished** because I can clean in peace without interruption?!?  What is this world coming too??  Night after night, we are suffering through sleep issues with the boys—one is suffering from night terrors and the other from bad dreams.  I often feel like they are tag-teaming, planning out a new and devious scheme to keep me from shut eye and the nourishment of consistent sleep.

I write this here to remember, to remind myself that one day they will sleep through the night.  One day they will both be capable of entertaining themselves so I can get some other chores done.  One day I might have enough stamina to do more that survive each day til I can plop on the couch at 8pm, exhausted.  Maybe, one day….

How do we find nourishment in these moments—-moments when I don’t even register what would BE nourishing.  How do we provide nourishment for our children?  True rest when fears and dreams fill their heads?  Meals that satisfy when their picky likes and dislikes prevail?  Time of connection and conversation and bonding when our own eyelids are heavy and our hearts are tired?

Lately, I have tried to remind myself that all of the “screaming” voices of culture (aka Pinterest & Facebook), are not the end all, be all.  Sometimes, turning on the sprinkler as the temperature soars into the 90s is necessary.  Maybe embracing the school’s spirit week—wearing mustaches, Hawaiian gear, baseball garb or super hero outfits makes all the difference.  Could nourishment surprisingly be found walking in the walk-a-thon in 90 degree heat?!?  Yes, maybe even there.

I wondered what this stage would look like in my life—parenting two boys, being a “stay-at-home-mom”, keeper of the calendar, diaper changer, dishwasher unloader, dinner maker.  Sometimes those moments, as much as I’d like to hope, don’t feel life giving.  In the midst of the exhaustion, I seek out hope.  Hope in something much stronger and firmer than food, experiences and memories.

I keep seeing images before me…reminders that even when I want to cry and pitch a temper tantrum….

….that it really makes more sense to call on friends.  To enjoy some time away from the bunnies.  There is no guilt in that.  Pure nourishment.

How do the kids find nourishment?  Alex wears his winged shoes.  Drew dances out in the rain. (or wears a Davy Crockett hat….obviously)

And some moments, under and through and in between the chaos, there are glimpses at these PEOPLE we are raising.  Encouraging our boys to love with abandon.  To shower others with flowers and love.  To write their stories.  To look out into the world and see “outside” themselves.  To be men of adventure.

At Open House, we got to see Alex’s work from Kindergarten.  It was surreal to attend Open House as a parent, and not a teacher.  To see his self-portraits from August and May and observe the growth that has unfolded.

These moments, if we pay attention, nourish.  It’s like that “goo energy gel” that you suck down on a long run.  You slurp down some reality and it energizes.  A chance to gain perspective and see we are raising PEOPLE.  No huge surprise, but a truth often lost in the day-to-day survival of parenting.

I’m not sure if mine will end up a politician, a pizza delivery boy, a mattress salesman, a smoothie maker or comedian…..

….but in the moments where I cling hard in control, desperately seeking nourishment, running on empty—-it’s time to look them in the eye.  See them for who they are and enter the dance and help them create the unique pattern that they are weaving with their lives.

And then pray to GOD that they sleep through the night just ONCE this week!

Never Picture Perfect

Recently we signed up for a photo session at our church for the upcoming, new photo directory.  My fears were on high alert as I worried about how the experience would play out.  The reminders encouraged us to wear coordinating outfits and maybe even to bring along something that was meaningful for our family—instruments, pets, etc.  I giggled a bit over this suggestion as I wasn’t sure what we would use to symbolize our family unit.  My husband and I holding a glass of wine?  The boys banging on pots and pans with ripped holes in the knees of their jeans?  Our dog, Sally, gracing the center of our photograph drooling with anxiety?

Well, the fated day arrived and we got there on time.  My youngest was in tears as I restrained him during his attempts to make a break for the outside play area. The session eventually began and we were positioned into various family shapes and facial contortions—-chin up, head tilted, eyes up here!  Using the photographer’s dog toy, he was able to get a few shots of the boys which actually looked cute.  As we finally corralled them, away from the lighting umbrellas, backdrops and camera instruments, we entered the viewing area to choose our favorite shots—time for the infamous “sales pitch”!  While attempting to keep my youngest away from the easels of framed portrait examples and the photographer’s computer, we found out that there had been a technical difficulty and we had to retake the photos.

I think I let out an audible, animalistic cry of death.  Of course the small window of “behaving” had passed and even promises of ice cream and bribery of treats didn’t work.  Our youngest was DONE.  The challenges continued with the memory card and we were ushered back and forth a few times.  Finally, we managed to get one shot—awkward as it was, that could work.

I left that experience in need of a stiff drink and some alone time.  It was painful.  Mere days later, we were back at church and grabbed a quick shot on Easter of our family.  It is a picture that I love.  We aren’t perfect, but it’s US.  We are outside.  Our clothes are a little disheveled, despite it being Easter, but we are all in it and smiling and it seems natural.

As an amateur photographer, I love capturing life in still frames.  The moments I succumb to canned phrases—“BOYS!  LOOK AT MOMMY!!!! CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!!!!  Eyes up HERE!  Would you just SMILE!??!?!”—I find that the boys get annoyed quickly and just run off, not putting up with my attempts to capture them “naturally”.  When I just click away, amidst the messiness of daily life and living, I seem to catch the best shots.  Moments that tell a story.  Pictures that share rawer emotions and real life.

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I’m blogging once a month at Practicing Families.  Please check out the rest of the post there!

Light Instead of Shame

As much as we don’t want to “go there”, shame is often an emotion faced when parenting.  Just a week ago, I was at the park with a group of friends and a gentleman came up, asking who was the parent of the “boy in the green beanie” hat.  It was clear this wasn’t going to be a moment to jump up and down, wildly waving my hand to claim my youngest.  He had pushed a girl and stepped on her foot and he reassured that “everything was alright, but I wanted you, as the parent, to know….”

Luckily, I was sitting with two close friends who could be the perfect kind of support in that moment.  I still felt shame.  Embarrassment.  I was red in the face and wanted to quickly escape the public place.

This is not the first time that one of my child’s decisions or behaviors was hard to swallow and I’m sure it won’t be the last.  As parents of babies, toddlers and elementary aged children, it is almost the “comical” relief to relate these moments.  Inappropriate statements loudly blurted out in the grocery store.  Unexpected peeing when a diaper got loose.  Time outs and consequences are challenging and take me to my knees many days.  But all of this aside, I know that the parenting realities of the teenage and young adult years might just undo me in a way I’m not even comprehending or expecting.

Similar to many of you, no doubt, I have been reading the reports emitting from Boston as this week of violence has unfolded.  One of my friends posted on Facebook, “The statement of the uncle of the bombers…heartbreaking.”  Before even searching via Google to find his words, I started thinking about this reality.  Imagining your own child or nephew committing such a horrific act.  Wondering how you could look them in the eyes with love as a city the size of Boston is literally shut down, on lock down, ground to a halt by your offspring’s decision.

Taken from this article, the uncle declared that the boys ”don’t deserve to live on this earth.”  Tsarni said Tsarnev “deserved it” when asked about his nephew’s death this morning. He also referred to at least one of his nephews as a “loser.”

“I just wish they never existed,” he said. “It’s crazy. It’s not possible. I don’t believe it. When I heard this on TV, I thought ‘Who can do this stuff?’”

“He put a shame on the Tsarnaev family,” Tsarni said of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, who remains at large in a manhunt centering around Watertown, Mass.  ”He put a shame on the entire Chechen ethnicity,” Tsarni continued. “Of course we’re ashamed. They are children of my brother, who had little influence over them.”

So much shame.  So much anger.  The need to speak up and share his own disbelief that someone is humanly capable of doing such a thing.

I don’t pretend to understand it….the acts committed on Monday or the ensuing man-hunt and killings.  It has been a tough week.  And as a parent, I understand that immediate jump to shame.  To embarrassment.  To moments of wanting to turn the other way when it’s YOUR kid that is wearing the identifying green beanie.  How do we pray in these moments?  How do we stand on the truth that restoration is possible, that peace is attainable and worth claiming and fighting for?

My inclination is to run away.  To grab my boy with the green beanie and hide.  To wallow in shame.  I know, though, rather than believing the world is a dark, hopeless place, that we need to CHOOSE the light.  Choose to let hope be felt.  Choose to sit with one another in the moments when we’d rather just blame, shut down or run, loving through presence.

“Love must be honest and true.

Hate what is evil.

Hold on to what is good.

Love each other deeply.

Honor others more than yourselves.

Never let the fire in your heart go out.

Keep it alive. Serve the Lord.

When you hope, be joyful.

When you suffer, be patient.

When you pray, be faithful.

Share with God’s people who are in need.

Welcome others into your homes.

Bless those who hurt you.

Bless them, and do not call down curses on them.

Be joyful with those who are joyful.

Be sad with those who are sad.

Agree with each other.

Don’t be proud.

Be willing to be a friend of people who aren’t considered important.

Don’t think that you are better than others.

Don’t pay back evil with evil.

Be careful to do what everyone thinks is right.

If possible, live in peace with everyone.

Do that as much as you can.

Don’t let evil overcome you.

Overcome evil by doing good.”

(from Romans 12)

Our Spending Fast :: A Retrospective

A few weeks ago, the calendar turned over to April 1st and I breathed a slight sigh of relief that our two month spending fast was over.  (For more on our fast, previous posts are here, here, here, here, here and here….all those “heres” = OVERLOAD!).  I learned a lot from the process and find myself still mulling over lessons gleaned a few weeks later.

• Reframing—–The spending fast allowed us to see (most of the time!) the many things that we COULD we do/buy/experience vs. bemoaning all the things that are off limits.  After these two months, I realized the gift of our huge double lot backyard.  The weather in California allowed us to spend lots of time outside, playing in dirt and staging picnics.  We took lots of walks and visited MANY parks.  Reframing can be key to many of the challenges we encounter.
• Getting a Real Picture—Our fast forced me to “fess up”.  I couldn’t allow myself to live in “nebulous” land, having a cloudy understanding of where we stood financially.  Numbers, receipts & totals were not only seen, but analyzed.
• Being OK with Boundaries and “No”—–At first, I needed to throw out all catalogs and have an “all” or “nothing” mentality.  Now, I can see and feel the gift of buying a little something extra or the treat it felt like to have ice cream on a recent camping trip or pizza on the beach.  I am learning to say “yes” to spending in smaller, more special ways.  I can even look at a catalog—some days—and not be overcome with everything I WANT/NEED/MUST HAVE.

• Imagine what is possible in the future—-Part of the process for me was realizing what we could do/can do in the future if we reign in our spending in the present.  Having some clear cut goals for saving was (and will continue to be) motivating.
• Impact on our Children—-The kids survived this whole process.  By setting some clear boundaries, the whining and begging for stuff began to wane.  They knew it just wasn’t going to happen.  Frankly our kids’ “needs” were often a mirror for our own unnecessary wants/desires.  It was easy to laugh at their plaintive cries for In-and-Out french fries and yet forget about my own cravings for a Peet’s Latte.
• Lower my Standards—-This lesson might seem a little lame, but really….it was a hard learning and one that has only barely been integrated.  I realized through the fast, that I need to be realistic and clear on where we stand.  As much as LEGOLAND was calling our name for a spring break adventure, I had to “lower my standards” and expectations.  I had to have a hard look at the finances and realize that a spontaneous trip to San Diego wasn’t in the cards.  We squeezed in a one night, two day stay in Santa Cruz instead and it was fantastic.  Lots of growling and complaining along the way as we packed, prepared meals and then chased a busy 2 1/2 year old through the campground (invisible fences for kids?!?!).  But those 36 hours were worth it and let me tell you, the splurges on food during this trip felt much more special.

We need to stay fairly tied to this same spending fast for now.  As a one-income family in the Silicon Valley, finances are always tight—-case in point, today’s NPR article on the KQED blog on rent….read here).  Money, finances and spending decisions will be ongoing conversations, opportunities for communication through negotiation.  Something has shifted, though.  Maybe we learned something?  To appreciate the everyday opportunities in front of us, to be creative & to realize that oftentimes less really IS more.