At the end of June my two big kids went to their very first sleepaway camp. Emphasis on very first because, unless I’m forgetting something, I don’t think my kids have ever done any sort of significant camp…not even the day-kind. Mary went to kindergarten camp and, for David? Does swim team count? We are SO LAME.
As long as I’ve been a runner, I’ve always said that I don’t understand the concept of a runner’s high. I’ve never entered that sacred space where running is effortless and wonderful and I could just continue forever. And what are these endorphins people talk about? When I’m running, I’m working. Regardless of the pace
Last Friday was Anna’s last day of preschool. She went to school with her trademark “cute” smile, her hair swept into a ponytail, and her siblings sent her off with a chorus of complaints, “WHAT!?! Her school is over? And we have two more weeks? NOT FAIR!!!” These kids! There’s nothing like your 10-year-old comparing
MOD Pizza, Starbucks, Richmond Lager, Surge Adventure Park. Know what they all have in common? They all have Anna’s letter — the letter A. I know this because Anna shouts enthusiastically whenever she sees her letter. “MOM! GUESS WHAT I SEE!” she shouts from the back seat, straining against her straps to make her point.
We celebrated Holy Week and Easter weekend by being very, very busy. That always happens, though, doesn’t it? If normal weeks are busy then holiday weeks will feel extra busy. I feel a temptation to chastise myself, “I’m doing this wrong. We need to slow down, simplify, take in the season.” But I also know
For a few weeks Mary has been getting Anna amped for the annual Father-Daughter Dance. I could see a sort of glazed-over look in Anna’s eyes whenever Mary talked about it. Fancy dresses? Cupcakes? And dad will be there? Dancing? What? The problem was that, in her excitement, Mary would start her explanation in the