Last night was our second J-M First Friday. It was Owen’s turn with Mommy. It was a fantastic night!!!! To be honest, I have a terrible cold/flu right now and going out to dinner was just about the last thing I should have been doing. But Owen was so looking forward to being able to do this; it was such a huge deal to him; and for Owen in particular the follow-through when we say we’ll do things is extremely important… and so I forced myself to rally for the occasion (something that – for better or for worse – I’m really good at), and Owen would never have known that I was feeling like crapola or that I could not taste a single thing that entered my mouth. Anyhoo…
I had thought hard about where to take Owen for our special Mother-Son Dinner-Date. I had picked the perfect place for Kyle when it was his turn, and so the pressure was on to pick an equally perfect place for Owen for our big night out. The place we went wound up being more than perfectly perfect for Owen. We had dinner at The Melting Pot. Honestly, this is a place that I’d never go to for my own sake (it just isn’t my kind of thing), and it really wouldn’t be the right choice for anyone in our family other than Owen. But for Owen??? PERFECT beyond perfect in every possible way. He loved that it was “fancy”; he loved that he was the only kid in the place; he loved that it was so different than any restaurant he’d ever imagined; he loved that there was a real working stove right in the center of our table; he loved dipping and stirring and cooking his own food; he loved experimenting with every one of the sauces and spices and condiments; he loved it all. It was really the perfect place for him. Most of all, though, he truly loved having his mommy all to himself. He just soaked it all up. At times he was bouncing up and down in his seat—so incredibly thrilled about the whole entire experience that he could barely contain himself. At other times he was practically in my lap, could not keep his hands off of me, just all over me with cuddles and hand-holding and lovey-dovey-ness (way more PDA than I’ve ever exhibited on any date in my entire life prior to that one!!!)… and he suggested that we sit next to each other on the same side of the booth (instead of across from each other), which we did, and which was something else I’ve never done on any other date or anything else in my entire life (sitting side-by-side, cuddling, in a booth). It was just a really fabulous First Friday #2.
A few things I want to remember— As we were getting ready to go out, Owen expressed to me that he wanted me to “dress up just like you do when you go on a date with Papi” (too cute); I did “dress up” and Owen was so thrilled with it; he then proceeded to go find his watch and his necklace that he got in Anguilla so that he could be “fancy” too (just too cute). When the server first came to the table to ask if we wanted a drink, Owen very confidently looked her in the eye and said, “Do you have pina coladas?” She said yes, and he proceeded to order a pina colada – which he loved. When the first pot of fondue came – cheese fondue, I think Owen began to fully realize what the whole night was going to be about, and the look on his face was priceless… there was a big pot of melted cheesy goodness with all sorts of things for him to spear with metal spears and dip in. It was a really great feeling to know that he totally ‘got it’ – that I had hand-picked this place especially for him. There is something really special about feeling so special for a night. I loved being able to give that to Owen last night. And it was last night that Owen tried duck for the first time. It was one of many things that we cooked for our entree fondue (along with shrimp, beef, pork, chicken, pot stickers, and a whole assortment of vegetables). Owen is such an adventurous eater and I love that about him. He did not like the duck too much but it was a big deal to him to be eating “a poor little ducky quack quack.” I must say that that has always sort of been my own reaction to eating duck too. The highlight was, of course, the chocolate fondue for dessert. Owen thought he had died and gone to heaven. The whole experience lasted a solid 2.5 hours and Owen soaked up every minute of it. So did I.
Like everyone else, we have our rough spots. Nothing earth shattering or life altering (thank God), but rough spots nonetheless. Times during which we struggle to keep it all together. We are in one now.
Meera’s been sick for the past week. Like, home-from-daycare, double-ear-infections, on-antibiotics-again, fussy, clingy, glued to my hip, and cranky cranky cranky sick. Of course, she’s been drooling, coughing, sneezing, slobbering, sleeping and breathing all over me for five days straight. So now I’m sick too. Of course. Like, can-barely-drag-myself-out-of-bed, can-barely-function sick. Kyle and Owen are all out of synch with trying to get back into some semblance of a normal routine— after a week in Anguilla, and then a week of school break, they are now flailing about as they desperately (and not so gracefully) attempt to get back into the swing of the daily grind again. Owen is in a bad phase – back to what he’s always done when he’s in a bad phase: his typical acting up (big time) at bed time (ugh) drama (oh dear Lord when will this ever end with him? we’ve been battling this boy at bedtime in spurts and phases throughout his entiiiiiiiiiiire liiiiiiiiiiiiife). Kyle is doing the best of us all (the angel that he is), but he is never-ending with his obsessions and fixations that – inevitably – begin to drive the rest of us nuts (right now it is yahts and cruise ships that he’s obsessed with; ever since we saw some when we were in Anguilla; and we’re all just about done with his ceaseless and incessant questioning and commentary on all things yahts/ships; seriously, it sounds cute, but in real life it really isn’t). Braydon is as consumed as ever with his work (I’ll just leave it at that; read between the lines). I’m overwhelmed with it all.
We’re ready to play outside but it still isn’t quite fully spring yet. We’ve got the final push of the school year just looming right out there in front of us (always a tough time of year for our family—probably the toughest). The laundry is not getting done. The house is a wreck. Meals are catch as catch can. Things (like, the blog, for one) are falling through the cracks left and right. We’re all agitated and aggravated and edgy. The glass looks half empty. We’re barely holding it together.
These are the times when it is especially difficult to be a dual-career, on-our-own (i.e., no family anywhere within a reasonable distance whatsoever), nanny-less family. We have no back-up or Plan B. We’re flying solo and it isn’t easy. On a good day we keep all the balls in the air and the whole thing is somehow held together. On a bad day some balls drop.
A rough spot = a string of bad days.
This post is, in part, an explanation for why I haven’t been blogging these past several days. It is also, in part, a record of a rough spot. Because I want to remember these rough spots as well as all the great spells. And if my bambinos ever read this one day, I want them to know straight from me in the here and now–
My babies, Your mama almost fell apart sometimes. It is messy. It is real. We try to do our very best, but we sometimes falter. Rough spots are hard. Please forgive me and your Papi for our impatience, our weakness, and our often-not-so-stellar parenting. I hope very much that whatever damages we’re causing are minimized by the joyful life that we work hard to create during all the great spells in between the rough spots. More than anything I love you. And I want for you a full and enchanted childhood in which you knew you were loved oh so deeply. Sorry for the yucky stuff. Love, your adoring and imperfect mother.
This YouTube video made Braydon and I laugh so hard this week! If the twins in the video just looked a bit different this could seriously be a video of Kyle and Owen when they were babies. This is exactly what K & O did when they were that age. Exactly!!!!! When I first heard Braydon watching it on his computer I actually thought he was watching an old video of K & O. They had the exact same “language of the da!” thing going on between the two of them and they’d go on and on and on in very animated conversation with the “da! da da da da! da! da!” I wish we had the blog then so that we would have recorded more of it. So funny!
click — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JmA2ClUvUY&feature=player_embedded
Waiting is hard to do. For a meeting, for your kids to come home, relief, or a miracle. We all wait at some point. Waiting for something you desperately want or need is like peering up a mountain you think you’ll climb one day, tall and spiring upward with the peak just out of sight. A mountain that seems to have no path, no means of motion forward.
There is something I can see on the other side; maybe it’s the next mountain, or maybe something a bit hazy, in between mountains. Dusky, sun-setty. It feels like it might be fireflies on a summer night. We had that last summer, late one night we let the kids stay up and we caught fireflies in little white nets. Even little Miss who, in hindsight, seemed to be just a baby, caught fireflies and we put them in a jar.
I am not waiting…I want that again.
There is a path snaking up toward the top of the mountain, and looking back down I see how high it really is. It wasn’t clear how far we’d come until this point. I should be afraid, but I am not. I am walking and I’d rather be walking than looking up and wondering if I should go.
It’s not possible for everyone to find fireflies, but I see one now and again and they lead me on, like a lighted on the path in the rut of the mountain.
We’ll catch them together. Let them light our children’s faces, hear the laughter. We will, I am sure of it.
“What happens to the wide-eyed observer when the window between reality and unreality breaks and the glass begins to fly?” ~Author Unknown
Two years ago my cousins Karen and Eric both died within six weeks of each other. Life as we knew it changed then, and it would never be the same. Braydon and I blogged about it only the tiniest bit (for example here, and here), but otherwise it was something that we kept off-blog. It was just too raw for public viewing. It was a turning point in life – a point that marked the start of a whole chain of events that in sum represent a very intense couple of years for my side of the family. To say that my cousins’ deaths have had a profound effect on my family of origin would be an understatement. While my parents, my sister, and I, have each felt it and handled it very differently, Karen and Eric – their lives and their legacies – have impacted us immensely in unison. There has been intense pain, grief, and confusion. There has also been – in that strange way that life works – intense joy, centeredness, and clarity… not in losing them, but in what they have taught us along the way. In the end I think I can speak for the four members of my original family when I say that through our experiences of the past couple of years, at least one thing was deeply affirmed for all of us: life is fleeting and far too precious to squander.
Somewhere in the vast ripple effect of it all, my mother got the idea in her head that we were all – her, my dad, my sister and her family, and me and my family – going to go to Anguilla together. My parents have been spending two weeks of March in Anguilla for the past nine years. They adore Anguilla, and have always wanted to share it with their kids and grandkids. ‘We only live once,’ and ‘life is too short,’ and ‘who knows what tomorrow will bring?’ and soon enough my mom was determined to make it happen. Anyone who knows my mother knows that when she’s determined, nothing will stand in her way. And so, she made it happen.
Anguilla March 2011. It was a dream come true for my mother. And it was a dream of a week for all of us. Somewhere between reality and unreality is where we were. Powder white beaches. Crystal-clear turquoise water. Whole new worlds beneath the surface. Sunsets beyond reason. Views that make you squint because it is hard to decipher how it can be real— is this for real? isn’t this from a postcard I saw somewhere? The window between reality and unreality broke and the ‘glass began to fly.’
It was a gift. This trip was a gift. And in the warm breezes of the Caribbean (where – we J-Ms never forget – lie the roots of two of the five of us), we somehow all found a way to gracefully receive it. Our family has known pain, and receiving gifts is not our greatest forte. But there is nothing difficult about watching joy in children who you love with all your heart. There is nothing complicated about the simple pleasures of sand and sun and time spent together on a once-in-a-lifetime family vacation.
People in Anguilla say that Anguilla is “heaven on earth.” I heard that over and over while we were there. And having been there, I can understand the sentiment. There is something almost ethereal about Anguilla. A sort of haze – a roundness and softness – around all the edges. Even when you edit the photos for crispness, and increase the contrast, the fuzziness of all the contours are still there. Like a subtle fine mist that sort of glosses everything, giving it all just a little bit of buffering. You see it – in real life and then in the photos – and you wonder, “is it real?” It was real, and it was just what our family needed.
There were also many, many sharply defined moments of adventure and exquisite excitement! It was crazy-fun!
No car-seats necessary!
No seatbelts required!
No reservations needed.
No shoes – just feet in the sand – most of the time!
Anguilla is absolutely beautiful!
And we did a lot while we were there!…
{post 2 of 3 below}
…Getting ten people (who live in three different states) to Anguilla is no simple task. Especially when four of the ten are under the age of 8. We J-Ms stayed in an airport hotel the night before the big travel day. That put us in good shape for when our wake-up call rang in at 3:45 am! It was 14 hours of travel, including 2 van shuttles, 2 airplanes, 1 taxi, and 1 ferry…
…some of us (especially one of us) were really exhausted by the time we arrived at our villa in Anguilla.
I often hear people (in real life) and read people (on blogs) bemoaning how hard traveling with young children is. I agree, obviously, that it is challenging. But somehow Braydon and I have always found a way to take on the challenge as a genuinely fun, interesting, exciting one. We love traveling with our kids, and our kids love traveling. We all five know, and appreciate, what a privilege it is. If anything we only wish that we could do it more. And so, when we get to do it, we make the most of it. And we made the most of Anguilla, for sure!
My parents had an amazing itinerary for us. They know Anguilla well, and were superb hosts for our trip. We stayed in a beautiful villa, met many of my parents’ Anguilla friends, went to different beaches everyday, had drinks in mind-bogglingly-beautiful places (like here, and here), and ate lots of bbq and lots of seafood— at places that you’d only discover after years of spending time in a place.
We went snorkeling daily! (snorkeling = a J-M family favorite activity)
Kyle got really, really into snorkeling on this trip. Last year in the Dominican Republic, Braydon started teaching both K and O how to dive down deep without life jackets on. In Anguilla, Kyle mastered it. He stopped wearing his life jacket completely about two days in, and spent most of his time snorkeling down deep. He also spent more time than any of the ten of us snorkeling. He was snorkeling every chance he’d get. One day he found a thick palm branch in the woods on the edge of the beach. He used it as a “fishing spear” the rest of the trip – snorkeling with it, diving down deep with it, and attempting to spear fish with it.
He never successfully speared a fish, but he is one determined little 6-year-old-snorkeler! And while he never speared a fish, he did see plenty of fish (his favorites were the clown fish and the squids), and he dove to retrieve some amazing treasures on the bottom of the sea. Including beautiful empty conch shells that he dove deep for.
And Anguilla was were Meera began snorkeling (mask only). She loved it! And for a two-year-old she did very well with it!
There were plenty of other adventures too.
Like climbing for coconuts. In Anguilla, Owen mastered it.
And with a little help from a nice guy with a machete, we all got to partake in the coconut milk that Owen collected for us.
There was “playing tag with the waves.” (Sometimes really big waves!)
And there were discoveries of all sorts of new things. Like how the Anguillans fish for eels right off the beach.
And how the Anguillan kids make sandballs just exactly the same way as we make snowballs. After watching some kids on the beach one day, it didn’t take long for Kyle, Owen and Sadie to master the art of the sandball. They made many for Meera, who was regularly requesting them.
There was a hermit crab outside our villa one day. We played with him for quite a while before I finally hid him deep in the brush so that he could reclaim his peace. And there were tropical flowers that Meera found to be just perfect as cheerleading pompoms (always the cheerleader that one).
Speaking of that one…
Is there anything cuter than a two year old on the beach? I’m sorry, but I can’t help myself…
…there is nothing cuter. And there was nothing more shocking than the fact that Meera slept wherever we were each afternoon in Anguilla… on the beach, in beachside lunch spots, wherever we happened to be, she slept. Given that she almost never sleeps anywhere except her bed, this came as a big shock and a big relief to her mama and papi.
And as for K & O… these two just love the beach. Plain and simple. It is love love love love love times two.
There was really good food. And really good drink.
There was K & O’s third Coca-Colas ever in their lifetimes (this is, for them, a monumental thing to note)!
There was salt and sand and a swimming pool at the end of the day. There was a special dinner out, alone, for Braydon and I, at Blanchard’s (the restaurant of the authors of my most beloved cookbook, At Blanchard’s Table)— Oh. My. Goodness. Gracious. And there were two rental cars in which we explored that beautiful island. And books read. And rum punch. And MorFar’s 64th birthday. And morning walks on the beach. And sunsets at night. There were jam-packed days that felt long and leisurely. And amazing things experienced every day we were there….
{post 3 of 3 below}
…Most of all, there was the time spent. The time spent together in Anguilla.
Long walks on the beach. (below: Kyle and MorFar)
Fun in the sun. (below, probably my favorite 3 photos of the whole trip: MorMor and Meera)
Good times with Sadie, the bambinos’ only precious cousin!
Undivided attention from (and for!) Mama and Papi!
Twin brothers playing under palm trees. Lost in the luxury of a new place.
There is something really extraordinarily good about getting far, far away, together.
There was time for solitude too. But the best kind of solitude— solitude within real close proximity of the people you love best, and the people who love you best.
We were privileged to have had this trip. We appreciated every minute of it. And before we knew it, it was time to go. Our last night in Anguilla we drank our last pina coladas while we watched our last sunset and we did ‘cheers!’ for the last time before we would head home.
The next day we boarded the ferry from Anguilla to St. Martin.
Before heading to the airport we spent just enough time in St. Martin to buy a few little things to remember our trip by. But the truth is, the trip is lodged deep in our memories. No souvenirs needed. People say that big trips like this are “wasted” on young kids; ‘They won’t even remember it!’; ‘They can’t truly appreciate it!’. That is so wrong. It is a privilege, a luxury, and an incredible opportunity for kids to be able to travel like this. It shapes them and lives within them. Their exposure to the world, and their direct experience with it, contributes significantly to their worldview. That is no small thing. It is totally, totally worth it.
Anguilla 2011. A dream come true.
A dream somewhere between the real and the unreal. Like a half-open window of a ferry boat just leaving the dock, with the most jaw-dropping views, hues, breezes, and memories to last a life-time.
Maybe someday we will all go back. That sure would be great. But if we don’t, that’s o.k. too, because we were all in Anguilla on vacation together for a week in March 2011. We’ll always have that gift. Life is fleeting and far too precious to squander.
Today we celebrated Holi with Shalinee, Dave, Kavya, and Alex. It was a happy happy Holi!!! We did colors at their house – rangoli rice-water painting on their front door step; henna on our hands (done by Shalinee!); and we all “played holi” with wet and dry color on our faces and bodies (some of us got a bit carried away with it… mainly Meera… who would probably be very happy celebrating Holi every day!). It was a day that I had been looking forward to for a long time, and it was more fun than I had even imagined. I hope this is the first of many a Holi that we can share with them!
…I’m slowly making my way through the 900+ photos that we took in Anguilla! Travel Post to come ASAP…
Anguilla!!! With MorMor, MorFar, Sadie, Auntie Stina, and Uncle Mark! Great big Travel Post soon to come!
Recent comments