Category: family

Although we had some good invitations to celebrate the 4th with friends, we figured it might be best to stick closer to home. Neither Ellery or Alex was going to make it through the night without some creative sleeping arrangements, which could only be accomplished with cribs at our disposal.

Thank goodness one of the best views of the fireworks is in my parents’ front yard. It took a bit of juggling, Doug playing the role of the Child Whisperer, and repeated showings of Word World, but we all made it out to see the fireworks, even though nearly everyone was in pajamas.

But now that I think about it, I think there was something about that in those inalienable rights—life, liberty, and the pursuit of fireworks in your pajamas.

It's official. In a few short weeks, Susie, Doug, Chris, and Alex will be just a walk through the hay away. Welcome to the neighborhood.

 
My father turned 66 today.

In my earlier years, I thought 66 sounded really old. Like drooling a nursing home old. But as my parents have crept into their 60s, it's been fun to see them keep growing. And thriving.

In his 60s, I think my father has finally found his groove. He's writing songs and playing gigs. In between he's probably doing nearly as much child care and diaper changes as he did when we were young. He even manages to keep up to speed on food allergies, cutting juice with water and mastering the art of microwave mac & cheese.

We grew up in a household of music, with my dad strumming along a soundtrack. I suspect it's no coincidence that I married a man who plays the guitar. I'm not sure I could fathom raising my kids in a house where someone doesn't spontaneously burst into song or pick at a guitar.

Bonnie, Susie and I went to surprise him tonight while he performed at a fundraiser. An intimate evening, he played to a perfect crowd, who laughed and roared and clapped. Tom had asked me if I wanted to bring the video camera, and I wish I had because I need to remember to capture his performances. Not just the songs, but the banter in between.

I love that he tells these stories. Someday I'll convince him to blog, because, hey, 66 is the age of blogging, haven't you heard? But in the meantime, I'll sit back and listen.

Happy birthday, Papa Joe.

I think that maybe we should have a three day weekend every weekend.

For some reason, this weekend we were able to relax. We were able to find time for upkeep and leisure. Activity and productivity. Family time and one-on-one.

I'm tucking it into the thinker, and trying to figure out how to make more weekends feel like this one.

In pajamas and a trucker hat, of course.

When we woke up this morning, the weather was perfect. As we began puttering around the house, Shep declared, "I want to paint!"

Tom had the good idea to throw the two together, and put the easel out on the porch. It looked like so much fun, Neko joined in, painting portraits of Tom. With one eyeball, because, you know, realism is clearly optional.