






Wait, did you come here for pictures of children frolicking in the ocean?
I’m so sorry to disappoint you.
You know how when you go on vacation you have this vision of how it’s going to go? Today we sent Neko off on one of those “It Will Probably Change Her Life” experiences, only to have her leave part-way through because she felt awful and come back to the room to take a three hour nap. (She’s fighting a cold.)
Shep threw up at the hostess station of a restaurant this morning, but he said it was because he hadn’t eaten that morning. Then he took a two hour nap. Right at the end of dinner he threw up again, all over the table and floor. Bobby Flay, please accept my apologies.
Glass half full? The door to the washer and dryer in our room, which was supposed to be locked (for the owners of the condo only), was mysteriously open upon our arrival. This means we can clean up pukey clothes without schlepping them down ten floors.
But the view? It sure is pretty.


Spring break has been glorious. I didn’t realize how tired I was until my body collapsed into a heap of exhaustion for days on end while the kids enjoyed way too much time playing on iPads. I think Shep and Neko have built an entire new civilization on Minecraft by now.
Then I cleaned my car. I worked a few days on getting ahead at school. Instead of an all-house spring break purge, I tackled the zones that were really bothering me. (Did you know our children’s bedrooms have doors, and when you close them, the mess magically goes away?)
Today we took a road trip. Took in the science museum and then a delicious meal at a restaurant with amazing light. I managed to sneak everyone’s photo. It appears we are in that phase where everyone sticks their tongue out for the camera. Super.










When your children are little, you take pride in their accomplishments. Part of this comes from the feeling that you somehow had a hand in what your child had done. They learned to walk—we did it! First words? Well, I really was a good coach, wasn’t I?
Of course, in retrospect, we realize that these accomplishments were their own all along. We were just there for every moment, so we felt some ownership.
But then your children get older, and all of sudden the things they accomplish have nothing to do with you. And it’s quite apparent. Ideas burst forth and they run with them at a speed that is impossible to track. All you can do is gently lift your jaw back off the floor.
We went to the dentist this morning. Neko got this little plastic monkey as a prize for having no cavities. As we sat in another doctor’s office, waiting for the next appointment (packing them in over winter break), I decided to take a photo of it. That is the first photo in this series.
Then Neko asked if she could use my camera. I relented, and the next hour was filled with a burst of creativity, art directing a monkey’s journey through an oversize world. The crops are her own, except for one that I made horizontal so it matched this series. I adore seeing the world through her eyes, an amazing blend of my husband and I.
This is the good stuff.









My parents’ house is built on a small hill. It’s the perfect size for beginning sledders. My children and nephews all took their first sled rides down this hill.
This year Neko was looking for an extra challenge, and started building ramps out of snow to launch sleds for some air time.
There’s nothing quite like rosy-cheeked children, exhausted from play in the snow, coming in to parents who have been snoozing on the couch.
This, my friends, is a solid winter.