In the Still of the Night

Yesterday I had this really negative, gross day.  I was just "in a mood" and everything was stressing me out.  Nothing important, mind you, just everything that spoiled bitch lets get to her when she allows it.
I had the kids home for Veteran's Day and they were ON each other non-stop.  Then I was all aggravated about stuff happening 3000 miles away, having absolutely nothing to do with me.  Then I took Wyatt for a haircut and had to wait like, 35 minutes and then found out it was because I hadn't "checked in" even though I smiled and waved and someone saw me and I had checked in online and figured I was all set.  Then, I had to wait another 20 for a coffee at Starbucks.  Then I was annoyed by being annoyed because I realized that Veterans were getting free haircuts and free coffees so if I didn't want to wait for America's Heroes why the fuck did I go run these errands on Veteran's Day.
Ugh.
So, yeah, "first world problems" all day and it was only my own fault but once I get into a mood like that, good luck getting me out.  And it happens when Jay is traveling.  Without the ying to my yang, I can be a pretty big asshole.

Then, last night I had this great dream.

I was running late at LAX. I had to get to my gate but I had to swim and run up hill and go through so many people and crowded hallways and elevators and offices. There was everything in my way and my flight left at 7 and I had to hurry up. But I couldn't move fast enough, everything blocking me and I couldn't always see and I wasn't even sure if I was going in the right direction with each turn.

Then I ran into a man. And I looked up and it was my dad. And he smiled at me and I hugged him. It was real time so he was definitely not alive but he wasn't a vision because I hugged him and smelled him and it felt so great. Then he held my hand and we walked, briskly, through all the obstacles to get me to my gate. And the feeling of holding his hand was the best feeling ever. And I probably hadn't held my dad's hand in thirty years when he died but it was one of the things that I knew I was going to miss and don't ever want to forget the feeling of. 

When I reached my gate I had time to spare because I was calmly guided through life's obstacles and also, I had the time wrong.  (A little twist of humor in an otherwise very meaningful dream.)

When my dad died I said to Deborah I felt like the floor was pulled out from my otherwise very secure world.  My life as an adult was all set but there is always a piece of you, that kid piece, that knew my dad would always help me if I needed help beyond my adult life (husband/job/kids/life).  I had back up.  When he died, I felt very alone.  And then, as time passed, I felt empowered.  Like, I didn't have that back up anymore so I had to cowboy up and be my own back up.  And I felt more of his strength and courage fill me and that was good.  It built me up - that loss.  And I guess that's closure.  Life gives us hard lessons and how we learn them defines us.

I woke up sad and happy.  Crying, for sure.  Because it was so great to see my dad and get that boost I needed.  But I miss him.

Either way, consider my chi in check and my priorities reordered.  I needed it.

Cowboy, Take Me Away

The ocean is my happy place. The beach, really. But I won't object if you offer me an ocean cruise on your yacht, either. I look good on a yacht.

Yes, that's a yacht selfie.  My life does not suck.

In the years I have been Mommy I have found the beach to a place of peace and happiness. Kids can run and scream and blow energy and exercise and maybe even hit me up for an ice cream. It is also a place I can sit, and sit, and sit some more. I have to keep my eyes on the kids, but my ass can stay in my chair pretty much all day.   Guilt free. That's a good damn day in the Land of Mom.

From a more intimate perspective, I enjoy looking out to the sea and seeing what God gave us. The sun shining on the blue water. The waves and white caps. The sea birds swooping and floating. I like to think about whats underneath the surface. All the amazing animals and plants living and breathing in an underwater world most of us will never see. 

At Harvey's beach in Connecticut Abby and I used to have long conversations about what might have swam during high tide right where we were standing at low tide. 

I appreciate the science of it. The mystery and wonder.

Also, when I sit at the beach, looking out at the sea I enjoy relinquishing some control. Or all of it, depending on my mood. I enjoy looking at the vast,endless length, width, depth and thinking "I am so small. I am so insignificant on my own. This world is so much more than me."  I don't think that in a sad or negative way. I think it in a very large and spiritual way. I am just one part of God's creation and His creation is so huge and grand and amazing and endless. I can't control this. I can only love this and continue to try and love and find joy and spread joy and be my best and ask the same of my children and husband. I can only love and be kind and find joy. That is my path. That is my job. This is all so much bigger than me, I will do my part and fall back on my Faith and feel comfort and love and security. 

The ocean gives me that perspective. I appreciate the spirituality. The comfort and love.

When I step into the ocean, I feel the cold and the pull. Immediately I feel the pull. It invites me in and it also warns me about who is in control.  It's not me. But I have always prided myself on my swimming prowess. On my strength. On my intuition. I respect the ocean and I respect its strength and pull. But I got this. I am also strong and respectable. I got this. 

Until I don't.

I have heard people say things about undertow. And rough surf. And rip currents. I always sit near the lifeguard, make eye contact when I can, watch my children carefully. I don't nap. Or read. I watch. I respect. 

Today I saw the waves and heard the kids laughing and shrieking as their bodies sailed back to the beach on boogie boards. It was a great beach day!

So I decided to go in, too. 

The waves were huge. As big as I've seen them this summer. And from what I understand, this is only the beginning. The lifeguard board said 1-3' swells, down from 4'6" at high tide 3 hours earlier. That's a good beach day!

Abby was in the water so I went with her. Wyatt was in the sand right at the shore watching and digging. The waves were very big and crashing very hard so I went out a bit further thinking I would find that sweet spot where you can let the waves pick you up and put you down gently before they crest and crash. But the waves kept coming. And they were big. And I had to dive under them because the wall of water coming towards me looked too strong to jump onto or over, or even through, it looked like something I had to dive under to avoid. So did the next one. And the next. 

I turned to see Abby get wiped out and make her way back in. I said to her "it's hard to find a spot to go in" and she just made a face. Then I got rolled. It startled me because I haven't been legitimately tossed by a wave in probably 25 years. I have been pushed and I have been forced to ride one in but not tossed under and rolled over. But I got back up. I saw Abby and she was close to Wyatt. Then I got tumbled again. And this time, I couldn't get up. It frightened me and I thought 'this is too rough, I am going in'. And when I stood up I saw another wall of a wave coming at me so I dove in but it rolled me and I felt my bathing suit bottom slide down to my ankles and I couldn't get up. 

I was flipping and somersaulting and rolling and I didn't know where the bottom was or where the air was and I was running out of air to breathe and I was scared. 

I thought my neck would snap. I couldn't control my arms. And I thought 'wow. this is it, huh?  this is how I'm dying and leaving my kids?'  I really thought that. Clearly!

I was really scared.  I found the sand and pushed up and got air, just in time to dive back under the next wave and come back up to look back to the beach and realize that I was way far out beyond where I would ever go on purpose. My kids were tiny. And I was about to be rolled again. Down I went. I couldn't get up. I couldn't swim because the force of the current and the waves and the pull and all the amazingly strong and brilliant and awe-inspiring things I love about the ocean were beating me to death. I was terrified. 

I saw the waves still coming and I had such perfectly calm, lucid thoughts come into my brain, like I was talking to myself. 'find the sand'. 'stay calm'. 'breathe then dive and push off the sand'. 'stay up with the water'. 'ride in'. 

And I did all that. But I was so far out. And scared to the brink of panic. 

I have been rolled, washed up and spit onto the beach with a liner full of sand and saltwater in my sinuses many many times. This was not that. This was taking me away.  Not putting me back. 

I had very clear thoughts in my head. I called for help - I actually yelled the word 'help' from my little spot in the ocean - and I tried to wave my arm in the air. And I realized no one would see me and no one could hear me. And I realized I had to get the fuck back on the beach. Now. 

And I found the sand and I pushed and I swam and I rode.

When I got to the shore, close enough to the kids and out of reach of the big breakers I realized I was ok and I also realized that Abby had been there watching and screaming for me the entire time. She was crying. She was scared for me and I had to be strong for her. I didn't want to show her how life alteringLy terrified I had felt. 

But she could see me. And she knew. 

So we went up for a fresh water shower and then back to our blanket for a snack. And she cried a little more. And I cried a little. 

And we talked about it. And how important knowing how far to go out is. And how important it is to keep an eye on the shore - on our spot in the sand. How important it is to always be near the lifeguard and know where the current is pulling. 

She is a beach baby and she knows a lot. More than I did at her age, for sure. She loves the ocean but she respects it. Wyatt loves it, too, but he has a healthy amount of fear that will keep him safe and me sane - for a while longer, anyway. 

I have no idea how much time passed from my first roll to my return to shore but it felt long. It's amazing how much very clear thinking I had time to do. Not lifeflashingbeforemyeyes kind of thinking but clear, rational thoughts like about which way was up and if my neck could actually snap like this and if I might actually die and if someone would rescue me and would my bathing suit be around my knees and should I care or be embarrassed and how to float and breathe and stay calm. 

So today I felt small and weak and defeated by the Pacific Ocean. I fought my way out and I feel grateful for that. But not proud. I feel humbled. And strong. Just not as strong as Her.

All I Wanna Do

Since I have been back on Facebook I find that I read more. I read articles and essays (those are my favorite, like a blog post but only one, so it's an essay.  I think. That's what I call them anyway. An article is by a writer, for a paper or a magazine, right?  But an essay is by you. Or me. More interesting, usually.) Anyway. 

I read xoJane and HuffPost and Slate and whatever someone shares if it looks interesting.

I like hearing from people. 

People have neat things to say. 

I dislike pictures of things that people didn't take, with quotes that that person didn't say (and really, we can't be sure that Ghandi said all that shit, either, people, get real). 

And please, don't even get me started on Minions. 

I love the Despicable Me movies. They're adorable and funny and heartwarming. But the exploitation of the Minion on Facebook and the Internet in general is absurd. 

But I do enjoy quotes that people relate to, share and with the share, give a little bit of themselves. For example - you post a picture that someone else posted with a quote that really touches you and share a thought about why you love it - I love that. But if you share a post of a minion who hates things and add no value to it or how you relate to it or it makes you feel - I "hide" that shit. And if that's all you're posting - I will "hide" you. Chill out. Smile. Life is good. Calm down with the Minion shit. 

But I digress. 

Facebook has opened a door to all these great articles that I was not aware of without Facebook. 

And recently I read an article a woman wrote to her unborn niece. In it she wrote "don't live your life with guilt as your guide". Don't do things because you "should". Do things because they feel good, are good, do good. Don't do things you don't want to do because someone made you think you should. 

Now. That's a broad generalization. 

Kids should go to school.

Despite Wyatt's bargaining and reasoning and straight up pleading - he should, he has to, he needs to go to school. I won't tell you I have not considered home schooling him. I have. I have had moments of pure mothering power where, despite my earlier mentions of school being a stay-at-home-mom's reward - or my inclination to day drinking at the very idea of having my children home with me, with their educations being my responsibility, all year long, every day, all day, all year - despite all of that - I have had very clear, conscious thoughts and considerations about homeschooling. 

Moving is tough. It's hard to get kids who were used to being big fish in a small pond used to being anonymous fish in a ginormous pond. 

And Wyatt is a little guy. Young for his age and a very sensitive human. So yeah, I have actually had moments when I have said to myself "Liz. You got this. You can homeschool him. And protect him. We will play sports and enroll in playgroups and socialize accordingly. We will adventure and learn and live and love and do all of those things that the adventurous moms you read about do. We can homeschool and create an amazing environment for the kiddos."  

Then, that passes and I go back to "Wyatt, you have to go to school. You have to do your job. It is mommy's job to get you to school every day so you can learn and grow and socialize and become a successful part of the community and world we live in. And if you don't go, Wyatt, mommy will be arrested and go to jail."

Yeah. Because, really, I'm not a homeschooler. I'm a wannabe day drinker looking for any excuse. 

So, back to the "should do" stuff. 

Our kids do a lot of activities. 

When we left Hebron mid-spring we missed spring sports - softball and baseball. And Abby missed her dance recital. So in California we had no commitments aside from Jay's job and the kids' school. It was lovely. Every night we had a nice dinner. Every night we were together. Every weekend we went to the beach with daddy. After school the kids and I had the entire afternoon ahead of us, aside from homework - nothing to do!  By the end of the summer we could admit we were all a little bored. Well, 3 of us were. We were looking forward to school starting and softball and baseball fall seasons and dance. We were even adding swimming to our lineup. (We didn't, though, because ball games would have interfered). 

When school was approaching, registrations started rolling in and we signed up with anxious anticipation about being busy again. 

Now. We're busy again. 

And you know what?  I hate it. 

When we have early dismissal (every Wednesday), I want to go to the beach. But we have softball and baseball. Add that to homework and you don't have any free time after school during the week. 

When Friday rolls around, I wanna go to the beach with a picnic dinner and stay up late watching a movie and sleep in on Saturday and do nothing all weekend except maybe go for a bike ride or a movie or out to eat or to the beach (again! it doesn't get old, friends!). But we have games. Double headers even. 

I know for sure if I said to Wyatt "do you want to go to baseball?" he will absolutely say "nah".   He would much rather ride his skateboard, play Minecraft or shoot his Nerf guns. He would rather go to the park or do absolutely nothing at all. He does not care about baseball beyond having his turn at bat and eating sunflower seeds. 

When Abby contemplates her schedule she really hates anticipating being busy but really enjoys her practices and her dance classes and her school day. She is so easy and happy and peaceful (mostly, not always). 

But today she announced to us that she "really wants to focus on her singing career" so maybe instead of sports she would prefer voice lessons alongside her dance schedule. 

Amen and alleluia I say. I do not have to assistant coach her future voice teacher nor do I need to buy her $683 worth of gear. 

So, in this land of "so much to see and do" I do not plan to continue with the "shoulds". Don't wanna play baseball?  Fine. Don't wanna play softball?  Great. 

We have to work - all the varieties of it. But our after work time is our own. 

Feel good about singing, dancing, acting, Nerfing, Minecrafting and watching tv?!  Done. 

Wanna hit the beach or head up to Malibu or see what's swimming off shore down in Long Beach?  Maybe we want to see how LA lights up for the holidays...  We have time. We have spirit. We love an adventure. 

Life is good. Life is happy. It is what it is, not what it should be. 

It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Smell that?  That's the smell of crisp autumn leaves and mulled cider.  Maybe some horse poo.  That's what Fall smells like.

Picturesque New England Autumn

And we may live a stone's throw from the beach in some of - if not THE - best weather in the world but my body still craves crisp nights, crunchy leaves and the smells of apples and pumpkins.

Redondo on an October night.

I am not saying I would trade it.  Cali suits us just fine.  But I am burning an Apples & Oak tart by Simply Soy.  And I am getting my crock pot recipes ready to go.
The weather may not cool to the 30's and 40's but it will shift and we can still count on that sea breeze each afternoon which cools things considerably.

Dinner on busy school nights trumps air temperatures.

When we first got here I laughed at people wearing sweaters.  Now, only 5 short months later, I get it.  I have become accustomed to - spoiled by even - these fabulously hot and sunny days.
Dry heat is a cooker.  It's not sweaty like humid heat.  It's more like you are actually feeling the heat coming out of the oven or off the fire.  And it's hot.  Still preferable to soaked shirts and running make up, though.  And when it goes away, it's gone.  The breeze picks up and it almost feels chilly.  I don't want to get all science-y on you, but it's got to have something to do with the lack of humidity and stillness.  It's hot or its not, that's it.

School starts the day after tomorrow.  Tomorrow night is an official "school night"!
I am thrilled!  I am beyond thrilled!!  I am a stereotype of unbridled excitement as I am about to be child-free every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday from 9 - 3!!
I will exercise!!
I will clean!!
I will read my book!!
I will grocery shop unencumbered by the wants, the whys, the pleases and the tantrums!
I will accomplish things!
I can be room mom and field trip helper and softball coach, too, because I will be free!!!

I know how I sound!

And I know that come April and May of 2016 I will be singing the exact opposite tune, if not sooner.
But for now, allow me to enjoy it!

And this school year will be full of new, different and exciting adventures.
Both kids have Fall Ball.  2 afternoons a week for one left handed pitcher and one right handed catcher.  That's convenient, I know, but we didn't do it on purpose!
We also have a new dance school for our little ballerina.  We were lucky enough to find one that is not only a bit less expensive but also offers two classes Abs wanted in the same afternoon - which is a different afternoon from Softball.  Yay!!
So, new school that isn't so new anymore, new dance classes, new ball teams...  this year is gonna ROCK!

Having moved in April and having known for certain since January made last school year's second half less of a focus than normal.  Moving distracted from school work in Hebron.  And once we arrived we urged the kids to get comfortable and feel good about where they were, rather than strive for perfection in the classroom.
I believe we did the right thing.  "Heart over Head" is what I said to them over and over again.  Because if they weren't happy and comfortable in their hearts, they weren't going to be successful in their classrooms anyway.

They can't always both be a priority.

But this year - this year they are gonna hit the ground running!!
They are not new anymore!  There will be other new kids to help out and feel better about feeling at home here and not home there  anymore.
We have made a conscious effort to stop saying "back home" and say "in Connecticut".  Because, as long as we don't accept this as home, it won't feel like home.

And this - where the 4 of us are, wherever it is - is home.

So, with a shiny new lunch bags and back packs, super fast new sneakers and only the style-iest of style-y new clothes - we are ready to launch into Third and Fourth Grade with all our power!

And guess what?  Grammy & Auntie Frannie are gonna be here to enjoy the ride!  First day of school - Thursday.  Pick Grammy & Auntie Frannie up at LAX - Friday!

From that visit we can look forward to Wyatt's birthday and our visit from Nana and Papa!!

Then Halloween (at Disneyland?!)

And Thanksgiving (with Shamu?!)

And Christmas...  with twinkly lights on palm trees!!  A longtime wish of mine, I can't wait to put twinkly lights on all these tropical plants!!

Happy New Year, my friends - hope your 2015-16 is as fabulous as you are!

Our House, In the Middle of Our Street

Moving is tricky business.  

Your family and friends really want you to be happy, they want to support you.  But they, the ones that are not moving, cannot fathom how you could possibly be so happy if you make such a change.

How can you leave them?  {“They’ve got a rude awakening coming…”}

How can you make a home in a place that is not their home?  {“What about all those roots you worked so hard to put down?”}

How can you find peace and happiness without them?  {“You need family near by, what if something happens?”}

With Belle's Ben and Caleb, in Mystic, just before we left.

You don’t know anybody!

You don’t know where anything is!

And then you do.

Moving is tricky because you are happy and you do find peace and you can make a new home, but you don’t want to put off a vibe that implies you were not happy or not at home in the place you are leaving.  {“I talked to her.  Did you talk to her?  She sounds happy…  Did you think she sounded happy?”}

Does being happy away mean you weren’t happy close by?

You miss your friends and your family but missing friends and family should not be confused with wishing you were there or wishing you hadn’t left or wishing you were with them right that very minute and as many minutes as possible ever because you miss them desperately!!

If you seek out true peace and happiness, with the people that you crave being with the most, you will find peace and happiness anywhere you go.

When you move away you miss familiarity.  You miss comfort.  

Moving is scary.  There are so many unknowns.

Jay and I have always been restless.  We have always known that we would not stay in Hebron forever.  We didn’t know if we would give up high taxes in central CT for high taxes in southern CT  or NY  or MA  or FL.  We never imagined CA, that’s for sure.

But look at what we’ve done.

We picked up and left our comfort, our families and our friends.  Really, really good people that we really, really love a lot.

Abby's last minute/snow emergency 9th birthday party - 2 of her besties.

But you know what?  

They’re still our family and our really, really good friends.

And the ones that aren’t?  Well, they weren’t, were they?

We have been through a lot of things in the 14 years we have been married.  Good, bad and indifferent.  Who hasn’t, right?  The more time you spend with someone, the more shit you see.

The one thing that has been consistent, that we rely on, is that we have always put each other, our marriage, first.

Once, Deborah and I discussed it.  Years ago.  My father used to get angry with my mother, saying she put us first when she should have put him first.  My mother’s argument - had she ever made it out loud - could easily have been that he was pretty damn good at putting himself first enough for both of them…  but I digress…  he’s dead... so we don’t say such things.

Anyway.  My sister said in regards to her marriage, “we put each other first and together, we put our kids first”.  I thought that was brilliant because it really does sum up a loving marriage and parenting partnership.

By putting each other first, we make our marriage/friendship/partnership the number one priority.  In doing that, our parenting style puts our kids in the forefront of lifestyle choices, but not at the sacrifice of ourselves - but as a team.

And as a team we managed this decision and this move to leave everything and everyone we know to move across the country.

And we are really happy and at peace.

And we miss our friends and family, but not because we wish we hadn’t left, but because we love them and know we will see them again and it will like we never left.

That’s the beauty of real, love-filled relationships.

In California we have found a lifestyle that allows for more free time, family activities and leisure time that we either didn’t have or didn’t make time for in Connecticut.

We go to the beach every weekend.  We ride bikes for no reason other than to go bike riding.  We watch tv and go to the movies, go to the mall and out to eat.  We spend really good quality time together.  

The weather and the city have created this perfect storm of “no excuse but to have a good time”.

Adventure Time!

We don’t own this house we live in, so we don’t have to look around in disgust at every ache and pain in the yard, on the roof or in the garden if we decide to sit outside and soak up some sun.

We aren’t responsible for “maintaining our investment” so sitting around on a Sunday afternoon watching tv is no longer impossible - there is nothing else to do!  No lawn to mow, no garden to plant, no rooms to paint, no carpet to remove or bathrooms to remodel.  It doesn’t matter!  A roof over our heads and a door to lock on the way out.  Our time is our own in a way that we couldn’t understand under the shackles of homeownership.  There are benefits to owning your own home, for sure.  But they aren’t what they once were and they may not ever outweigh this lifestyle, for us, again.

Fireworks, on the sidewalk.  Fireworks come to us, we don't go to them.

Another aspect of this move is the advantage for our children.  Presented with a new school, new kids and teachers and ways of life.  A school that is not led by all the moms they’ve known since they were toddling around park playdates.  A school that their mom was not president of the PTA for or Room Parent or even allowed to volunteer at (their school requires a TB test, *one of my quests for this summer is to find a place that administers TB tests*).

A shot from my "going away party" - it includes quite a few of,
but not all of, those mamas that we grew so happy and comfortable to live and grow with.
Awesome women.

They are adjusting to change.  Because life is all about change, really.  And to not prepare them to be able to move with and adapt to changes as needed would be unfair, really.

Ask Abby if she ever, in a trillion years, thought she would do - nevermind enjoy - Track Camp.

They are being forced to learn independence.  Independence from groups of lifelong friends, independence from familiarity and comfort zones.  They are being forced to find a better sense of what’s important and what matters to them.

They don’t know who’s cool or who’s connected, none of these kids’ moms are my friends.  They will only judge by who is nice, who is fun, who is happy - those are the people they will be attracted to play with and find their own peace with.

Pole Vault.  You can't really tell in this shot, but he's got this.

Yup.  So does she.  Try to make me say differently.

They are also learning how much they enjoy each other.  And that is something that cannot be taught or demanded.  That is a gift that we are so thankful to witness each night as they go to bed, in Abby’s room, one up in the top bunk and one in the bottom because they prefer it that way.  They want to be together.  They like each other.

Look at that love!!

This summer they have not had tons of playdates or camps or commitments.  They have had each other.  We have had and will continue to have our own playdates and adventures, just the 4 of us, with a few friends we've made along the way.

It's nice when your friend are also your cousins.

And when school starts in September they will have new classrooms full of new friends, new baseball, softball, basketball and dance teams.  Childhood - with all the chaos and drama that comes with it - will continue, but this summer will be one that they will never forget.  Because it will be one that we will never be able to duplicate.

What's your poison?  Wetzels or Cinnabon?

That’s our ultimate goal.  Friends are always friends, no matter what you have or where you live.  Family is always family, like it or not!  But life is what you make it and we are making it into our own adventure.

Guac-stuffed tomatoes ala Wy.

A magnificent pudding pie ala Abalicious.

In the words of that wise man from Joe Dirt - “home is where you make it”.

Take Me Home, Country Roads...

Last week the kids and I packed our lunches, beach towels and sunscreen and hit the road.

"Adventures" has always been our thing, far longer than they have had a say in where or when, we have always been going to see, do, visit and explore.  I love it - and they love it.
The other day Abby was missing Connecticut and she said "I miss trees.  I miss freshwater - lakes and rivers.  I miss just going somewhere and being in the middle of nowhere."
My little country mouse was feeling a little crowded, I think.

Backpack loaded, ready to go!

We live in SouthBay, it's beautiful beach cities.  Beach.  City.  Lots of sand and gorgeous places to relax and eat, shop and see.  But not a lot of....  shade.  Or quiet.  Or dark.

We had to take the freeway, this was the second time I've driven on the 405 and while getting up over 40 mph is a nice treat, it still feels very foreign.  I am thankful for my large car.

What's really amazing is how this state can offer us the beach and the sun and the amazing ocean breezes at home and just an hour away, a little bit northeast it offers us hot desert sun and mountains that resemble what I saw in the Lion King.

Entering "The Shady Path".

We don't know what this tree was but it was super big and cool looking!

Skull Rock!

The thing that led us to Malibu Creek was the Lava Rocks swimming hole.  Fresh water in the most natural of natural surroundings.  Cliffs and rock formations made thousands of years ago by nature.  Safe?  Sort of, I guess.  There are people swimming there all the time, but there's no lifeguards and there is a sign that says maybe think twice before you jump.  From where we parked and walked the "Lava Lake" was a little over a mile.  We were hot and hungry and happy to find this little oasis.  

This seems pretty clear to me.

This was not the highest point these guys jumped off of on this beautifully hot day but I had to stop watching.

This really was as serene and cold and fun as it looks.

  
While the pond swimming was fun we knew there was more to see so we left the pond to the daredevils and canned beer drinkers and moved on with our day of nature and trees.

This park is where they filmed M.A.S.H.  I was excited at the idea of seeing that as I have seen every episode of that show and the song plays almost constantly in my head.  Miserable song but somehow, that show was happy and funny (usually) in spite of the premise.
It is also where they filmed Planet of the Apes and few other shows and movies,  this is LA after all.
But, after the one mile walk to Lava Lake and the next 2 miles - mostly uphill - to Century Lake - I didn't think the kids had another mile just to see an open field of nothing that would mean nothing to them other than an additional mile back.  So, I skipped it.  No biggie.

After Lava we headed uphill to Century.

We didn't know what to expect but we did know that swimming in both pools of fresh water was our entire plan for the day so even though we now know what this guy feels like - we made it.

Century Lake was sort of hidden.  We walked up a very hard, dry, sun soaked path (came to find out later that we were on an "easy to moderate" hiking trail the entire time, so I guess - technically - we hike now.  

When we stumbled upon it (literally, down a tricky little pricker-y path) it did not disappoint.

It was shady, the water was deep and cold and the only thing missing was the bugs we, as east coasters, have become so accustomed to with shady fresh water.  Pure heaven.

There was a log that they climbed up on to climb up onto the ground.
Very efficient.

Hi Daddy!

The view from the top of the hill we climbed to reach the lake.
(Pinch it to see the port-o-potty island that both of my kids had to poop in.  Why waste a perfectly good, desert-cooked shitter, am I right?)

We don't go anywhere without a wrong turn, this bridge led to a Visitors Center
that was only open on the weekend and had no toilets.

At the end of the day we managed something around 6 miles of "hiking" and we swam twice.  We picnicked, we chatted and we enjoyed silence.  The kind of silence that these 3 country mice forgot how much we miss.  Nothing but wind through leaves and tall grass and bugs chattering - I do not take that kind of peace for granted.

No one cried.  No one argued.  No one got stung, hurt or upset by anything.  It was the best day.

Oh, and on the way back down the hill, I was lucky enough to catch this:

Yes.  They are holding hands.

What Have You Done For Me Lately -ooh ooh - ooooooh yeah!

Before we moved I had big plans about my budding writing career.  I thought this was going to be the perfect rebirth for my creativity.
I would be bored, and have nothing to do and no friends and be completely surrounded by inspiration.  So, I would write!
I even had ideas about making my blog "subscription only" so that people that worked for Jay wouldn't read it and get in on our personal business.

Of all of those thoughts, I think the "subscription only" portion is the funniest.  Because, really, who reads this?  I know of about 6 people, 7 if you include my mom.  And as much as I appreciate the support - and I truly do - I really write it for myself.
Sometimes I feel myself getting all bottled up.  I have a need to share.
Facebook helps that.  A lot.  But Facebook also allows for feedback.  And often, the one line "You're too funny" or "same thing happened to me" only irritates me and doesn't allow me to fully explore what happened, how it happened or what the impact may be from said happening.

How can I appropriately Facebook my journey through the California Department of Motor Vehicles this past Tuesday?
I can't.  So let me share it with you here.

I made an appointment.  First of all - thank Jesus I made an appointment.  The appointment line was 2 deep.  The "I think I'll swing by the DMV and settle the years' worth of issues I have with the state of California on my lunch break" line was out the door and into the next parking lot.  No joke.  I couldn't take a picture because the other thing about the DMV was - all the criminals and fat people were there.
In my time in SouthBay so far, I have seen many, many walks of life.  Very different from the rural white towns I grew up and settled in thus far.  I have seen, chatted with and befriended people from India, Japan, Korea, Hawaii, NY, Wisconsin and right here in Torrance.  None of them are easily defined as "white", "Indian", "black" or "Asian".  Nor are they distinguishable by class, income or "location" (read - section of town that we are so used to judging each other by).  Its nice.  I have discussed the anonymity of living in such a large town (city) before and I am still, very much, enjoying it.
That said, at DMV I found all the very fat, very smelly, very scary people in SouthBay.
Surprisingly, though, they did not work there.
The kids and I arrived for my 12:15 appointment and by the time we left (around 3) I had a temporary CA drivers license and 2 shiny new California plates for my Pilot.  And my disposition was as good if not better than when I arrived.
The employees were smart, helpful, chatty, friendly and easy to work with.
The woman who helped me register my car informed me that I may not be happy with her when I walked away but she apologized ahead of time for what was obviously not her doing - California requires you to pay CA state tax for a vehicle purchased outside of California if it is moved into California within 365 days.  They do, however, take into account what you've already paid, in my case, in CT.
The lovely woman at her desk at window 15 said "that will be a grand total of $1400 even.  Welcome to California."  Her face did not reflect her sentiment.

From there, California license plates in hand, I went to take my "written test" for my drivers license.  It's not written.  Its done on a touch screen monitor bigger than my laptop monitor.  It was acutally a pretty impressive set up.  I was warned that the test was pretty hard because it asks you about stuff you really don't use in regular driving.  For example - did you know that the legal limit for alcohol for an adult is .08% - but the legal limit for an 'under 21' is .01%?
I would have gotten that wrong because I would have assumed the limit would be 0.  My bad.
Anyway - I did get that question.  I was also asked what the center lane was for on a highly trafficked roadway.  Obviously, not right turns.  We call it the suicide lane, but it is intended for the start and completion of left hand turns and legal u-turns.  Now you know.
So, I passed that, took my picture and was super excited to get my new license.  Imagine my disappointment when the gentleman handed back my Connecticut license and told me this would serve as my temp until my new license came in the mail in 2-4 weeks.  Boo, California!!  That is where CT has you beat!  Printing Press right on the premises!!
All in all, it was not a bad experience.  It was not a thrilling experience, either.  But for a 3-hour stint at the DMV - no matter what state you live in - I was kind of impressed.

***********

I have had a few dates here in SouthBay.  Mom-dates.  I think Deborah coined that phrase.  But I need to make friends.  Like I said to Jay - I have a short list of amazing, life-long friends.  I don't actually need any more.  But I do need some buddies - some moms that I can hang with, bitch with, laugh with, drink with.  So, I'm putting myself out there!  I can and love to talk to anyone, anywhere...  it's very easy for me and I enjoy it.

I had one date with a mom from Abby's class.  And it was a homerun!  We met at the track and got to chatting.  We have the same helicopter-y expectations of our classroom teachers.  Same dry, hilarious sense of humor, same distaste for bitchy/clique-y moms and - go figure - she's about 10 years older than me.  Perfect!
So, we hung out at the beach one afternoon and the love fest continued.
We will hang again and I am happy to report - I like her and she likes me!
(See the similarities?!  It really is like dating!)

I had another date - with a mom I met on the beach one random day that her kids and my kids were playing together in the water.  Seemed natural to meet up at the beach again.
This time, however, it was a date - planned and anticipated.
She, being a native Californian and this being a sort of overcast, chilly day - by California standards - was wearing a sweatshirt, a warm hat and carrying a hot coffee.
Me, being a native nor'easter, had my chair, a large bag of beach toys, a cooler, a large bag with towels and snacks and sunscreen (honestly, I don't know why I bring so much crap to the beach - I'm working on that).  Her kids had BodyGlove head to toe, my kids had a quick spray of sunscreen.  It was cloudy!
We chatted easily enough.  She asked me what my hobbies were, I said I love to read and garden and bake and run and sew and make my own organic sauces - also I am learning spanish and teaching my kids techniques for them to get ahead in the grade levels they are preparing to enter.  Naturally.
She told me she homeschools because she couldn't bear to send her babies into the "zoo that is public school these days".  She also proceeded to tell me how "big government got in the way of states' right to govern individually" when it came to the Marriage Equality Act.
When she was done speaking I was so thankful I had thought to lie about my hobbies (sitting at the beach, shopping, playing Clash of Clans, perusing Pinterest, actually reading - but not books I usually brag about) and quickly decided to not talk to this woman about anything else.  Ever.
Also worth noting here - her son is 11 and thoroughly enjoyed playing with Wyatt who is 7.  This is fine in many cases, but since he kept calling Abby "girlfriend" and asking me if they could sleep over I decided it would be best to call it a day.
Again, 2-hour parking meter comes in handy.

I do have a third date pending.  A lovely lady I met at Swim.  She is born and raised here.  Her face is round and happy.  She laughs a lot and is totally into her kids.  I liked her immediately.  We chat during the kids' swim lessons.  Our kids don't match at all but all 4 are happy, friendly kiddos who, I anticipate, will play well together regardless of age.
We are planning a trip into LA - she wants to go into Chinatown and I want to go anywhere someone wants to take an adventure.  I'll keep you posted!

**********

So - what the hell have we been doing?  We have been having a very good time, my friends.  A very.  good.  time.
As much as I miss my people, and miss being a part of things happening back east, I can't complain about what I'm doing (or who I'm doing it with).
And as long as I keep living - one day at a happy time - I will be forever grateful for the experiences, the adventures and the joy this "perma-summer-vaca" is giving us.

A new addition to our clan.  California Roadster!  

Oh?  An open invitation to bang out a song with a drum circle?  Sure!

We spend some time at the beach.

There's a sand crab in that little hand, look closer!

Dodger Stadium.  Mets were in town for July 4th.  This day deserves a blog of it's own.  "Epic".

Next time we will go as Dodgers fans...  blend easier...

 

Fireworks at the beach, from a few blocks up.

A little v-ball.

Hermosa.

I got glasses!

Night Riders.

Best.  Visitors.  Ever.

Street Fair.  Redondo is where it's at.  #ifweknew

Coming around the third turn~

Track & Field on Monday nights!