A Memory Starts With A Dream

It's my last half hour of calm and quiet. The countdown starts. I have to pick the kids up in 30 minutes. I can write before then. Koa's sleek brown brindle body is stretched out on the warm stones of my courtyard and she is basking in the sun as we both enjoy the ocean breeze. My mini oasis. It took us years to craft our home into a little sanctuary that we love. Ok, switch gears. Time to dream.

What shall I dream of? The Europe trip that eludes me for so many years? At some point we shall have to say "to heck with the responsible thing to do" and use the money that would bail us out of some future mess. We could walk down the cobblestone streets and smell the fresh bread wafting out of the shop windows as we hold hands and quietly discover the city together. Maybe it's better that we've waited for it; now I won't run around like a crazed lunatic trying to absorb 10 countries in a week and thus wiping myself out mentally and physically to require naps that ultimately rob me of more precious time. The crazy American woman with the list in hand and the need to photograph herself in front of specific landmarks to prove she's well traveled and that she has accomplished one of her life goals. 

Instead, I shall replace her with a slightly wiser version of me that is content to go more slowly and cover less terrain for the sake of the experience instead of a multitude of destinations. It will allow me to share the experience with my best friend instead of focusing so much on me, me, me and where I MUST GO! French cafe music plays softly in the background, no really, it does right now, and I have learned that contentment in the current environment is half the battle. 

Add kids to the idyllic picture and it gets complicated. Fun and enchanting and stressful and oh so tiring, but memorable and fuller. The only thing missing would be our dog. No, we cannot bring Koa to France. Sigh. All four of us roaming about the Scottish countryside and breathing in the green hill sides does sound idyllic. I can picture the girls complaining about the food and Scott reveling in the beer and as long as I can find some good carbs I shall be quite happy. Yes, this is the dream for now. 

An Act of Bravery

For the past several weeks London has been begging to get her ears pierced. She is the same age that I was, 7 years old and it seems a logical request. We discussed the responsibility and she nodded in agreement about the particulars. I asked myself if I was ready for it, because truthfully it is a milestone in my own head that signifies that my daughter is growing up. Like many before me, I am elated and nervous by this fact. Her little swaddled sweetness on my husband's shoulder at 3am still sits in my mind clearly, but now she is reading stories out loud to me and successfully navigating 1st grade.

We went swimming first and I savored the fact that they wanted me in the water-so much so that they were yelling loud enough to make it impossible to ignore their pleas. We played games, did shoulder rides, I threw them like flying fish through the water. The giant smiles that lit their faces up and made the blue and green eyes twinkle filled me with joy to spend my day with them at the pool and just have fun together.

After the showers that seemed to last an eternity, we piled in the car with Gramma Karen and headed to the pinnacle of ear piercing; Claire's Boutique at the mall. I captured a photo of London by the entrance and etched it into my own memory at the same time. She selected her first pair of earrings and then we sat in the chair together because she was nervous. I held her on my lap and hoped it wouldn't be too bad. Zoe stood by and observed her big sister. The two women worked in unison and voila! My girl had pierced ears with pretty turquoise flowers. She cried a little and I hugged her, hoping she could feel the empathy mixed with pride that was flowing through me. She perked up soon after and excitement replaced her sadness. From the back seat on the way home, Zoe asked London if it hurt and London said "a little bit".  My girl was brave.