Best Day

You know those moments when life just works? We had one today and it was wonderful. Matt let me sleep in, which means intercepting the children before they see the whites of my eyes, fed them breakfast and then got all three of us out the door for me to go to the gym and the chickens to go see their favorite Miss DeAnna... the best part of Gilroy Health and Fitness. While we were gone, he went to the funeral of the patriarch of the Portuguese family who lived across the street from him growing up on Carla Way. I've heard millions of stories about Matt's adventures with the children in this family and I am glad he was able to pay his respects.

When he arrived home, Finley was napping (rare) for more than an hour (rarer) and I was out of the shower and well on my way to having my entire face done (mascara included) and my hair dry and this was all after shaving my legs (let's just say that years have gone by without all of these beauty practices being completed by me on the same day). Anyway, that's not the point of this post. Moving on...

We packed snacks, towels, suits and changes of clothes for the kiddies, an umbrella, two strollers, sunscreen, hats and sippy cups into the Pilot (thank God for our mini-SUV... there are days that I swear we should have gotten the mini-van) woke up a still sleeping Finn, and headed over the ant farm roads that lead to Capitola, our first trip there. Matt posted our plans on Facebook last night so we had plenty of recommendations from seasoned Capitola visitors and former dwellers, and we had a plan of attack. We parked in all day parking, fed the meter, loaded up the Graco and Maclaren and headed off to Pizza My Heart for some of the best pies I've ever tried, and believe me, I am a connoisseur. Mr. Tubach, UCSC graduate and all-around foodie, recommended the Big Sur, which I loved, especially for the giant roasted cloves of garlic, which made me long for the Swiss Hotel in Sonoma and reminisce about our wedding day almost five years ago. Matt loved the Pesto pizza and re-experienced it throughout the day. We sat on the beach, gave Finn a crust and ate our fill, while watching Logan chase seagulls and play in the sand. Since we'd made the mistake of leaving all the beach stuff in the Pilot because we weren't sure what we were doing, we trekked back to the 12 hour parking, lubed up the kids with sunscreen, dressed Logan in his trunks and Finley in her suit, and headed back down to the beach to set up camp and enjoy the day.

Today was Finley's first day at the beach and she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. I'm not sure if it was the utter expanse of the water, all the people, the woman parked in the sand next to us who SHOULD NOT, under any circumstance, have been in the bikini she was wearing or just the newness of it all, but she had her claws dug into my shoulder as I took her down to the water. She was not having it as I put her twinkle toes in the water. She did not enjoy the sound of the surf, and actually let out shrieks of terror any time the water rose around us. She had been more than happy to play in the sand as we ate our pizza... she actually put a giant handful in her mouth and was sporting a sand grill 50 cent would have been proud of before we went back to the car to change into swimming attire, but couple the suit with the water and our umbrella which broke loose from its sand post and hit her in the face while we were getting situated, the beach had ceased to be her friend.

Logan could hardly wait to use all his sand toys in the vast expanse of sand. He was more than content to just sit and play but as I was loosening Finley's grip from my hair and clothing, Matt convinced Logan to run through the waves. He was happy to do so. So while I never actually left our home base in the sand after our first venture to the waves, Finley was happy to sit in my lap and watch the people, I sat in the sand and watched my little boy have the time of his life. These are the conclusions I came to:

• I love my life. Not because of big things, status, or money. But because I have a husband who is a better father than I could have ever imagined him to be. I have two children who are their own people, and I actually like them.
• I have a son who makes me laugh, for real, with wild abandon on a daily basis.
• I have a daughter who can light up the world with her toothy smile.
• I have the chance to watch them grow up.
• For these things I am thankful.

So as I sat on the beach today, surrounded by hundreds of people enjoying the same sunshine, sand and water as I, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I am here in this moment and have this man who chose me over so many others 14 years ago and together, we have created two of the most amazing people I have ever met in our children.

And while I have just a few photographs (of Finley's sand grill) to commemorate the day, my mind is full of the images that I saw today. And if you could go inside my head you'd see the following: a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy laughing, with pure unbridled abandon, as his daddy chased him down to the water's edge, only to "save" him from the waves time and time again. You'd see the man I've loved for the last half of my life play with my son like a child, with no regard for anyone else around them sharing the secrets that are unspoken between a father and his son. You'd see my snaggle-toothed, round-faced cherub bundled up in beach towels snuggled at my breast with one hand entwined in my hair as she danced in her dreams, with all of us always at her reach. You'd see the waves gently crashing on the sand, feel the sunshine mixed with the ocean breeze and smell the seaweed on the summer air. And you'd know that in all my life, in all my wildest dreams, that there was no better day than this.

Wanted Dead or Alive

So, Logan had his first run-in with the law today. Well, the Oak Commons law. Seems he and his little friend, who we'll call "Aaron" (identity protected because he's a minor), were up to no good in our backyard and got caught. Details are sketchy. Truth is relative when there's an angry daddy and three and a half year old as the main subjects, but what I do know is the following:

Said 3.5 year old and his accomplice, "Aaron," were playing in our backyard last night;

• At some point, both boys decided that throwing rocks at the monster in the yard next to ours was a "great" idea;


• Seconds later, rocks were hurled with all the strength two midgets can muster at the supposed monster on the other side of the fence... great digs on a monster's salary, if I do say so myself;


• Not more than three minutes later, Logan's mommy, aka Me, caught the boys doing the above and hollered at them to stop.


• Both boys happily complied, moved on to the water and sand table, enjoyed Dino Nuggets for dinner, Otter Pops (grape and orange, if you're asking) for dessert, and finished the evening playing superheroes in our living room. The rock idea was never revisited.

Cut to this afternoon... our sociophobe recluse of a neighbor, James, the guy who called the City of Gilroy to complain about Matt's "mancave" (another story people on another day), sought out Matt when he got home from work. He approached Matt and told him that he'd seen Logan and the "dark-haired boy" in our backyard throwing rocks yesterday and at the time, had thought nothing of it, because he was so entrenched in his work. Then something hit the window that to his untrained ears sounded like a gunshot (which was not too far-fetched yesterday as there was an alleged gang-shooting at the KFC across the street from our neighborhood). He assessed his health (no gunshot wounds, thank God) and his property, only to discover that something had broken his window. He went out to his backyard, discovered a pile of rocks surrounding the area of the wounded window and concluded that our little felon-in-the-making and his sidekick had broken his window.

Needless to say, Logan spent A LOT of time up in his room while Mommy and Daddy decided what to do. Here's what it came to: Logan was informed that "Aaron" would be coming over with his Daddy and both boys were expected to apologize to Mr. James for breaking his window. They were then to go home and there would be no playdate today or for a few days to come. Logan happily complied and waited, subdued for his friend to come to save him.

We could hear "Aaron" coming from down the street. He was sobbing. He knew he was in trouble and I think the worst part of the whole thing for him was that his mother was not yet home from work but she'd heard about the whole thing and was not happy (to say the least). So, he was terrified, which put the appropriate level of fear into Logan. We trundled up to James' front porch and the boys hemmed and hawed about who would go first. In the end, my little man knocked bravely on the door, and when Mr. James answered, looked him in the eye, bravely proclaimed, "Mr. James, I'm sorry I braked [sic] your window. I will make a better choice next time." My heart swelled to its fullest and I was so very proud of him. His apology was genuine and honorable. Everything I could hope for him to be. When we got home, both Matt and I praised him for 'fessing up and told him that life is full of choices and sometimes we make the wrong ones, but only good things come from telling the truth and apologizing when he did something wrong. He seemed to understand to some extent, and it's a lesson I know we'll have to teach again. Just reminds me that I must also practice what I preach, and that if I want him to grow up to be good and honorable, that I must show him how to do that.

In the meantime, Matt will call our homeowner's insurance provider tomorrow and tell them that while he was mowing our lawn, he hit a rock and it broke our neighbor's window. Aaaah, the irony.

Best news possible

The phone never rang last night, although I'd given up at 10, there was a faint glimmer of hope that maybe Dr. Bahtia would call super late. But no. So, at 8:40 this morning as we were packing up to leave for Logan's school, the phone rang and it was indeed, Dr. Bahtia's office. She had great news for us. Logan's platelets are fine! Best case scenario! Yes, he's still covered in spots, older ones fading, newer ones cropping up all over, but she thinks it's some kind of organic "invasion" possibly from a plant he came into contact with at Gilroy Gardens last Sunday. (Let's not even think about that and all the kids who are around those plants there every day!) So she perscribed a cream to rub into the spots (might as well bathe him in it) and said to call her tomorrow afternoon if he isn't "markedly improved." Hooray! Except for the fact that he still looks a little odd (spots on his eyelid and where his ear lobe meets his face to name a couple) he's just fine and all my visions of illnesses that I won't even jinx myself by mentioning are non-factors. Now, to get him cleared up by August 1 when Titi Meats and Uncle Screwtop get married! The countdown is on! We're all outfitted, practically... I just need shoes as does Logan and Matt needs his entire ensemble. I'm secretly hoping that Finn will be walking by August so she and her brother can toddle down the aisle together.
Super excited that school is out for Matt tomorrow as well! Summer vacay is underway!

Seconds Creeping By

So I've totally freaked myself out. Logan turned up with a weird rash yesterday that looks more like a bunch of broken blood vessels all over his body... and I do mean all over... think groin, armpits, eyelids. No, it's not chicken pox. Dr. Bahtia seems to think that it is partly heat rash, which is a bit strange since it's not been so hot here lately, but she is also concerned about the bigger spots on his body, so she sent him to our local hospital for STAT blood draw. Matt took him. They both survived. He was brave. And I am a puddle. The doctor's office should call first thing tomorrow, and guess who will be first on the call list in the morning, nicely being forceful, trying to figure out what is going on. At this point, as the spots continue to crop up, I am terrified that it is something far greater than anything that I can imagine, but at this point, all we can do is wait, and wait, and wait, and wait. 8 a.m. cannot come soon enough.

Stay tuned for results. I promise I won't make you wait.