Bike ride picnic

On Saturday, I dusted off my fun-mom skills and took the kids on an adventure. It was the first track meet of the season, and Jeff left for the high school on his bike at 5:55am (I was barely conscious). Whenever Jeff is gone for long periods of time, my usual homebody-ness flees and suddenly I become adventurous go-go-go, do-do-do Shaina. Last summer when Jeff spent four days at an education conference in California, I took the kids on a three day two night camping trip at the beach, all by myself. It was awesome and I loved it. That same wanderlust bug bit me again during Jeff's 14 hour absence on Saturday. When the track meets are within an hour of our house, we usually like to visit Jeff at the meet and watch a few races, but this weekend's meet was way out in Euphrata, WA and the kids begged not to go. So we stayed home and planned an adventure of our own.

Soul-care

Piano "retirement" is treating me kindly. I have not touched the Children's Songbook since the day I was released from the responsibility to play for kids' singing time at church (two months and one day ago). In fact, I didn't touch the piano at all for a solid two weeks after that bittersweet Sunday in January. Then the desire to play slowly crept back into my fingers. I took it easy, only playing when I wanted to. The healing process cannot be rushed, and I was healing from a year and three months of major musical pressure.

Reading in the dark

Most nights I like to lie in bed and read for a little while before going to sleep. Last night Jeff was busy falling asleep while I stayed up a little longer to finish reading a book on my Kindle. The room was quiet except for Jeff's breathing. The room was dark except for the soft glow of my Kindle. I was on my back snuggled all the way under the covers, my head propped up on a pillow, with just one arm out to hold the Kindle. My long hair kept tickling my neck. It's been nearly ten months since my last haircut, and something needs to be done. I just don't know what, so I keep putting off the inevitably risky haircut. Anyways, last night my hair was bugging me while I laid on my back trying to read. I lifted all of my hair up and fanned it out on the pillow behind me so it was off of my neck. Then I went back to my book. In the faint light reflected off my Kindle screen, the shadows on the bedspread started playing tricks on my eyes. Twice I thought I saw something move. I forced myself not to think about it and finished reading my book. Suddenly, there was no mistaking that scuttly movement, even in the dark out of the corner of my eye.

The Amb-monster strikes back

Amber is the star of more than her fair share of my posts, but the girl is a force of nature and one of my best coping mechanisms for that kind of intensity is writing it out. Today's topic: errands with Amby.

The child is a MONSTER of a shopping companion. That's all I really need to say, but I'll illustrate the statement with a florid saga of our most recent errands together.

Bitter

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Dear Winter,

It has been a long time. I can't help but notice that you seem more bitter than usual, inexplicably holding on to iciness and pain when it's time for softening and joy. You have overstayed your yearly visit, and every time I ask you to leave, you lash out with another bitter storm. Please know that bitterness is not the answer. Yes, it is in your nature to be cold, but you are choosing to be bitter. You can be cold without being bitter--you've done it before!

Amb-Reading

Reading to kids is such an easy low-key way to spend positive quality time together. My mom read so many books to me for my entire childhood and beyond--she still reads books to me even now. (well... she reads books to her grandkids and I listen in...) Reading has always been a huge part of my life. I love books!

France by the dozen

It has been 15 days since Jeff and I got home from our trip to France, and I have just finished writing all of the stories of our adventures. The freezing winter weather, ice, and snow lingering into March has not been good for much, but it has been great for writing. In fact, I think the bad weather at home was a major reason that I wrote so much about our trip. I needed that escape. Curling up under my warm laptop, swathed in blankets while reliving our travels was a delightful escape. I went to France twice during February: once in person, and once in my mind while I wrote about it. Now I am officially officially home from France. No more escaping to write about another adventure during Amber's afternoon cartoon time. Sniff.

From Paris to Sunnyside

Our flight home wasn't until 1pm on Monday, February 18th, so we had time for one last six mile run through Paris. This time we headed up to Montmartre to see what sunrise looked like from the vantage point of Sacre Coeur Basilica.

Dimanche dans Paris

Sunday, February 17th was the last full day of our blissful week-long sojourn in France. I was sad about it, but also starting to feel quite tired from all of the intensity of the week. My fatigue didn't stop me from taking another soul-lifting stroll along the Seine to Notre Dame before church. The novelty of experiencing actual sunshine and blue skies on a trip in February never got old. I strolled around the peaceful Sunday morning streets, took a few pictures, listened to the bells of Notre Dame ring, and then walked back to our apartment to finish getting ready for church.

Saturday in Paris

When Jeff and I travel together, Jeff marvels that I have so much extra energy. He says "You suddenly have this superhuman boundless energy! You go on three extra walks per day, even though we already ran seven miles and walked eight miles." I laugh in response, because it's true. I find being in an exciting new place invigorating and I MUST explore! My reasoning is that resting is wasted time, and I can rest when we get home.

Notre Dame in the morning

After a quick breakfast on our first morning in Paris (Saturday, Feb 16th), I slipped out of our silent apartment and went for a slow solo stroll around Ile Saint-Louis along the Seine at sunrise. Jeff needed more rest at home, so I embarked on my own. It was pleasant to amble around without a destination, absorbing the sleepy morning ambiance of downtown Paris. When Jeff and I walk together, we usually have a destination in mind and we walk briskly. On my own, I was free to wander slowly, pausing often to drink deeply from the calm that is unique to early morning, even in an enormous city. In my three previous visits to Paris, I had never stayed so deep downtown, and it was a delightful treat to be able to walk two blocks from our door and be standing on a bridge over the Seine, looking across the calm water at the spire of Notre Dame Cathedral.

A Perfect Storm

Monday (Feb 25th) marked one week since we got home from our week in France. The jet lag was no longer debilitating, but I still felt a healthy portion of lingering fatigue. The river of life pulled me along in its strong current, always slightly faster and deeper than I wanted to swim. I wanted time to lie on my back and float gently in the calm water, but instead found myself navigating rocky rapids on an empty tank.