Adventure Mom

Little Teeth Showing off big and little teeth in Fiji, March, 2012 Remember your best friend during your baby teeth years?  Remember the one-level rancher where you lived; the taste of sugar cereal in the morning; the feeling of running circles around your mom’s legs; the smell of shaving cream on your dad’s face? “Does it hurt, Dad? Do you hafta do it every day? Can I try?” Life’s uncomplicated with milk teeth. Your biggest worry is how soon your BFF (Best Friend Forever) will return from family vacation, or whether Mom will serve macaroni and cheese (your favorite) for dinner or whether your little brother will LEAVE YOU ALONE. For a change. Life’s simple before your baby teeth start ker-plinging like broken piano keys. Unless your dad dies. Unless your grieving gypsy mother drags you around the world, far from family and friends for a year and-a-half. You lose the milk teeth in time zones nine to nineteen hours away - in London, Luxembourg, South Africa a...

Big, Fat American Life, Part Two Crash Landing It’s week two of My Big, Fat American Life. My dad and stepmom have left, my house mate and her two kids are gone for Spring Break, and now, it’s just Fiona, Finley and me. We’re a threesome again.  Euphoria about returning to the Big, Fat American Life is rapidly dissipating. I’m crash landing. My kiddos have no school this week. I need to finish unpacking the house, so I send them to day camp for three days. I finally have exactly what I wanted: time alone in my Big, Fat American house with my Big, Fat American clothes dryer and Big, Fat American central heating system. It’s tranquil, comfortable, convenient and – lonely. It’s so damn lonely I could cry. So I do. For two days, I can’t stop crying. I’m unpacking photographs of my former family: the one that included Sean. There we are, smiling up at Barb’s camera from a bench in her back yard. Finley’s one-and-a-half. Fiona’s three. Fi wears her best open-mouthed toddler smile and ...

Welcome Back to my Big, Fat American Life (Note: all prices are in US dollars. To convert to NZ dollars, add about 20%) Riding with the 'hood pack It’s like we never left. Being back in Spokane after a year and-a-half away feels like coming home after a week’s vacation. You ask yourself: Did I really go on a trip? Did we really visit Disneyland, Mexico, Italy…? Or wherever your travels took you. In our case, I wonder, Were we just in New Zealand? And ten other countries? Nah, can’t be real. As we crest the hill on I-90, Spokane’s skyline pops into view.  Pine trees dot the landscape. The Coeur d’Alene Mountains flank the area to the East. The day is gray, and somehow, the sky looks different. Maybe it’s the fact North America has an ozone layer, and New Zealand does not.  The atmosphere in En Zed feels thinner. Go outside on a clear day without sun block, and you’ll crisp like a turkey set to broil. I remain in the right lane, turning South onto Highway 195. I’m surpri...