Adventure Mom

  Welcome to your travels - Garden of the Gods, CO Springs, CO Dateline: Santa Fe, New Mexico At an inn near the Plaza If I have to hear Finley talk about farts or perform them one more time, I'll scream. Okay, I already have. The kid needs to get a grip. If he doesn't expand his conversation skills, I'll never marry him off. Potty talk aside, the Grand Southwest Adventure is going... well, it's going. Really, it IS going well. I couldn't ask for a better travel companion than my friend, Shelby. She's a U.S. Air Force pilot (now in the Reserves) and mom to 4-year-old Luke and John, who's nearly 2. She's organized without being rigid. Major Shelby casually mentioned "ops checking" equipment before the trip, as only someone with a military background could. She has a folder full of Google directions, a bag of AAA guides and maps, plus coolers of snacks and containers of kid toys. It makes for a packed, well-stocked Subaru Outback. The kid...

Ash Saturday at Camp Some neighbors ask to borrow an egg, cup of milk, or sugar. I recently asked my neighbor for a tablespoon of ashes. Sean's ashes. I'd meant to pack them for family camp on Lake Coeur d'Alene. Camp Cross http://www.campcross.org/ was the last place Sean and I brought the kids together before he got sick. It's where we've spent every 4th of July (and many Labor Days) since 2005, when Fiona was a not-quite-walking toddler, and Finley was a (large) bump in my belly. We've canoed, changed diapers, sang songs, picked up children after they've rolled off cots onto the cabin floor, eaten s'mores, packed the kids on our backs, and savored grown-up moments alone (with help from other parents and staff). Camp is a place to disconnect from the chores of home and reconnect with each other and with the kind of relationship with God you only find outside. Unfinished Business I wanted to sprinkle part ...

Pisa, Italy, 2008 When you’ve seen, felt, even smelled how quickly life as most of us know it can unwind, the phrase, “life is short,” isn’t cliché or abstract, it’s real. So if you’ve ever had a wish or wild hair, you know the time to act is now. That’s why I’m planning to take a big “time out” to travel with the kids. The plan: travel internationally for about a year. World Experience Travel, and opening our door to people from other countries, was part of Sean’s life and mine before we met. I lived in Luxembourg as a high school exchange student for a year, and stayed in the Grand Duchy again for 6 months while in college. Sean hosted a German exchange student, Max, before we met. Together, we hosted a Swiss student, Angi, before we had kids. Anne, also from Switzerland, nannied for us for half a year after Fiona and Finley came along. Sean and I sent ourselves on a belated 3-week honeymoon to Europe in 2001, then to St. Lucia in 2003. After Fiona arrived in 2004, when s...

I need new. Not necessarily new stuff (although I will always, always consider new shoes), but a new perspective. A new way to see, be, think. I need new like I need cereal and coffee each morning; hugs from my kids; time to myself. But you can't shoehorn new until you pitch the old. So, in the literal and metaphorical senses of purging, I'm cleaning house. One of the most satisfying experiences I've had the past week was pitching a minivan full of mementos, duplicate photos and assorted household junk at the dump. I even purged most of the cards we received at our wedding. Not because I'm unsentimental, but because they don't comfort me or give me a sense of history the way pictures or journals do. I also culled my mountain of sympathy cards. I lost Sean's journal around the time he died, in January. I was heartsick about it, because he'd written of his excitement leading to the birth of our first child, and recorded her milestones for months after. I...

 I jumped from a cliff in Oregon last Friday. Actually, I ran straight off. There was nothing unpleasant about that particular patch of grass high above Oceanside. But standing with my feet planted on the ground was preventing me from completing an item on my “bucket list:” flying. Strapped to a harness, an emergency parachute and my instructor pilot, Todd, I launched into my first paragliding experience (for an explanation of what paragliding is, click here): http://discoverparagliding.com/Pages/faq.html#WhatisPG It was glorious. I sat against the back of my chute and felt the wind against my face. I felt birdlike, calm, free. Todd steered over the tops of pine trees and the roofs of houses. I waved to a man on his deck below. I listened to waves crashing against Three Arches rocks and inhaled the salt air. Flinging yourself from terra firma isn’t easy. I could’ve knit a sweater between my knocking knees, I was shaking so much. But the desire to soar triumphed over attachment t...