Adventure Mom

Father’s Day June, 2004 “I had a premonition about you even before we found out your mom was pregnant. I see a big head of dark hair like your mother. You are going to be so cute…” July 14, 2003: Sean wrote in a journal after seeing the first ultrasound of Fiona in utero. He wanted to write often and eventually give Fiona the journal when she was 16. June 17, 2012: I used to love Father’s Day. That first holiday after Fiona was born, I imprinted her chubby hands in a clay craft store kit attached to a picture frame. The photo displays Fiona’s apple cheeks, thick, dark hair and white cotton stripey dress. That bambina’s face would turn any daddy’s heart to Cream of Wheat. Fiona and Sean were smitten.  She would plant her toothless mouth on Daddy’s chin and gum him as if sucking milk from a breast. Sean would laugh and say, “Look – she’s eating me!” We learned one year after Fiona was born we were pregnant again. We waited several weeks after the five months’ ...

Where do You Love? Spokane River, Downtown A friend asked me today, during a walk along the Spokane River, if I loved New Zealand beyond Pete. Meaning, do I love the place? Its people? The rhythm of its days, the smell of the air, the potential it holds for me and my kids? I've answered this question many times, and the reply usually goes like this: "I do love the country. It's beautiful; I have good friends there; I can run outside year-round. I don't like unheated homes, the high cost of living and hanging wash on a line to dry, but I think I can work around those challenges." After my friend and I parted ways, a new-ish thought hit me as my minivan and I bounced along the frontage road that leads to I-90: Loving a place and its people has more to do with how it helps you grow during a particular time in your life than anything else. Set aside the statistical abstract, including your job, cost of living, home and daily routine. Why do you love (or not ...

Back to En Zed Part Two I haven’t told Kiwi friends about this brief return to The Mount. My priority is spending time with Pete. My plan: tiptoe into the country unnoticed. Ha. I’m waiting at the Auckland domestic terminal for the flight to Tauranga when I spot a familiar-looking Kiwi bloke. I can’t place him immediately.                 “Dawn?” he says. “What are you doing here? It’s Matt. Michelle’s husband.” Of course. Michelle’s one of my Jogger friends. I laugh and tell him I’m in for a quick trip to see The Partner.                 “I couldn’t stay away,” I say, as we approach the jetway to board the plane. Buckled into my window seat, I gaze at grayness outside. Propellers on the aircraft’s twin engines chug to life, dispersing a circle of rain water beneath. We’re nearly on our way. Excitement builds in...

Back to En Zed  Part One She was never so happy to see such a big bird. Its long white body and ocean-blue tail with white whirls gleams in the twilight. She peers into its glassy eye, imagining she knows its soul – understands its path – can predict its next flight. I’m about to land at Los Angeles International Airport when I spot the Air New Zealand plane. I feel my mouth stretch wide in an ear-to-ear grin: the Maori design –swirls of white against blue - on the plane’s tail look like home. I’m going home. Home. I think I may finally know where home is. I’ve lasted nearly two months – 55 days - in Spokane before returning to New Zealand. I probably would’ve fled sooner, if I didn’t have to organize care for Fiona and Finley. My poor kiddos. Without their mom for a week while I visit The Partner. I couldn’t stand to be away from Pete any longer. Fool for love. I’ve spent $1400 for one week of kid-free time with The Partner. I bought my ticket about six weeks ago ...

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...