Exploring a new beach

When Dave and Jewel were small we would spend sometimes six weeks visiting here. We used to picnic at a beach near where my mom was living at the time. We would drive her to work, come back and spend the day at the beach, then go back to pick her up from work.

Sean and I have been going to the one closest to our house, but yesterday we ventured out to the beach I used to take his brother and sister to, on the other end of the peninsula. We started out at the one closest to us, and it was our first beach visit this summer. Our weather has been anything but summer weather, so yesterday was perfect for it. Sunny and 70s. The tide was out pretty far.

He found crabs, and though he's been digging in sand and picking up crabs since he was a baby, for some reason it took on a new meaning for him yesterday. He wanted to bring some crabs home as pets.
I decided it could be a great way to learn more about them, and we scooped some sand, rocks and seaweed, etc. into a container. When we got it all home and set up, we knew we didn't have enough water. Instead of fighting traffic to get back to that same beach, we went to the other one for more water.
We put all of it in an old fish tank that we've had sitting empty for a few years.

I'm not sure how long this pet crab thing will last. It made sense to me that the tide changes are important to the sea life, and they probably need fresh water at least once a day. So today we went back to the same beach and collected some fresh salt water for them.
Of course while we were there, we had to enjoy the 80-degree weather and do a little exploring.
Sean took his Spider Man board and tried to do what he could in the shallow water. The tide was way out while we were there.

We had to walk quite a ways to get to the water, and it was rough terrain. Luckily I remembered to bring our water shoes. There's no barefootin' it on these beaches. Barnacles are like razor blades.

Speaking of, some of the rocks we have in the crab tank have barnacles on them and it is fascinating to watch them. 

I thought this tree was really cool. Sean climbed on the roots a bit and explored the shoreline.
This beach is a lot easier to access than the one we usually visit.  I think we'll try a third one next time, if the weather holds for us.
We love living here. I think he would hate living in the city. He was born to climb trees and dig in the dirt. Today he was turning over rocks on the beach and reaching his hand in murky waters to catch crabs.

A step back to go forward

Though he certainly hasn't changed his mind about getting his picture taken, Sean has changed so much recently.
For a few weeks he has been doing some of the things he did as a 5 or 6 yo. He has always loved to cuddle and have "us time." We sit on the couch and watch a favorite movie or read a book and snuggle. He also started playing with some of his old toys, and wanted to read some of the old books. And right now he is sitting in the living room wearing his old Spider Man suit. It is really tight on him now, and the legs look like the Incredible Hulk's pants. I had to mend it because it had rips in the seams from so much wear. At one point it was difficult to get him to change into regular clothes. He actually wore it to the grocery store and some other places when he first got it. (He got some great comments from other kids and dads.)
It is always interesting to me to see the different stages that kids go through. I think this behavior is probably a sign that he's going to leap forward, and his little mind and body are visiting the past.
Of course he will always have the opportunity to read those books, play with those old toys and especially snuggle with mom. (I think we'll have to buy a bigger Spider Man suit if he still wants one.)
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he has been getting up in the morning, coming out of his room with clothes on, and bed made, and doesn't even come out to the living room until he has brushed his teeth. It's something new. I used to have to remind him to do those things.
He's better about picking up his toys and I've made him the recycle and trash guy. He has to take the cans out to the street, and he empties the inside recycle container into the outside can. He likes the responsibility-- but not all the time, of course.
I bought him a cheap pay-as-you-go cell phone before he went to Calif. and I put a bunch of mins. on it so he could call me. He didn't use it much while he was there, so there are still a lot of mins. left. A few days ago he got into trouble because he went to a friend's house without telling me, and when I called out for him he didn't answer or arrive. So I went looking, my mind filled with awful thoughts of what "could" happen. I'm following the Kyron Horman case closely, and it gives me chills. (Looks like it could be a close family member, but still.)
I finally found him and told him he was grounded for a couple of days. Yesterday he asked to go to that friend's house again, and suggested he could take his cell phone. I told him he had to call me at 7:50 p.m. In the summer, his bath time is usually 7:30 or 8, so I wanted him home by 8 p.m.
He called at 7:45 and asked if he needed to come home yet. I told him he had 5 mins. and he called again at 7:50 to say he was on his way home.
He's growing up so fast. I can't believe he's going to be 8 years  old soon.

Monitors: Not just for babies

I'm coming up with a list of things that I have found helpful. 

First on my list is the Baby Monitor.

My aunt Gwen recently called to ask if she could have hers back. She found it at our favorite thrift store about four years ago when my grandmother had hip surgery. I think she paid $2 for it. 

My aunts and my mother took turns staying with grandma day and night. The monitor was great. They could take it anywhere in the house and do what needed doing, and still attend to grandma's needs.

Once my grandmother was back to her old self, that monitor was put away. But we brought it back out when my mother was on Hospice care here and I was her caretaker. For a while I was sleeping on the couch just to be sure I could hear her if she called for me. Her room was just on the other side of the living room wall. But my aunt offered the monitor, and I was able to sleep in my bedroom again. 

Now I'm giving it back to Gwennie.  Her youngest grandchild and daughter-in-law have come to live with her while her son is serving in the Navy. 

If you know of someone who is caring for an adult, a baby monitor could be a great gift. They really aren't just for babies.

Stitches and gray hairs

Well, I knew it would happen sooner or later.
Last week Sean was playing outside with his friend and fell on the road. He came limping home, hysterical and spit out a piece of tooth. I saw a little bit of blood, but not much. I was surprised he was so upset.
I brought him inside and had him on the couch, got a cold cloth and wiped his face and then I saw it.
A deep gash just under his chin. It's that part you can't really see unless someone has their head tilted all the way back.
We made a trip to the ER. It was late, I had had a rough day, and was preparing for an even rougher one the next day. We got home around 11 something after several hours of him crying, worrying, being terrified, screaming, and quite a bit of resistance. It would have been fine if the numbing medicine had worked. When the guy came in to wash the wound it stung really bad, and that set the tone for the evening.
They numbed it more, but then he didn't trust them at all. So when they came back to wash it again he was a basket case.
Same with the stitches.
Now fast forward to Tuesday, the day he had to get them removed.
Bad scene. Our appointment was at 11:30 a.m. We were finally leaving the Dr. office at 1:30. He was afraid it was going to hurt, and had already decided he couldn't trust nurses and Dr.s anymore.
I'm pretty sure I've got a few more gray hairs than I had last Wednesday.

Change is in the air

I feel a change comin' on. I don't know about other people, but for me change seems to come in a big chunk. I can usually feel it coming, and there is always anticipation and a little bit of uncertainty with it.
I've had to make some changes with the newspaper. I'm restructuring, and there is a lot of excitement, stress, sadness, and possibility. For some I know it will be scary and I might even lose some people in the process. I truly do believe I'm doing what's best in order for us to grow and put out a better publication.
There is also a change coming here at home. I homeschooled Sean last year with Montessori philosophy and materials. I use that term philosophy loosely because I am not a trained Montessori teacher. I have a Montessori outlook on learning. I think he did fine here, but given the chance I would rather have him in his old Montessori school. Part of the lower elementary education is collaborating with other children, learning from the olders, and mentoring the youngers.
There is just no way to get that at home. So while I definitely prefer having him home as opposed to a classic public classroom, I really prefer that he continue with his Montessori education in a Montessori classroom.
During his summer camps I have been talking with various people and found out that a public school near us is converting to Montessori. The school has gotten a bunch of grants, etc. and they are phasing in Montessori for pre-K, K, 1 and 2 grades. Of course in Montessori, the pre-K and K are the Children's House, and the 1 and 2 grades will be combined.
Their plan is to build a brand new school, starting on it next year, and convert the entire school to a K-8 public Montessori school. There is already one school in that district that has been a huge success. The lady who turned that school around is now coming in as principal at this one.
I'm beside myself with excitement.
We visited today. I wanted to first know if he would even be accepted, since we live in a different district. It was easy peasy. I had to get a release form from our district to transfer him to that one, and that was surprisingly painless. (I've never had good luck with any "school" bureaucracy, whether it was elementary or college.)
I didn't really talk to Sean about it very much because I wasn't sure if we could get in. I didn't want to stress him out for nothing, nor get him excited for nothing.
He prefers to stay home, but honestly I have seen a big difference in him since he started camps, and it is a positive difference. I just hope it will be the same at this school. XX(That's me crossing my fingers.)
I felt like this move was meant to be. As soon as someone explained what they are doing there, I thought it was the answer for us. I can't afford private Montessori. He's going into second grade, and just makes the cut for their Montessori plans. AND, a teacher from his former school will be teaching a first-second class. If this works out, he will have had Montessori education from the age of 4.
So we met the most friendly office lady, Michelle, and she was very helpful and welcoming. She said we could have a look around in the rooms, though they don't have everything in them yet. They expect a shipment tomorrow of the equipment and furniture.
Sean had his face in a sour pout, so we stopped first at the library. Strategic plan on my part. He loves books, and the library was his favorite room at his old school. I knew this one would be larger, and he fell in love at first sight.  He could have stayed all day looking at the books.
This move is a huge leap of faith for us. This school has been a very poor performing school. The enrollment has dropped dramatically over the years. It's a very old building. It's public school.
For him, it will be a big change. He doesn't always do so well with change, so I hope that he will settle in nicely there. I'm going to be very watchful. If it just isn't working out, we'll change back to homeschool.

Retreat is a treat

Yesterday was the Key Peninsula News retreat. I used it as a day to talk about where we've been, where we are and where we're going. I scheduled one guest speaker ( a retired attorney) who talked to us about defamation. None of the people on staff have had journalism classes, so this subject is somewhat new for them. I think they know about libel and slander in general, but George Robison gave us some great information and sited specific cases in his presentation. (He made it clear he wasn't giving legal advice, only teaching us about the subject.)
Lori, our ad rep, graciously offered her farm as the location for the retreat. It was a beautiful day, and a lovely setting. It was a treat just to hang out there for the afternoon.
Her farm is beautiful. We had a delicious light breakfast as people arrived, and I decided this year to have the event catered. Last year we had it at the home of one of the volunteers and it was sort of potluck with sandwich trays, etc. I chose not to buy gifts for staff this year, and instead put the money into the food and have a "staff appreciation lunch."  I have to say that my assistant editor was instrumental in securing the caterer and did a wonderful job of working with Lori to make sure everything came together.

This is where you walk up to the small pavilion. That's a little rock wall with a small rock stairway between the flowers.

Here's where we had our speakers of the day, and light breakfast and lunch.

I didn't get a photo of it, but Lori made scones from scratch with homemade marmalade and berry preserves, and the coffee was from Ravensara, a local coffee shop.

The small pavilion is positioned in the middle of the vineyard. 

Chef Dorne Webster prepared Salade Nicoise featuring grilled salmon. DELISH!!We also had lemonade, tea, water and a sampling of Lori's wine. 

I think it was a great day. We had good information throughout the day, from libel, to what we're doing with social media, and plans for our new web site.

Here's the view of the water and Mt. Rainier from the grounds. We didn't have this view from the pavilion, but we took a little walk around the farm at the end of the day. 

New attitude

I'm procrastinating. I have about an hour before I have to make a trip to Tacoma, and I should be working on my presentations for the staff retreat tomorrow.
I work best under pressure, though I sometimes push it a little too far and almost kill myself to make a deadline.
When I'm working on deadline, I'm in a zone. I think the house could crash down around me and I'd barely notice. When I step back and look at what is happening from an outside point of view, I imagine people would think I'm insane. Maybe I am.
There's a quote from the movie Barfly, "Anyone who could ever write worth a damn could never write in peace."
I should have a house full of Pulitzers.
Here's what my day looks like:
I run Sean where he has to be, come home and work a couple of hours, then rush back out to pick him up. We get home, and Sean and his friends play nerf guns, complete with sound effects and whoops and screams, trampling through the house to take cover, or hide. Nerf bullets whiz through the air, sometimes past my head. They call out to me for more juice, a snack that is out of reach, or help fixing a jammed nerf gun. They argue, they yell, sometimes one of them gets hurt and I have to intervene. This all takes place around me as I write and edit.
So this is my life. And I love it. Some days not as much as others, but all told, I like having children around me. In fact, I prefer this over an office filled with adults who ACT like children--and not in a good way.

Now, I have never been a great housekeeper. I just admit it. I like having a clean home, I just am not very good at keeping it that way. And during deadline? you can forget about it. Once deadline is over, I'm a cleaning fool. All those things that didn't get done, like sweeping, mopping, taking out the recycle (I can't deal with trash, so we do get that outta here) laundry, vacuuming, all of that gets done the day after I'm off deadline.

Not so long ago, I would have never let anyone into my home in the condition it is in today. It is in a shambles. Sean's shoes are scattered in the middle of the floor, together mind you, but still in the middle of the floor. There's stuff on the dining room table, there's a bike in the entry and you can barely get the door open, we have a large cooler sitting in the area between my bedroom and the kitchen, and there is junk, wrappers, and small toys on the coffee table. Oh, and those nerf guns are everywhere in the living room--chair, sofa, table, floor, everywhere. He has an arsenal. (Don't like guns? Don't come here. I have done my best to be a peace teacher, it ain't happenin' here. This boy has guns in his blood. I keep trying though. I'll post about this gun thing soon.)

So, as I said, not so long ago I would never have let anyone in when the house is in this kind of shape.
Today a neighbor called to say she was bringing a catalog over.
Maybe it's the fatigue from working non-stop for days on end, maybe it's the insanity, a possibility I referred to already, or maybe I'm just ready to say &^%% it. You don't like it, I don't care. You have a problem with the way my house looks, then come on over and we'll have a cleaning party.
She came over, and I invited her in. Yep, I invited her INSIDE. She didn't really come in. She stood at the door, but she had full view of the whole mess. She seemed OK, but I wonder if inside she was horrified.:o)

Some people can do all of what I do and still maintain a beautiful home. I admit that I wish I could. I have just gotten to the point of acceptance. I accept that I can't, and I'm still OK. You know what? The world hasn't come to a screeching halt because I'm not a good housekeeper. Nobody has died because we have stuff on the table, and I don't think I'm a bad person because I have dishes in the sink.

Cleanliness is next to Godliness. Maybe. I tend to think I'm pretty close to God, and I see a lot of people who are pretty uptight about being clean and they don't seem to have that Godly glow.

Oh, and I didn't even talk about the back yard. I hope rain is not in the forecast. The yard. Now that's a subject I could go on about too. Another time.