This is the view out our balcony door on the annual family ski trip.
So you'll forgive me when I say I taking the week off of blogging. I have family to love on, all this beauty to take in, and mountains of preparation for peacoat's migration to the new and improved space next week.
That's right, peacoat is officially making the Big Change next Monday, January 11.
Please stick around - you're going to love it.
I love Christmas at my parent's house in my hometown. My mom makes her already-cozy home so nice for the holidays. Beautiful decorations everywhere.
This year there was something that stood out a little when we got in to town last week. Can you spot it?
The very reason this Christmas was so special.
She is the only reason we spent Christmas Eve on a closed I-35 in the biggest blizzard Oklahoma has seen in decades.
We white-knuckled it from our date night in Oklahoma City back to my parent's house in this ridiculous rental car that I nicknamed Santa's Sleigh.
But who's laughing now? Santa's HHR Sleigh got us through the 4.5 hour trek - normally a 1.5 hour trip - with nary a slip or slide, while we passed literally hundreds of cars stranded on the side of the road.
(This is no photoshop trick - it really is that shade of bright red.)
But wouldn't you make that journey back to this face?
I know. Me, too.
More family time is keeping me occupied during these last few days of 2009. Sweet memories.
She left the driver standing awkwardly on the porch with her bag. The tears were flowing even before she could snatch my child from my arms. Aunts and nieces have a special relationship. I should know.
No Friday links today. I'm very, very busy. There are heads to cuddle and toes to kiss and lots of staring and cooing to do, now that my sister is in California meeting Pigtail for the first time.
We look forward to a weekend of sisterhood chat and loving on my baby.
Happy weekend, peacoat readers!
The Gorilla's parents came out for the week to meet Pigtail. We had a wonderful time and they were so helpful, letting us sleep in every morning by taking the baby practically before the sun came up.
They let us enjoy a date night on Tuesday, then on Friday we took them out to a restaurant that we enjoy.
(Did I mention that on our date night, we happened to sit at the table next to this famous Jackson? We didn't stare. But we could have.)
Grandma and I spent a lot of time analyzing Pigtail's every breath, while The Gorilla and Grandpa took in a mid-week Clippers game. It was good family bonding for all.
They left this morning, but not before Grandma got a spin on the Vespa.
On Friday a fan of my husband's work posted the link to our personal flickr account in a chat room on the JAW website. This is a community of 30,000 people.
Devastated, hormonal, and stuck at the pediatrician's office, I frantically called Megan to change the settings on my account before there was too much damage. By the time I got home, the account had thousands of hits. I probably overreacted with the tears and drama, but it made me so sad to think of all these strangers flocking to look at our personal family photos.
Notice I say "personal," and not "private." I had kept the photos open to a certain extent, so it was probably only a matter of time before this happened. The photos were non-searchable in any way, but if you had the link you had the link. I did this as a convenience for friends and family, so they wouldn't have to join the site or remember a password. I have no idea how the person who posted it got the link, but that six-degrees-of-separation thing comes to mind.
Now. I write this pretty personal blog, and am active on Facebook. I have an old myspace account and obviously I twitter. So it may seem silly that I was upset by this one little bit of overshare. But I control all of that content. I don't use my husband or daughter's real names, and the pictures and stories are chosen with thought. To have the control taken away from me left me feeling invaded, which may seem impossible given how much I put out there.
I've spent the entire weekend thinking this through. This article hit on all the points that have been running through my head. How do we enjoy and take advantage of all the new aspects of technology, while also maintaining a certain amount of privacy? I don't want to be a crazy person about it on either end of the spectrum. I have an added dimension of The Gorilla's life already being somewhat public access, but this incident has made me realize that maybe we still haven't found the right balance yet.
This is not a new topic in the bloggy world by any angle. Or in the internet world in general. But what's that saying? It feels different when it happens to you?
I believe deeply in the bond of Family Friends. I think they can be as or more important than Family. Family Friends are chosen, at least at first, and the relationships of the adults, and the adults to the children, and then the children to the other children, aren't obligatory.
I grew up without a lot of extended family in my life. My father was an only child whose parents passed away when he was a teenager. And we just didn't spend much time with my mom's family.
But I've never truly known the void because there are two other families in my life that I deem as close as any aunts, uncles, or cousins could be.
My parent's best friends from our very small town were my first adult influences besides my own parents. We have spent holidays, vacations, and entire summers together. We have attended births and weddings and funerals. Together, we have survived legal battles, health problems, and major life changes.
We are as family as family gets.
This weekend, the three families are getting together for a reunion of sorts. The first we've had in years where everyone will be in attendance. I am the youngest child of those original six adults, and now I am pregnant with my own child. Time marches on. Our family expands.
The Gorilla and I spend a lot of time wondering and predicting who those relationships will be for our children. Of course, our children will have a strong set of biological aunts and uncles, but they all live very far away. Who are our children going to call when they can't reach us after soccer practice? Who is going to be the hand that nonchalantly reaches out to wipe my child's nose as they run by? Who, in 30 years, are we going to be having summer reunions with?
I suspect we just don't know yet. Those kind of relationships can't be planned.
(I know I've used this photo before, but it is US. My family as I knew it growing up. Except for Pru, who is behind the camera. The second picture is the group, minus two adults and scores of the newest generation of children, at my wedding in September 2007. Photo credit to Rob Garland.)
I've spent the weekend on a houseboat with these mini-pies (lovingly made by my crafty sister-in-law Beth):
and these four munchkins. (squint and look hard to the right for number four, on the floor.)
I am now recovered enough from the week o' family fun to give a pictorial review.
There was a lot of tubing. A lot.
Which means there were many tube crashes. Of all shapes and sizes. Good times.
Continue reading "we not only didn't kill each other, we had a great week" »
What a Fourth of July! I don't know if it's just where I am, or if it's the people I'm with, but this was the most festive Independence holiday I can remember in a long time. There were fireworks all over the lake for two days, and the general spirit is so high.
We spent most of the weekend on the boat and/or eating. Or both at the same time. It's a rough life. We watched fireworks and lit tiki torches. Friday kicked off a full ten days of friends and family at the lake, so it's the best kind of mild chaos.
I took a million pictures with the new fancy camera I got for my 30th. I am a disaster with this camera in my hand. Lots of learning to do, but I'm thrilled even with the "auto" results.
Here's my hot boat captain. I can't imagine life without him.
I've been very open about my love and appreciation for my parents. I have rarely spent a Father's Day with my dad. As a kid, I was always away in the summer, and as an adult, I live 1,500 miles away in either direction. But I always think of him, and am so grateful that I came from him.
There are so many things I could say about my daddy. And, yes, I still call him daddy. So does my sister. It doesn't feel inappropriate. It's just his name.
I could say how he is the one who instilled in me a love of reading and British history. I could say how he taught me never to write anything down that I wouldn't want to be read someday. I could say that his political activism took me to places, literally and figuratively, that I might never have gone.
I could say the way he feeds his friendships has been a model for the most important relationships in my life. I could say that his subscription to People magazine and general love of entertainment made me curious about Los Angeles.
I could say that the gentle way he parents and grandparents melts my heart. How he always has a kid in his arms, and how I'm jealous that my nieces and nephews get all that love on a weekly basis.
I could say, and want to say, that two of my favorite memories with him are watching Gwyneth accept the Oscar for Shakespeare in Love (he seemed to understand why I was crying), and walking down the aisle on his arm, both of us so proud.
All of these things are true, and all of them I am thankful for on this Father's Day. But thing stands about the rest, and I'm not sure I've ever told him this.
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