The "weather" and RSAD (reverse seasonal affective disorder)

Tomorrow is the first day of fall. This is the time of year that I get what my sister just named "reverse seasonal affective disorder." RSAD.

Unlike regular seasonal affective disorder (SAD), where people get moody and a bit depressed during the winter due to lack of sunlight and short days, I feel down during the fall because it is TOO DANG SUNNY AND NICE, and frankly it feels way more like summer than fall. I really, really miss fall.

Now people here will tell you that we have fall in San Diego, but that is probably because they are natives and don't really know what fall is supposed to be like. Oh they bring out the pumpkin patches around town, Target does sell hats and gloves (bah!), people go apple-picking, and there are a few trees that change color around here (I have been known to re-route just to drive by certain trees)...but it's not fall...not in my book anyway.  To me, it's "fall."

In my mind, you should dress your kids like this for an afternoon at the pumpkin patch:

Not like this:

And while I'm on the subject of things that should have quotation marks around them (like "fall"), I'm just going to keep it real here for a minute...we don't even have weather in San Diego, we have "weather." Here's my disclaimer, I'm from Chicago where they definitely have WEATHER.  And I moved here after 7 years in Colorado where there is also full-fledged WEATHER.  But San Diego...no, not much weather. I'm not complaining, just reporting.

The biggest spread between the yearly average low and the yearly average high is less than 30 degrees.  Get the picture?  Average low in December = 49 (brrrr!).  Average high in August = 78 (scorching!). But perhaps in an attempt to fit in with the rest of the country, San Diegans like to talk about weather.  There isn't much to talk about.  I know, I know, it's all relative, and for native San Diegans it IS weather, and it IS fall, and I try to respect that...I try, but I fail.

The weather reports around here are a constant source of entertainment for me because they like to make a really big deal about really little things.  The weather people use terms very loosely like "humid" (40-50%, maybe) and "cold" (one time there was frost on our car when we woke up...one time) and "storm" (a little rain, a little wind). This morning I heard someone on the radio say, "It's a chilly morning in San Diego...67."  Really? Chilly? In February I remember watching coverage of Chicago's biggest snow storm (3rd biggest in history) and NBC cut to the local San Diego weather guy who honestly said, "It's going to be cold out there today. Bundle up your kids." He was referring to 50s, maybe. I laughed out loud.  Bundle up the children? You mean in their light-weight fleece jackets??? These weather people should be a little embarrassed of themselves because the forecast usually looks something like this:

We do have a few interesting weather phenomena here that are worth mentioning, I suppose, like:
     - the marine layer (fog and grey skies which often don't clear until mid-morning) It's hard, I know.
     - the Santa Ana winds (dry and warm off-shore winds)
     - "May grey" and "June gloom"(cloudy overcast skies, often all day long) Don't plan your family 
     vacation to San Diego during these months. Don't feel bad for us either...remember, avg Dec low = 49. 

So back to "fall".  I REALLY miss fall. REAL fall.

I miss a nip in the air, and putting on jackets because you have to, not because you want to change your wardrobe. I miss wool and down.
I miss seeing my breath in the autumn temperatures. I miss drinking hot beverages because you really need them to heat you up. I miss trick-or-treaters who have to wear warm coats over their cute little costumes and flash you at the door to show you their get-ups. I miss football games huddled together with other hat and glove-wearing individuals. I miss mountainsides of bright, bold, glorious yellow. I miss the build up to snow and Christmas (oh, don't even get me started on how hard it is for me to get in the Christmas spirit here). Pumpkins, candy corn, cider, stew, and changing trees go with COLD weather, not 62 degrees. I've tried the fake it til you make it approach where I dress like it is really cold outside, but you know what?  I sweat.

This will be my third "fall" here in San Diego and I can already feel the RSAD coming. If we hadn't traveled so much this summer I would be booking tickets to Chicago.  My husband always reminds me that we can drive to the mountains for cooler temps, but that is different than living in it on a day-to-day basis.

I was born and raised in the Midwest.  My mother is a winter-loving Scandinavian. I come by this disorder honestly. And I honestly don't think it will change. In some ways I am determined that it NOT change. I don't want to become a weather sell-out and join the ranks of the other weather wimps of California (sorry if that offends you, but it's true). I have a lot of family in the Midwest and I do have some pride and heritage I need to preserve.

And on that note, I am going to look in to tickets to Chicago for Christmas...where it is sure to be frigid and miserable and hopefully white...like Christmas should be.

A week. 4 pictures, 4 stories.

Being a stay-at-home-mom (I hate that term!) is always an adventure.  This week was full of more adventures than most. Perhaps in an attempt to make up for the crappy mom that I was last week, I may have out-done myself over the last five days. I'M TIRED.

Here are 4 pictures that tell 4 stories of our week.

Tuesday we went to a small local airport for a field trip with friends from preschool.  It was so interesting to get a backstage tour of an airport that included the TSA screening area, the security camera room, the luggage-mover-thingy, the airport fire truck, the boarding area, and watching many small planes takeoff and land. Well, the moms were interested.  The kids pretty much just liked the fire truck and the Frisbees they got at the end.

Wednesday I did "circle time" in Sam's preschool classroom and talked about Kenya.  At home we have been talking about Kenya and Somalia and the famine there (in preschool terms). Sam took it upon herself to collect coins around the house to cash in and send to Kenya with World Vision. She brought up the topic of Kenya with her preschool teacher last week and when we came to class this week we discovered that it was "learn about Kenya week". Go preschool teachers! Her class made Kenyans flags, they did pottery, and one of the play-centers was turned into an African safari table. I was the Kenya props and story lady on Wednesday and I read them one of our favorite books: For You Are A Kenyan Child.

Here's the thing...I have a BA and a MA in Communication.  I'm comfortable with public speaking. I have taught classes to college students about topics with which I am fairly unfamiliar. But as I sat down in front of 15 four year olds to share about a place I love, and simply read a book, I got NERVOUS. I think I even broke a sweat at one point.

I have always admired teachers, and never wanted to be one, both those thoughts were reinforced for me on Wednesday.

On Thursday I took the girls to the zoo. We have season passes that we should be using much more. The summer tourist crowds have died down and the zoo isn't a zoo anymore - meaning you can actually navigate a stroller through the dwindled crowds and you don't have to elbow your way to the front to see an animal. The baby hippo was definitely the highlight of the day for me. That, and having some quality, undistracted time with my girlies.

And then there was Thursday afternoon when I went upstairs to get Sam out of her quiet time and found her with this new haircut. I hadn't thought about hiding those scissors in the bathroom...dangit. Her new bangs and single sideburn are kind of unfixable, but hey, it could be much much worse.  I'm torn between being bummed out that picture day is coming soon, and being thrilled that this look will be captured forever by a professional.

So there you have it, a week in the life of one mother, a 4 year old, and a 17 month old.

What do they say? The days are long, but the years are short. Yes...yes they are.

Apple-sass

We have an apple tree in our backyard.

The first September we lived here I have absolutely no recollection of what happened to the apples. We moved in during the month of September so perhaps the previous owners had taken the apples with them? Was it because I was pregnant and tired that I didn't pay attention to the apples?  I don't know.

Last year at this time I think we picked apples up off the ground once they had fallen off the tree, and we probably ate a few. Bailey the dog ate A LOT...I won't go in to how I know that. And then there was the rat-in-the-tree incident that scarred Samantha for at least a few months, and still haunts me to this day.  So yeah, I remember apples last year.

This year I was determined to be a good steward of the tree we had inherited.  It was exploding with apples and I didn't want the dog or rat episodes from last year to repeat themselves. Some helpful friends on Facebook directed me to Home Depot and I bought a $40 apple picking device.  How rural of me.

And a couple weeks ago we picked apples.  Man did we pick apples!

We even bought this fabulous thingy that spins and peels and cores the apples,

leaving them in a perfectly cut spiral.  

It's really fun, and easy enough for a 4 year old to do it independently.

This invention mesmerizes children and adults alike.  

Come on over and I'll let you try it.  You'll have a great time.

Abby even gave it a shot.  

I decided applesauce was the most practical end for these apples 

because all four members of my household eat applesauce like nobody's business.

We made a pie too.

 Mostly because I am in my thirties and I'd never made an apple pie before 

...which felt wrong somehow.

The fruits of our labor.  Literally.

Chris, Abby and I have enjoyed our applesauce.
We shared our applesauce with friends too.  

I will probably be making more soon as this tree is seriously out of control.

But did Samantha enjoy the gloriousness of homemade applesauce

...created from the tree she plays under every day

...made with the efforts of her own skinny little arms?

No, she gave me SASS and insisted on eating this applesauce. 

...which I was very annoyed to find in the back of my refrigerator 

while making room for the cans of homemade sauce.

What can you do?

I'm sure there are some things I would prefer store bought to homemade too.

Toll House cookie dough cookies comes to mind.

The applesauce recipe I used is super simple and can be found HERE.  

I used less sugar, and one batch without any sugar.

Mmm, mmm, mmm.

Where were you?

Where were you when you heard the news of the buildings that once stood here?

I was in Kijabe, Kenya...in this gymnasium.

It was sometime after 4pm in Kenya and I was watching a high school basketball game at Rift Valley Academy where I was working as a "dorm mom."

I remember hearing a high school student rush in the gym and say, "they are flying planes into buildings in New York City." At first I thought he was kidding...but he didn't look like he was kidding.  I went immediately to my fellow dorm mom's apartment where I was having dinner later that evening, because she had a TV.  She already had the television turned on to KBC (Kenya Broadcasting Corporation) who was patching in BBC.  I stood there speechless, with the rest of those in the room, and we watched and listened in silence.  And then the buildings were gone. We watched it unfold live from the other side of the planet. And then there was news of the Pentagon.  And a field in PA.

We prayed. What else could we possibly do?

It was such a strange and surreal experience to be separated from my country during this tragedy. There was extremely limited media exposure, we had no Internet on campus, and even email and phone communication was difficult and expensive. I missed a lot about Sept 11th...the coverage, the stories of heroes, the efforts of so many to help with clean-up and recovery, the displays of patriotism. Maybe that is why I have been so drawn to watching media coverage of the 10th anniversary this weekend.

But one thing I did get to experience were the gestures of support and empathy from people a world, or two, away from ground zero. Kenyans would constantly tell us Americans how sorry they were for our country and that they were praying for us. People who were living in poverty were feeling pain for our loss and were praying for us.  It was humbling and remarkable to experience third world support and prayers for America in September 2001.

We had some minutes of remembrance and prayer for 9/11 at church this morning.  And then we came upon this display at a local park where we took the kids after church. A simple act of remembrance, very well done. I think it is really important to remember.

Where were you that day when you heard the news?  
What did you do today to remember?

When the power goes out

Yesterday afternoon around 4pm the power went out.

But I mean it REALLY went out...all of San Diego County, as well as parts of Mexico and Orange County and Arizona (you can read the full story here).  I read that 5 million customers were without power. It took my husband over 2 hours to make the 10 mile drive home from work yesterday.  Apparently traffic lights are very, very necessary.  I also just read that the outage caused a sewage spill in San Diego that closed area beaches. Awesome. I also just read that "human error" was to blame.  I get human error - we are humans, we error. But usually errors don't affect 5 million people. I'd hate to be that particular human.  

When it became clear yesterday that the outage was B-I-G, and the power would probably be out for hours I thought about women giving birth, or people in surgery (what? I did).  How do power outages work at hospitals? Then I realized hospitals have undoubtedly thought about mid-birth, mid-surgery power outages and have backup generators or something.

But you know who doesn't have a backup generator?  My MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group.  

This morning was supposed to be our first meeting, but it was cancelled due to the outage. I should be at our church campus right now prepping balloons and running around like a crazy woman with excitement for a new year of MOPS. But instead, I am at a coffee shop, practically in my jammies, writing about this experience so that I can just MOVE ON and put it behind me. (Yes, the power came back on late last night.)

Here's the thing.  It wasn't the MANY hours that MANY people put in to preparing for our first meeting that upset me most.  It wasn't even the MANY fabulous volunteers who were coming to help work with the kids and had to be cancelled that made me cry (yes, I cried...but that isn't saying much for me).  It was the fact that this wasn't my finest week of mothering that really made me upset about the whole thing. 

I had been working hard preparing for MOPS this week - at the expense of my kids - and now there was no MOPS this week.  Certainly not all of my work was for naught, we will have a second chance at a first meeting in two weeks. But I will NEVER get back that terrible hour and a half running errands at Target and The Party Store yesterday (could you hear Abby's tantrums from your house?), or have the opportunity to handle the terribleness differently. And I will never get the chance to take back my general impatience or inattentiveness with my little munchkins this week.

Here is what the power outage taught me...when the power goes out, what matters the most is how you handled yourself when the power was on.  Things get cancelled all the time.  Weather happens. Power outages happen. When things get cancelled, even important things I have put a lot of time in to, what matters most to me is how I have handled myself as a mother and a wife.  

And although I am just talking about my week and MOPS, there is a pretty obvious metaphor here (that I can't pass up on) regarding the fact that "the power" is going to go out for all of us at some point. I mean totally out...permanently...lights off and not coming back on...ever. Follow me? And what will matter when that day comes is not what we were trying to accomplish, but how we were, and who we were, and how we treated people when "the power" was on.

My great friend Anne tried to comfort me yesterday when I shared that it wasn't my best week of motherhood by reminding me that, no matter what, I had "clothed the naked and fed the hungry" this week (a reference to Matthew 25). I really needed and appreciated that.  She was right. Well, mostly...because at the time Samantha was only wearing underwear and a t-shirt (but it WAS a hot day!). 

A 16-hour date OR Paying for what used to be free

We got to go on a 16-hour date this weekend.  Not that I was counting the hours or anything.

Chris' parents had plans to come to town for another reason (other than us - imagine that!?!) and they offered to come early and give us a date...a big overnight date.  We actually waffled about saying yes for awhile.  It wasn't great timing, as they were getting in late on Sunday night and we had plans on Labor Day, not to mention I had a lot of MOPS work to do.  But, we came to our senses and realized THEY HAD OFFERED and we would be crazy to pass it up.  Besides, our 9th anniversary is coming up next month so we would call this our anniversary celebration.  I always need a really good justification for spending money on myself, so the anniversary was just the thing!

We got on Priceline, picked our region, our quality of hotels (the highest available, please!) and placed our bid.  We were a little nervous as we waited for Captain Kirk to choose where we would be spending our anniversary date...
The Hyatt in La Jolla.  Sounds good to me!

Grandma and Grandpa arrived, the kids were thrilled, and we set out on our date at 6:30pm.  We took our tiny junky truck (sorry honey, just keepin' it real)...the one with NO CAR SEATS...the one we used to make-out in when we were 22 and in college...the one form of transportation we started our marriage with (unless you count a skateboard)...the vehicle in which I learned two lessons:  1. how to drive stick shift  2. I'm not a good student when my husband is the teacher.  Being together in that truck just makes me feel young and in love.  It also makes me feel like I want to pay a lot of money to have it professionally cleaned.

To make a long story short, we had a great date.  We ate at The Melting Pot which has relational significance for us as it is where we used to celebrate big occasions when we lived in Littleton, CO.  We finished dinner and took our REALLY full bellies back to our hotel at 10:30pm.  The hotel was wonderful, and even though we couldn't sleep in (4 years of children will TOTALLY kill your ability to sleep in) we also weren't summoned out of, or joined in bed by little people at 7am.  What a treat!

The morning was completely at our own pace.  We wandered to Starbucks and took a drive up to Mt. Soledad, a place I have wanted to see for some time.  We took in the panoramic sights of San Diego and marveled at the fact that we live in a place were people vacation. We are so blessed.  Then we meandered home via the coastal route and ran a few errands along the way.  16 hours later we returned, hugged our kids, and hugged Grandma and Grandpa even harder.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to these two for that much needed time together!

As I thought about our date two things hit me.  1. Sometimes it is a little bit of work to go on dates, but it is ALWAYS worth it. The prep, the packing, and the clean-up pale in comparison to having precious uninterrupted time with my husband.  Which leads me to 2. We essentially just paid good money (albeit not for babysitting) for what used to be free.

What did we pay for?  16 hours, just the two of us. Waking up in a room where no one else needed us or wanted us. Doing things according to our own clock. Having uninterrupted conversation. Getting out of a vehicle and not having to unbuckle anyone. Walking hand in hand and not paying attention to anyone else but each other. Driving in a car without turning around to tend to the backseat...not even once.

We had all of these "luxuries" for 4.5 years, but sometimes you don't know to appreciate things until they are gone, or at least changed. I never knew taking a shower, or being in the bathroom ALL ALONE would be a luxury. I never knew 16 hours with my husband would become a REALLY BIG DEAL.

But hey, sometimes you have to pay for what used to be free. Sometimes the act of paying for things that used to be free reminds you of what is important and sooooo worth investing in...like marriage, or our kids being able to someday say, Yeah, I remember Mom and Dad going on dates a lot...sometimes even overnight.

Windy Mt Soledad

Updates and happenings

I have been REALLY busy this week doing another job I don't get paid for.  Working for free...it's what I do best. But I only work for free for REALLY good causes...like my family, for instance...or MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers).

A lot of people have been doing a lot of work getting ready for MOPS to start again soon. It's going to be another great year. I'll write more about MOPS later. For now, I have no brain power left, except to mention a few updates on previous posts, as well as a few momentous things that happened this week.

#1  Operation Baby Walk is a success!  Not only is Abby on her feet more than her knees theses days, but this week she discovered "the loop." We did not realize when we bought this home that there was a circular path perfect for parades, chasing, dancing, pulling toys/dogs/siblings, head-on collisions etc...but we know now. "The loop" has provided Abby with a great route for walking practice.  This video is 45 seconds long, but 15-20 will give you the idea.

#2  The Family Cup has arrived...and is in it's rightful place.

#3 We survived Sam's second dentist appointment for a filling today, although it was almost worse than the first.  Here is the TOTALLY UNDESERVED fish I promised her (or maybe he's in the castle).

In defense of Sam's tears, tantrums, and near panic-attacks at her dentist appointments this past week, she did have a tooth pulled (terrible experience!) a few months ago and I think we may still have a little PTSD going on.

And in other news this week...

Samantha can officially write S-A-M-A-N-T-H-A (while wearing a ridiculous outfit, no less).

We had to say good-bye to our favorite babysitter as she leaves for a semester of travel, and then college.

And this is what I walked in on today when I came in my room to get Sam out of her quiet time.

Kind of hilarious.  Kind of creepy (think coffin).

Bring on that holiday weekend...because I need more time to work on MOPS stuff.