Friday, February 24, 2017


I knew the storm had been gone for days and that the next one wouldn't be here for a few more, but the ocean can be so intimidating even when it's still, like a dead spider. 

The waves were olive green, which I consider shark water. The Discovery channel always likes to point out how most attacks happen by accident when the sharks are unable to see that a human isn't a blubbery seal. The sky looked busy, like it didn't even have time for its half-sister the ocean, let alone for me. The birds were occupied too, but they always are. They look at you like you're in their world, but they don't know or care why; unless you have Doritos. Then they will care enough about you to get in an amazingly public brawl with their friends just to maybe get one bite of a damp, disheveled hotdog bun. Anyways, I'm getting off topic. I came here to say that today I went surfing while my dad watched Avalon. He came all the way down to San Diego to watch her so the mermaid in me could have the best of both of her worlds. My mom does this all the time, too. I think sometimes it feels like mother's do so much for us that it almost becomes ordinary, even though it's the opposite.

Today I felt like one of those robots you make as a kid out of empty cereal boxes, toilet paper rolls and not sticky enough tape. My arms didn't feel like they belonged to my body. Even my teeth were cold! But still, it's always so good; a special occasion to feel completely inanimate and then the exact opposite.

{+my wetsuit is by roxy from wetsuit wearhouse :}

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Rolling Stones

I've had very memorable surf sessions lately. Maybe it's because the water is so cold that they are frozen into my brain, but I think it's my new board. The thing slices through cold winter waves like one of those fancy knives artfully ices a cake. It's that, or that I know how to appreciate each fleeting moment more; the simple mundane beauty of grey water and grey sky and time to myself with both.

The other morning Scott, my dad and I paddled out at a near 6.0 foot tide with swell of the same height; the waves smashing into the cliffs and washing back out to sea like they were part of an assembly line. Most of the beach is a smooth pile of rocks lately. They look even more vibrant when the water soaks into them like a fresh coat of lacquer. You'd never know one of these rocks was sage green or robin's egg blue unless it was soaking wet.

That session made me feel like my eyes were half closed because all of the elements were bearing down on them. It all felt spooky, the shaper, Chris, who made my new board, appearing through the fog like a zombie in a horror movie. It all felt right too, watching my dad slide across a mountain of water in slow motion thanks to my numb eyes. Avalon and my mom were watching from the cliff practicing yoga and using boogie wipes. Scott was in his element with surfing at the forefront of his mind. 

I've been having wild dreams again: Aunt Liz' cabin, alternate endings to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, imaginary indoor skateparks on mountaintops in Oregon.

My mind in the day feels nearly as frozen as my body has lately. I was sick a few weeks ago in the kind of way where my mom had to be there. I could not get up, I could not make Cheerios. Although, there is maybe another reason my mind has been paused: There is a baby. The kind that makes you sick because chicken has skin, nervous to twist your back and hopeful that something so surreal is actually natural.

There is a baby the size of a lime waiting to see the world in September. When I think about where my mind has been, it's there, focused in, focused forward, wondering where we're going next. 

Avalon is done nursing. She won't drink any other form of milk so far and there is some messed-up part of me that is super flattered by that. 

My life right now is small murmurs of 'Mama' after a nap. It's wanting to buy nothing but bread and couscous and apples at the grocery store. It's an ultrasound and a swimming baby; closing my eyes to focus on a heartbeat I've never heard before. It's making new friends, loving old ones like comfort blankets, needing both so earnestly; Avalon's running, climbing, growing feet, her new whine. It's Scott's new snore and watching the movie Lion and bawling because I've always wanted to adopt too.

Our life is all these small moments like the stones on the beach, washing around, crashing together, being misplaced, forgotten and then found again, washed off, shining in the sun.

+p.s. the pictures of Avalon's room demonstrate how I am dealing with the anxiety associated with intense change, I mean *nesting*. I re-organized her clothes and made a drawer for Skip's (what we're calling the fetus this time). I re-did the mobile and hanging pictures. These are 1930s pictures of Avalon Harbor in Catalina from a dear friend.
+my wetsuit is by roxy from wetsuit wearhouse. It has gotten me through this winter of rain and reminded me of the brightness of both winter and spring.
+other things to note: the morning sickness has been bad, but not nearly as bad as it could be. I basically just feel sea sick from noon on. We might find out the baby's gender this time, but we haven't officially decided. We have zero names if it's a boy. Please help!
+finally, thank you for being here reading and supporting, as always. 

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Dear Sprout, Happy Valentine's Day

Dear Avalon,

Today is Valentine's Day. We are sick. You have far more energy than I do. I'm thinking of a quote from one of my favorite authors, Catherine Newman, that goes "The trick isn't to love your life when it's perfect. The trick is to cherish the messy beauty." 

Messy beauties lately include falling down dirt paths, swallowing salty sand, wiping yellow boogers, eating raw pasta out of your sensory table, feeding yourself yogurt and having new teeth pop up like spring tulips in a mouth trying to make words. 

For me there have been a lot of food aversions and nap-times spent adding items to virtual shopping carts I will never check-out of. 

I love you bug. Dada loves you too. He doesn't even usually get his shoes off until you're in bed because he comes home in such a hurry to be with you. 

We're so glad you're here, that's all. 


Friday, February 3, 2017

Dear Sprout,

Dear Avalon,

Today we went to a puppet show at the library. You mostly wanted to jump on all the mats that the librarians set up as seating. I talked you into sitting in my lap and sucking on your finger skateboard instead. Towards the middle of the performance, you scooted over and sat on your own, offering your slobbery toy skateboard to a little girl holding two princess figurines. You tried earnestly, but she was not interested.  When the wicked witch puppet made her entrance, you laughed. You are our brave girl.