Good Dads
14!
Denver, Co
I recently spent a week in Denver, Colorado at NAFSA, a conference for international educators.
We had barely stepped off the plane when a couple of my colleagues and I headed to Red Rocks Amphitheatre to watch The Big Lebowski…but really to see the awesome Red Rocks Amphitheatre.
Unprepared for the chilly mountain air and not yet acclimated to the two hour time difference, we had to leave halfway through the movie to head back to the hotel.
We had to get a good night’s sleep so that we could enjoy all the scintillating presentations the next day…
…at the Colorado Convention Center.
Haka dancers opened for the keynote speaker:
New York Times columnist David Brooks:
And Aloe Blacc sang at the opening celebration…
With all the conference sessions, we had very limited time to explore Denver, but we did get to see a few things.
NYC has a Duane Reade on every street corner. Denver has its own kind of corner pharmacy:
The perils of smoking too much pot?
You could smell it everywhere, but not at the Convention Center!
Larimer Square:
Our Uber driver told us, “Don’t bother with the Denver Art Museum. If you really want to see something you won’t see anywhere else in the world, go to the Clyfford Still Museum!” And so we did:
I still kind of wish I had gotten to see the Denver Art Museum, or the Museum of Contemporary Art…(Next time)!
We loved the shops and restaurants at Union Station…
and the Tattered Cover Book Store was fun to explore:
In the Cherry Creek neighborhood on our last evening in Denver, we happened upon Osaka Ramen:
which had pretty good ramen:
…interesting “My Wife’s Donuts,” filled with mochi, dusted with kinako sugar, and served with salted butter:
and the most delicious french fries I’ve ever had anywhere:
We went back to our hotel and spent our last few hours in Denver admiring the views of the city at night in Peaks Lounge on the 27th floor of the Hyatt Regency Denver:
Our flight back home the next day, or at least the DC to Charlottesville leg of it, was spectacularly horrifying. After three or four delays, we were finally allowed to board the plane hours more than three hours after we were supposed to depart.
As I walked across the tarmac, I peered into the cockpit. I was alarmed to see that the pilot looked young – as young as a college kid maybe…like an inebriated frat boy type maybe. He was tossing his head back and guffawing. Uneasily, I took my seat and dutifully listened to the announcements.
I’m sorry you all had to wait here for so long. I don’t know why they didn’t send you home on a reserve plane, and instead put you on this plane, which hasn’t been serviced in a while. I tried to spray down the bathroom, but, well, you know what happens when a plane sits outside in the heat for days…
My colleague and I glanced over at each other with alarmed expressions on our faces. We tried to relax as the plane started to taxi down the runway, but just as it was reaching maximum speed, the pilot suddenly took a sharp right and brought the plane to a stop.
We seem to be having some mechanical issue that has prevented us from taking off. We’re going to wait here for the crew to come out and check the plane. It might just be a quick fix, or we may have to head back to the terminal…In the meantime, I’m going to have to cut off the AC, so it’s probably going to get pretty hot in the plane. Sorry about that…
“I think we should get off right now,” my friend said anxiously. Given the circumstances, it was a perfectly reasonable suggestion.
“The door’s locked. What can we do?” I answered.
We kept looking out for the crew to arrive. As far as we could tell, they never showed up. Instead, the pilot kept gunning the engine.
And then suddenly: “We’re off!“ he announced without any further explanation. The plane took off and we endured a short, but harrowing flight to C’ville. The tiny little plane kept getting buffeted by the winds. At one point, it juddered so hard, it felt like it might burst apart at the seams. I had my eyes clenched shut the whole time and was saying one long fervent prayer, which only ended with an abrupt “JESUS!” when the plane landed hard at Charlottesville Airport. It turned out my friend had been praying the entire time too…I guess the prayers worked. We got back home alive! Denver was great, but:
Soccer Season Wrap-Up
My son’s early soccer days…
And at last weekend’s “Sunburn Tournament”…
Sunburn Tournament champs!
My daughter’s very first day of soccer
Guest playing for tournaments for the last two weeks in a row, in Richmond:
And at the Sunburn Tournament for her age bracket:
I didn’t get any medals myself, but I think we can all agree that I am the true winner of the Sunburn Tournament:

OUCH!
Two things happened today…
This morning we (finally) signed the papers to buy our house!
We hope to host family and friends here for many years to come.
(PLEASE! Let’s not move for AT LEAST another twenty years, my husband begged).

Our house has been referred to as The Old Rectory in real estate documents we’ve seen, because it was originally built in 1920 for the minister of the Presbyterian church around the corner from us.
One day my kids discovered another name on an old sign hidden behind some foliage:
This fall we discovered why it’s called Leaf Land:

Leaf Land it is!
The other momentous occasion that happened today was my son’s graduation from middle school. I thought for sure we were going to miss it, but our attorney was able to meet with us earlier than expected. We raced over to the school straight from his office, expecting only to see our son waiting for us in front of the school. Miraculously, we arrived just moments before they started calling out the names of all the graduates!
I can still hear the wistful tone in my dad’s voice as he held my oldest son in his arms for the first time. You’re not going to believe it now, he said, but in the blink of an eye he’ll be grown and out of the house and you won’t even know how it happened.
Every single day I feel like it’s all going much, much too fast.
I swear to you this happened a few months ago:

Preschool
And this? This was yesterday:

First day of elementary school


Slow it down a little, please!
This girl…
Preschool Graduation
First Day of Elementary School




Elementary School Graduation
We’d been preparing for my daughter’s graduation for months. As I drove her to school, we would discuss the particulars: what she should wear, the fact that she should – for this very special occasion – actually comb her hair, etc. Most importantly, I apologized to her in advance for the fact that there would be ugly crying. I explained to her that it simply couldn’t be helped. She would have to avert her gaze and pretend that her mother was not disgracing herself in the audience with racking sobs and snot streaming out of her bright red nose.
Nothing went as planned. The dress I thought she would wear was too small for her. I pulled a dress out of my own closet and it fit her perfectly. She put on a pair of my ballet flats and they fit perfectly too. When we stood back to back, I realized she had snuck past me. My ten year old daughter is now about an inch taller than me.



It was only a week before her graduation when I realized I would not be able to be there. I broke the news to her in the car as I drove her to school one morning.
I’m so sorry, I’ve got some really sad news. I just realized that I’m going to have to miss your graduation because of my conference in Denver, and I’m absolutely devastated!
I never realized until that very moment that it’s actually possible to hear and feel someone grinning from the back seat.
My husband texted me photos of the graduation as it was happening. I stood transfixed in the middle of a busy Expo Hall as the photos came through one by one. People rushed around me, politely averting their gaze, as I stood there staring at my phone with big fat tears streaming down my face.

Mamas and babies
It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, during which time I: helped chaperone a trip to Virginia Beach for my daughter’s 5th grade class, ferried her to two soccer tournaments, ferried my son to his soccer tournament, got him packed up for a two-week program at NYU, sold our old house, went to a work conference in Denver, cried in the middle of the Expo Hall as my husband texted me photos of my daughter’s elementary school graduation in real time, helped pick out the winning (two) covers for my sister’s upcoming novel, and almost died returning back to Charlottesville.
To get back in the swing of things, here are a few photos from the trip to Virginia Beach, the annual field trip for the fifth graders right before they graduate…kind of a baby version of Beach Week for graduating high schoolers and college students.

Learning about whelks at the Virginia Living Museum in Newport News
See that long, wavy thing that vaguely looks like a pasta noodle? I learned that each segment at one time contained a baby whelk in the making!


There she goes! Leaping into new adventures…
Everyone had breakfast at the Golden Corral, where I witnessed another freaky sight:

Deep fried bacon!
Next stop: the Virginia Aquarium:

Hello!
The octopus was working on opening a prescription pill container:


This is what happened when I asked the girls to pose for a photo…
The highlight of the day was the Dolphin Discovery boat ride:
Mama dolphins and their days old babies came up to our boat to check US out and say hello!

Dear Tina
One of my closest friends is moving far away in just a few weeks. This is a bitter pill to swallow. Tina was one of my first friends in Charlottesville. Our children have grown up together. We‘ve grown up together. I had always assumed that eventually – we would grow old together.
One of the many things we did together over the years was to build a network of friends through a book group made up of kind, generous, brilliant, creative, and hilarious women. One of them rightly stated that it’s been Tina, who has been the glue that has bound us all together. She has hosted our get togethers every month for years and has plied us with dishes so decadent as to banish the thought of any foolish resolution made in a moment of self-delusion. On a diet? Forget about it! Gluten free? How adorable! No sugar diet? Pssssht! Lactose intolerant? Too bad! You might have to pay for it later, but in the moment? Oh, but in the moment you could not help but indulge in the sinful concoctions she would whip up for us. We would come dressed in our pjs, adjust the recliners just so, and settle in for a night of food, conversation and so much laughter. Tina would buzz about refilling glasses, cutting outrageously large slices of cake to put on our plates, draping comfy throws over our legs…
On Sunday it was our turn to host Tina. Our book group got together to take her out for dinner and to send her off in style. It was graduation weekend here in Charlottesville, which made it impossible to book a table for nine locally. We decided to take our party over the mountain to go to the award-winning farm to table restaurant Zynodoa in Staunton. I told Tina I would pick her up in my Chariot of Fire, aka my 14 year old beater minivan with 250,000 miles on it, but as a special surprise – one of our friends booked a limo.

PTO President by day, Party Queen by night!
We rolled up to Tina’s house and I was dispatched to knock on her door. That’s when things got interesting. The evening started off with a no-holds barred wrestling match. There was blood! There was mud! And it was all captured on film! The next part of this post is in the form of a letter addressed to the woman who took me down like a cheap folding chair…

Dear Tina,
We’ve been through so much together over the many years that we’ve been friends…

“You don’t mind riding in my rattletrap minivan, do you? I did vacuum it just for you…”
We’ve had lots of adventures…

(I love that there’s some kind of tractor parked right next to the limo)!

“Surprise!”
We’ve had our ups…
And our downs…


But through it all, we’ve always been there for each other. We’ve dropped everything to help each other get back onto our feet when life (or say, a dear friend) has knocked us down on our asses…
We’ve laughed until we’ve cried. (And sometimes we’ve cried until we’ve laughed).


We’ve shared amazingly wonderful times with amazingly wonderful friends…






“Wait, why is my head three times bigger than yours? Are we even the same species?”

“You need to go waaaaay in front so that our head sizes can be even.”
Wherever you go…however far away you may be…
We will always adore wonderful, o wonderful you!

Weekend Snapshots 37
This was the weekend I became my mother.
Friday
I made the classic rookie mistake. I didn’t check for toilet paper before choosing a bathroom stall and doing my business. Where there should have been two industrial-sized rolls of toilet paper – there was jack squat. I sat there for a few long moments contemplating the unsavory options before me. I was saved when I suddenly remembered the extra, unused napkins I had stashed in my capacious bag when I took the kids out for lunch last weekend. They had snickered when they saw me doing it, just as I used to snicker whenever my mom would put extra napkins, ketchup packets, etc. into her bag.
“Just like Grandma,” they said shaking their heads.
Later that day I was driving my daughter home from a playdate when I spotted some adorable daisies – weeds, really – growing along the side of the road. Daisies always remind me of my mother. They are one of her favorite flowers. She carried them in her wedding bouquet and they had a special place in her flower garden.
I stopped the car and yanked a bunch out to plant in my own garden:
My daughter was shrieking with laughter when I got back into the minivan clutching my daisies with clods of dirt falling from their roots: “You’re becoming just like Grandma!”
The first time my mother visited us when we moved to Charlottesville, we took her for a tour of the campus, (“Grounds”). We stopped to admire a hedge of wild roses that had been planted by the building where my husband’s office was located. My mother methodically picked rose hips off the bushes.

I looked uneasily about to see if anyone was witnessing the plundering of the rosebushes.
“Here!” she said, handing them to me, “Try planting these in your garden. If any come up, give me some!”
Later we walked along the Downtown Mall. At each of the large black planters placed at intervals along the pedestrian walkway she would stop to admire the lush flowers. Whenever she spotted flowers that had gone to seed, she would casually pull them off.
I shrank with embarrassment, but she handed them to me saying, “These will look beautiful in your garden!”
It’s been raining for weeks now. Every morning as I drive to work I think about all the things I’m going to do in my garden the minute I get home. Some days I don’t even bother changing out of my work clothes. I just throw on a pair of garden gloves and rush outside to the garden. I’ve found myself outside in the rain almost every day, sometimes in the pitch black, sometimes dodging lightning bolts…I remember watching my mother do this when I was a child.
“MOM! You’re getting soaked! Come in!” I’d say.
“It’s the best time to plant,” she’d reply, waving me away with her gloved hand.
Saturday
All the kids’ soccer games were rained out, so we spent the day running errands. We had left a bunch of paint cans for the people who are buying our house, thinking they might like to have them for future touch ups. After the home inspection they asked us to remove them, so I dropped by our old house with my daughter and her friend to gather them up. My heart sank when I heard a crash.
“Uh-oh!” I heard my daughter say, “Mommy?”
I ran upstairs to discover that she had dropped one of the paint cans on the kitchen floor. The paint was oozing all over the tile. After a major freak out, I remembered there was a roll of paper towels in the garage. My elation turned to despair when I realized there were only two sheets left on the roll.
“Now what am I going to do?!” I groaned out loud.
My daughter piped up, “Don’t worry, Mom! You have a million napkins in your bag!” And so I did!
Sunday
My son’s piano recital.
He was the final performer, so I had a couple hours of high anxiety until it was his turn at last. I’ve listened to him play his two pieces over and over for months. He had never gotten to the point where he was able to play through the pieces flawlessly every single time. I’m glad to report that he played them beautifully.
We went to Crozet Pizza, a Charlottesville landmark, to celebrate:
When we got home at last, my sweet daughter put her arm around me and said, “You should go have a nap now, Mommy, so you can be rested up for your fun night with your friends in Staunton.” (More on that later).
“Now who’s being just like Grandma?” I thought as I gave her a big hug.