It snowed last week. I lived in Minnesota for 18 years – a place where your nostrils stick together if you breathe too deeply, and your eyeballs freeze if you’re outside too long – so I’m not one of the crazies who gets all excited about the snow.

But about once or twice a year it taunts me.

The depth of my selfishness revealed itself during the snow week. I couldn’t even muster enough excitement for the sake of the children.

“Come play in the snow, mom!”

“No.”

Fortunately, we have a neighborhood full of play mates, so my presence was not requested often. But still. Would it have killed me?

(I think it might have.)

But I more than made up for it as the Queen of Hot Cocoa and Indoor Entertainment. Name your game consol, we’ve got it.

My big win for the week was that I didn’t lose my mind. I was in the middle of writing a script with a deadline on Friday, and it was not at all convenient to have the kids home from school.

Historically when Things don’t go According to Plan, I end up going Momageddon on the kids. But thankfully I’m 40 now because that behavior is sooooooo 39.

Thomas wanted to say goodnight to the snowman he built in the park.

I love that Bryan balances out my Control Freakishness by having the kids design their own pumpkins. They had some awesome drawings that involved teeth and scars, and I kept hearing Bryan say, “I’ll see what I can do.”

He did great, of course.

Carving six pumpkins made for a bit of a crazy Saturday night, but so fun.

I just noticed I matched the wrong pumpkins to the wrong drawings in a couple pictures below, but you get the idea.

We went to Disneyland with my brother-in-law’s family our 2nd weekend in California, and I can’t imagine a more perfect experience.

First of all, after a week of temps over 100 degrees, it dropped down to the low 70′s that day. I’m so glad, because you did not want to read that blog post about my sweaty thighs.

The timing was also great since we were there after Halloween but before the Christmas season, so there was hardly any other people. No lines! Splash Mountain was so empty they let us ride it again without even getting out of the boat!

This was also a great age to enjoy Disneyland with the kids. They’re at the tail end of 5 and 7 – old enough to endure the day, and young enough to still believe it’s magical.

We had to leave the house at 6:30 to hit the park by 8am, and we stayed until 7pm. My feet were killing me after eleven hours, but for the first time since high school I rode roller coasters! WIN!

I think the best outcome of the day, though, was turning Ruthie into a fellow roller coaster junkie. She loved them! We rode The Matterhorn first thing at 8:15 and she was hooked! We went on everything together except Space Mountain.

It was such a blast to have a “big kid” with us this time!

(check out her adorable face in the picture below).

I noticed something about myself while at Disneyland: I was having fun.

I know, right? Who wouldn’t have fun at Disneyland? But I clearly remember our trip three years ago, and I was anxious, self centered, and struggling to enjoy myself.

And here I was – three years later – completely enjoying myself, without agenda, and ready to go with the flow.

“You know what?” I said to Bryan after we got off Thunder Mountain, “It really helps to not be depressed at Disneyland.”

Indeed.

In Seattle you don’t die of heat stroke at the pumpkin patch.

I mean, yes, it was 54 degrees and raining in Seattle yesterday so of course I love the sun and heat, but I was not mentally prepared for pumpkins.

No, due to the gorgeous weather I was mentally prepared for a beach chair and a margarita, which I did not find in the middle of the pumpkin patch but could have used after the wheelbarrow incident.

The unbearable heat also changed my strategy in the corn maze because I only wanted to stay on the shady paths.

However, Bryan strongly suggested that this strategy would not get us out of the corn maze in a timely manner, nor would it help us find posts marked 1, 2, 3 & 4 in the corn maze scavenger hunt, which would earn us the coveted prize of sparkly black and gold bead necklaces.

I’m just thankful I made it out alive, which is more than I can say for the pumpkins I saw in the patch.

This was me waiting for fireworks on the 4th of July, though it looks more like I’m waiting at the finish line for the Iditarod.

As it goes in Seattle, it rained and it was cold. We tried to convince the kids we’d be better off snuggling under a blanket watching Where the Wild Things Are, but no – WE WANT FIREWORKS TAKE US TO THE FIREWORKS.

Given that 90% of my parenting style is born from a keen sense of laziness, it was difficult to muster up the motivation to take my kids out in this weather. But apparently THIS was the day I was to turn a new leaf, to lose myself in the adventure, and to do something “enjoyable” for my kids that required effort.

So off we went.

We waited until 9:15 to head down to a Lake Washington pier near our house. Bryan had already parked the car down there for the drive back, so we walked the mile and a half or so, schlepping chairs and blankets. It was cold, but the weather seemed to be holding, and I thought maybe we’d be spared the rain.

Around 9:30 it started to rain.

It rained hard.

It rained and the wind blew.

The wind was cold.

My feet and legs were drenched and freezing inside five minutes.

At 9:35 Ruthie began to whine that she was cold and wet and wanted to go home to watch the movie.

We’re here because of you! I wanted to scream. But I didn’t. Well, I may have mentioned it. At any rate, Thomas threw a fit at the idea of going home, so Ruthie and Bryan waited in the car while Thomas and I braved the elements.

The only part of this adventure more harrowing than the rain and cold, was Thomas asking every 30 seconds when the fireworks were going to start – I wasn’t sure he was going to come out of the evening alive.

As I listened to the internet whine all month about the crappy whether in June, I tried to remind everyone that this is what Seattle DOES. And sure enough, the forecast beginning July 5th is amazing with sun.

Me: “So was that the best movie of the year or WHAT?”

Him: “Meh.”

Me: “Wha-? You didn’t like it?!”

Him: “It was a little mellow dramatic at times.”

Me: “You’re such an asshole.”

Him: “I take it you liked it, then?”

Thanksgiving weekend we took a day trip into the mountains with some friends to chop down a Christmas tree. Mind you, this was no froo froo tree farm with hot cocoa and carolers… this was THE MOUNTAINS.

(As we’ve discovered before, when the Zugs do something we go all the way).

We bought a $10 permit from the forest service and wound our way up one of their treacherous, winding roads in our ’95 Honda Odyssey with two wheel drive and questionable tire traction, following along behind our two friends in their identical Subaru 4 wheel drives.

I’m not going to lie to you – IZE TERRIFIED of that drive. Somewhere between now and my daring twenties I lost my chops and everything makes me nervous. Maybe the closer you get to 40 the more aware you are of your mortality, but let me just admit that I was NOT TRUSTING JESUS as we fishtailed around those hairpin turns with only a snow bank to keep us from employing the local search party operation.

But alas. we soon met a stalled car on the road in front of us and couldn’t gain our traction again in the snow. We had to abandon ship and hop into one of the Subarus.

The kids and I waited in the back of our friend’s car a few dozen yards up the road while the men heaved and pushed our minivan to the side of the road. I felt much better there, not able to witness whether or not Bryan would end up at the bottom of a ravine.

I prefer my tragedies to surprise me.

It was exhilarating to play in the snow. At one point Ruthie and I had to tromp off to find a bush *cough* and stepped into a snow drift up to my waist.

Wow. I mean, I’m the kid who used to JUMP off my roof into a pile of snow. Now I’m the middle aged mom who FALLS into a drift while trying to not pee her pants.

Chopping down a tree from the side of the mountain challenges one’s perspective. I kept pointing out THAT ONE! WHAT ABOUT THAT ONE? IS THAT ONE GOOD? Because I was all, “Whassamattah? We have nine foot ceilings!”

But, yeah. Check out our itty bitty TEN FOOT TREE next to its ginormous counterpart:

Our friends think they may have scared us away, but we’re totally going again next year. We had a great time, and this was the healthiest, cutest tree we’ve ever had.

Thomas, today you are four years old. I can hardly believe we’re here already! You inspire me every day with your generosity. When you experience something amazing – a taste, a view, an object – your first reaction is to want to share it with someone.

“THIS IS SO GOOD, MOM, YOU HAVE TO TASTE IT!”

“WOOK AT THIS DWESS, MOM, WET’S GET IT FO’ WOOFIE!”

You are slow to warm up to new situations – it took you three three months to say hello to Daniel at the bus stop, and four months to stop clinging to me at preschool drop off. You sit back and assess a situation or person, determining who will be one of your trusted peeps. But when you make a determination, it seems to be a set relationship.

This year you also claimed a “best friend.” You ask to see him on a daily basis, and tell me you wish he was part of our “famiwy.” Your sleepovers and park dates are filled with Light Sabor wars, kung foo fighting, and SuperHero rescues. Knowing your intimate, faithful, and dedicated personality, I imagine this friendship lasting many years despite attending different schools in the future.

Like most sibling relationships, you and Ruthie are love/hate, but mostly love. You adore her, and you protect her. That time we went to Santa Cruz beach and Ruthie ran in and out of the surf? You were so worried for her safety that you screamed at me and pushed me toward the water to stop her.

You follow her everywhere and do what she does. This sometimes gets you into trouble because you don’t evaluate whether your choices are foolish or wise, only whether Woofie did it. My prayer is that your conscience will override the strong draw of your sister’s leadership, and you will one day speak into her life regarding some of the choices she makes.

I think your challenge will be to believe in yourself and to trust your instinct. You are thoughtful in your determination, and quiet in your execution, but your ego bruises easily and you worry what people will think. I’m confident Jesus will lead you through all this, and I think you’re already working out what that looks like. When I make a decision that puts you in tears, your question to me often is, “Does Jesus agree with you?” And when I say, Yes, Jesus gives me wisdom to be a good parent, you are satisfied.

I love you, and I love being your mom. I’m continually aware that I walk a fine line between leading you and raising you to be a leader. I want to support you and nurture you in a way that bolsters you up as a man, but still cuddles and snuggles you like a boy.

And your dad? You are WAY INTO your dad. Every morning when you wake up you ask, “Where’s dad?” Every night when he comes home you skooch your chair around the dinner table to be right next to him. And on the weekends you LOVE to run errands and do GUY STUFF with your dad. Sometimes you even climb into his lap with your blankie and your thumb and chuckle just a little bit – you are so content in that space it brings an uncontrollable giggle up through you. I LOVE that – the happiness and contentment that expresses itself in a bubbling over of laughter.

In closing, know that I want to encourage your natural curiosity. You are filled with striking questions and keen observations. Here are a few of the things you’ve said to me over the last year:

Why does the sky change colors?

How did Scout get up to heaven when there’s nothing for him to stand on?

How do things melt?

Why does Jesus live in the sky?

Hey I know! We can send the [broken] spoon up to heaven for Jesus to fix, and then he can shoot it back down to us!

I wish I was Jesus or a Super Hero so I could save people.

Daddy I need to change my pants so I have somewhere to put my gun. (he needed a pocket).

Daddy, can we break our car so we have to buy a new one over there and I can play in the Spiderman house? (re the Spiderman jump house in the used car lot)

I wish there was a machine that could make it so the WHOLE WORLD could watch Clone Wars!

I said, “Let’s go hiking tomorrow.”

He said with wild eyes, “I know, LET’S GO GEOCHACHING!”

I rolled my eyes to the heavens and sat back in my chair.

Deflated, offended, he was all, “What?”

“Why can’t we just be like normal people and go hiking?” I said bitterly.

“It IS hiking – but with a goal, a purpose. It’s like a treasure hunt!”

“So enjoying the great outdoors with your children isn’t purpose enough?”

I know. I can be such a bitch sometimes.

The stupid thing is, I knew it would be fun. Everything Bryan wants to do is fun.

—

Looking for the hidden treasure…

More looking…

Finding the treasure!

Checking out what’s inside…

Recording that we found it…

Putting it back for the next treasure hunter…

All in all, not too shabby for our first time out on this high tech adventure. And? The kids made it hiking half a mile straight up the side of Cougar Mountain.

—

Go here for information on geocaching, because there’s probably a site within 300 yards of where you’re reading this (there’s tons in our own neighborhood).

Go here for the full flickr set.

It is June 5th, and I’m wearing jeans, socks, a sweater, and I turned my heat on for a couple hours today just to take the edge off. Yesterday the kids asked for hot chocolate, my seeds are not sprouting in the garden, and I’m sick of being cold.

So you know what? I’m giving Seattle the finger. Buh-bye.

Bryan and I are headed down to somewhere outside of Sacramento for a family reunion done Zug style, which is to say I’ll be hurling my body down a treacherous, rock infested river through rapids they lovingly call Satan’s Cesspool, with only a blow-up raft between myself and certain death. I’m not sure what frightens me more – the potential for hitting my head on a rock, or the fact I won’t be taking my laptop.

I wasn’t originally planning to raft. I was going to sit quietly next to the river with my book and my sunscreen, waiting to collect on the life insurance. But after several people convinced me I might actually have fun and not die, and when I remembered the whole point of going was to spend time with Bryan’s family, I thought I would suck it up and get on board.

Besides, how can I fear certain death if this is what my last day will look like?

That, my friends, is a far cry from what Seattle will look like this weekend. So have yourself a merry little weekend wherever you are. A special edition of Sex and the City Link Love will post in the morning, because I know how much you’ll miss me when I’m gone.