San Francisco Treat

Leaving San Francisco is like saying goodbye to an old sweetheart. 

You want to linger as long as possible. —Walter Cronkite

Mark and Leah were thrilled to be invited to San Francisco to assist in a properly indulgent celebration of David and Judy’s anniversary.  Wandering this distinctive city in many ways felt like visiting an old sweetheart— the hilly streets, rattle of the cable cars, bustle in Union Square and bridge lined vistas, all brought back fond memories and reminded us of forgotten corners of our hearts. 

For Leah, the sight of the Golden Gate Bridge reminded her of being a little girl with Laura Ingalls braids, traveling into the city for a Giants game, trip to Pier 39 or a walk through China Town.  For Mark, it was a chance to reflect and honor the graduation ceremony he was never able to attend for his Doctorate of Ministry from San Francisco Theological Seminary (thanks for being Super Dad while you had a radioactive wife). For both of us, the city brought back our carefree adventures pre-kids and our first getaway post-Ben that resulted in bringing home a little sister as a souvenir. It was wonderful to linger over all these memories and make some new ones too—the only souvenir we brought home this time was a shot glass!  

David and Judy have been our dearest friends for over a decade, we have taken multiple trips with them, stayed at their house for weeks on end and had them visit us more times than we can count— in other words, they are family. We always feel at home together and are never at a loss for words (except maybe when we all have our heads down checking iphones, laptops, etc.). It was a perfect mix of relaxation, activity, laughter, delicious food, wine, chocolate and good conversation.  We flew home refreshed, renewed and ready to see our babies. 

Ben and Clara stayed with Lynda, our true Southern lady sweetheart (tough and tender in equal measure). Lynda helped out in the months after Leah’s surgeries and such, becoming part of the family.  The kids loved their time at Nana Nemo’s, the name toddler Ben gave her long ago after she cuddled up and watched Finding Nemo with him one rainy day. They came home with chubby cheeks (“Nemo gives us lots of treats”), impeccable manners and a little more drawl in those squeaky voices. 

Our favorite kid report came from CMO, the kids' preschool. In chapel they were discussing the Ten Commandments and got to the part of do not kill; saying that is an easy one, we aren’t supposed to kill anyone. Clara stood up and said very seriously, “Except, you can kill Storm Troopers.” Leah thought this signaled Star Wars overload, while Mark on the other hand, proudly exclaimed, “It’s a just war theory!” 

Thank you David and Judy, for being a model of marriage, for your generosity and faithful friendship and for sending us home with a stash of Peet’s coffee. Thank you San Francisco, for allowing us to linger in your special magic, one more time.  

Twinkle, Twinkle

Three years ago, January 21st became an important date for our family.  It marks Leah’s first thyroid surgery, when Clara was just twenty-four weeks along in her momma’s belly.  The surgery ended up taking over three hours with our strong little peanut (nicknamed Prescott and sex unknown) rebounding like a champ after being under anesthesia too.  Within an hour of exiting the OR, that peanut was wildly kicking and twirling around bringing her momma much comfort. Unfortunately, that day was just the beginning of a very difficult season and through it all Clara remained our strong, feisty, so, so sweet gift of radiant light in the darkest of times. 

We decided to turn this day of painful memories into a day of commemoration. Every year we will celebrate “Clara’s Special Day.”  As we shared last year, “It is a chance to remind our baby girl that she is strong, she is blessed, that she is loved.  There are going to be many times she will need to remember to fight, to kick, squirm, to not let heartbreak or failure stop her heart from beating, stop her from living life to the fullest.  We can’t protect her from the hurt of the world, but we can circle around her and dance, proclaim with joy how happy we are that she is here, that she is strong, that she is ours.“

Clara chose the menu for dinner: hamburgers, sweet potato fries and apple pie (can we say Little Miss All-American?).  Leah conquered her fear of piecrust and made that baby girl one “H-E-double hockey sticks” of an apple pie.  Our annual dance party in the den once again brought Leah and Mark to tears— the joy, love, laughter and booty shaking filled us with bittersweet, humble gratitude.  Clara was lit from within, our spunky, sweet miracle girl.  When she blew out her candle we told her to make a good wish.  Her denim blue eyes looked up with delight and she exclaimed, “I made a wish for you, Mommy!”

Since the first night they were born, Ben’s song has been “You Are My Sunshine” and Clara’s “Twinkle, Twinkle.”   This week, Leah sang this tenderly to Clara, at the end kissing her forehead and telling her, “You’re my star.”  Clara cried out in protest, “I’m not a star!  I’m who God made me—I’m Clara Elizabeth Grace!”

With a tearful twist in the heart, Leah thought, that's it exactly—our shining star.

Happy Feet

You may have noticed, we love to celebrate around here, welcoming any and all opportunities to elevate the ordinary days into memory making days. Sometimes these "found" holidays are more fun than the birthdays, anniversaries and such— because with fewer expectations, a sense of spontaneity and the chance to be creative you find the joy of just having fun.  

Yesterday, we celebrated National Penguin Day. Ever since Ben has been able to communicate (when it was just pointing, smiles and giggles) the boy has loved penguins. So when Google powers accidentally lead you to this information, you take it as a sign and get the party started.

The kids’ preschool joined in the fun and planned a day of penguin activities. Ben and Clara wrote a lovely, droning, repetitive song whose lyrics in their entirety are, “Penguins, I love so much” (repeat at least forty times through, with an un-tuned ukulele strumming to get the full effect). Ben planned the dinner menu, making sure it included fish, because that is what they feed the penguins at the zoo. The addictive Penguin Ball game was invented and the kids hunted for hidden penguins around the house. 

Penguin cupcakes were made, lots of cupcakes. A few text messages to friends to swing by to pick-up a batch for their own Penguin Day festivities— an as quick as a waddle, waddle, an impromptu party turned an ordinary black and white day in January into a pretty cool day filled with the bright colors of laughter, friendship and indulgent penguin fun.

Snow Loco

Monday we were hit with another snowstorm.  We felt snug and satisfied in our little house watching the snowflakes fall.  We made pancakes, we bundled up, we threw snowballs, we ran laps in the snow track made by the sled in the front yard and we drank hot cocoa…all the good stuff of snow days.  Then night came and brought with it freezing rain that covered everything in a thick layer of ice, basically shutting down everything for the rest of the week— no mornings at preschool, no going out and about, no evening church activities, no drive to the club for workouts, no playing outside and well, the crazy kicked in.

We had just spent weeks together over Christmas and had plenty of cozy, cuddle family time.  All of us were ready to start the year, getting back into a routine and getting out of the house.  Thankfully (depending on who you talk to), Mark could get back and forth the mile to church after Monday.  Not so thankfully, by Wednesday afternoon, Leah hit her frazzled mommy state and the kids were cranky, whiny and restless.  Normally independent Clara became Leah’s little koala bear, wrapping herself around Leah’s leg and her constant shadow— as in, standing outside the shower just to make sure Leah was right there washing her hair and asking again and again, “Are you almost finished, Mommy?” 

It made us homesick, not just California sunshine (icy, cold and gray do not a merry morning make) but for family close-by to call, to whine and whimper that you need a little break and they biologically have to say yes to spending time with your lovely, cranky kids.

Our church started an emergency homeless shelter for nights when the temperature drops below 25 degrees.  Mark worked the “owl shift” Monday night, sleeping at the church in the fellowship hall dubbed A Room in the Inn.  He walked in our door that frigid icy Tuesday morning dropped his backpack and pillow and gently said, “I am so thankful for this warm house, for warm beds for all of us and that we have a home.”  As our nerves grew frayed and our words snippy, this was the truth we gripped— when a storm hits, what an abundant blessing to have shelter, to have food, to have a family and red, red wine.

Our Man Mark

We found out that our smoke detector needs new batteries. No, not from all of Mark's birthday candles (we didn't even try to jam that many candles on to the stand of cupcakes). Leah decided to try out her strong Southern woman cast iron pan to cook steaks for the birthday boy and proceeded to smoke out the kitchen, dining room and hallway...and no smoke detector beeps/sirens at all. Thankfully, the steaks turned out, the Butterfinger cupcakes were a success, the Pinot Noir flowed and the cast iron pan went back into the cupboard for awhile until Leah is brave enough to try again.

Mark is so easy to please. His birthday weekend included a family dinner (with those smokey steaks), breakfast in bed and a free pass for a lazy morning, Five Guys Burgers & Fries for lunch and a movie date with his girl (splurging on popcorn, Coke-no ice and sneaking in plenty of fun size candy bars). Add in a few rounds of "Happy Birthday" sung by two bright eyed cuties and Mark was a content forty-something (it is getting harder to keep the years straight!).  We love the chance to celebrate Mark, he is always so quick to give the praise and attention to those around him. It feels good to claim a few days just for him.

We love his patient, compassionate heart, his witty sense of humor, his steadfast, authentic faith, his passionate love for his family...how he gives so much of his time, energy and heart to his congregation, how he loves to play Hop on Pop and Star Wars, how cool he looks and sounds behind those drums, how he sneaks into the kitchen to steal a lick out of the baking bowl, how no matter how hard he tries he just can't pick out socks that match his outfit, how a country song about a daddy and daughter on the radio brings on the tears, how he ends every phone call and every walk out the door with "I love you," how he searches the pews to catch Leah's eyes and meets them with a sparkle and smile, how he will only remember to change the batteries in the smoke detector if it is written on a honey-do list, how he will remember every kiss, cuddle and conversation with the kids...how we just can't comprehend a world without Mark as our strong, stable, sweet center, always believing, always loving, always choosing us as his favorite place to be.

Clara summed it up well in the card she dictated to Leah (making sure that the envelope said Mark and not Daddy).


Daddy:
I love you.
I love you really much.
Happy Birthday!
XOXO-Clara

Bonne Année!

Back when Ben was still scooting around on his bottom, eating pureed peas and bald as Charlie Brown, Mark came up with a brilliant plan for celebrating New Year’s Eve as a family.  He found out that midnight in Paris is 6:00 pm EST and voilà—our French New Years tradition began.

To welcome 2011 we invited the Young family to join in the fun.  We played French music, sipped Champagne (or for some, gulping may be a tiny bit more accurate), gave the kids their first round (or two) of Shirley Temples  (Leah’s childhood favorite “grown-up” drink), dunked some goodies in chocolate fondue, got our sparkle on and welcomed the new year at 6:00 pm.  After the countdown and kisses, the kids went to bed pretty much on time and we had a few quiet hours of our own- brilliant and joyful.

Speaking of joyful, that is the theme we have claimed for two thousand and eleven.   On a too infrequent date night dinner last week, we had the chance to assess the past year and look to the new one ahead.  It was obvious to us that this is a charmed season, the kids are full of a fleeting innocence, wonder, energy, sweetness and they possess such trusting, captivated hearts, that we want to intentionally soak in all these lovely moments.  We have abundant joy surrounding us each day as a family, no matter what is thrown at us, taken from us, or wounds us from the outside world. 

On our trip to Paris many moons ago, we took an evening boat ride along the Seine our first night in that magical city.  The lights shining on all the gorgeous architecture, kissing as we traveled under each bridge, looking up at the navy (Parisian!) sky, we cuddled close, thrilled that our dream was coming true right before our eyes and felt giddy joy. 

As much as we love that rose colored city, for us, even Paris ain’t got nothin' on Benjamin Mark, Clara Elizabeth Grace and a little corner of small town North Carolina simply called home.

Here’s to a joy-filled new year.  Oui?