Category: Fun Pile

Last week we stopped in to our local UW Bookstore and signed up for their Summer Reading Rocks! program.

Most reading programs ask kids to record the amount of time they spend reading, then after 500 minutes (or whatever) they get a prize.

My crew acts like that’s such a chore, and it makes me feel like a nag!

I like the Summer Reading Rocks! program because they count how many books the kids read, and right off the bat my kids we’re ALL OVER that challenge.

We go back for prizes after every five books they read, plus we got a coupon for 20% off any children’s book.

And the best part is they get these awesome lanyards to keep their reading logs in! Now maybe they’ll stop stealing mine.

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.

No, this is not a birthday party. Nor do I run a daycare (which a police officer once asked me when he saw three kids of varying shades of skin playing in the yard with my blondies). This is just the sort of thing I do to myself on a regular basis: a pool party with six kids under the age of five. Or wait – is that one six already? I think so. Six under the age of SIX, then. But still.

Ever since I was a kid I wanted a big family. Maybe as a practically-only child I fantasized about large families, but even as an adult married woman, I still thought I would birth a baseball team of boys. Then I actually HAD kids, and then I had postpartum depression, and now I nearly have the youngest out of diapers.

I can’t imagine doing that all over again.

Yet, I find myself with a house full of kids – or at least one extra – at least twice a week, sometimes more often. I’ve always imagined being the house on my block where all my kids’ friends come to play, my refrigerator and pantry filled with snacks to share, plenty of games on the Wii and other interesting things to make it so my kids and their friends like to be here.

Maybe six kids under six for dinner and a pool party on a record-breaking hot day is practice for ten teenagers who choose to come here after school rather than the mall? I admit I’m a romantic. My friends with teenagers can tell me how it really is, but I guess I’m learning I like a little bit of high level chaos as long as they all go home at some point and let me recuperate before the next wave of chaos.

But I get to keep these two forever. Which is nice, because they’re both just a little bit crazy like me.

We come to Lake Wilderness often for our hiking adventures, but I liked the late spring morning sun as it filtered through the trees on this day. I love the tall pines here, and the lush forest floor with its cozy trails to hug you as you approach unseen bends. When I was a kid walking through the “deep deep woods” on my grandpa’s 40 acres of land in Northern Minnesota, this is what it was like, and I think that’s mostly why I love bringing my kids here so much.

The park is not that big, and all the trails intertwine. It’s pretty impossible to get lost here so I let my kids lead the way, choosing which path to take at each intersection. Also? It’s dog friendly, so we get to bring Scout! We’ve never actually crossed paths with other people on these trails, which I don’t totally understand, but that just means I let Scout go off leash. She’s such a good dog, still always walking by my side or just in front of me.

At one point during this hike Ruthie gasped and grabbed my leg. “WHAT’S THAT SOUND?!” she asked, worried. I stopped to listen, and the only thing I heard was wind in the pines high above our heads. Have you ever heard such a sound? It’s more muffled than the sound of wind blowing through leaves – it’s not as crisp, so I could understand why Ruthie wouldn’t recognize it.

I never knew a tree could make a person cry, but I teared up a little at that sound, remembering my childhood in the pine grove next to our cabin in Northern Minnesota. I would sweep all the dried pine needles on the forest floor into a cushy pile and lay on my back, looking up at the sky through the trees and dozing off to the sound of the wind in the pines.

And as it just so happens, you can find anything on The Internet. So here, for your listening pleasure, is Wind in the Pines: