How Is It Already April??

It's hard to believe there was a time I updated this weekly. When the kids were little and required diaper changes and regular feedings, no less. 

Well, it's been a winter, and maybe this is the season we're in. Life is a whirlwind. It snowed at some point, although for the life of me I cannot remember when, and we reveled in snow day sledding and a play-hooky ski day at Liberty. For once, nobody (Finley) wound up in the emergency room.

My announced-at-the-eleventh-hour promotion resulted in the absolute best surprise of the year, and our best people flew in for crabs with cousins (the kids) and more champagne than it was responsible to drink (yours truly). 

DOJ threw me an affair so extravagant we have labeled it "the coronation." Jayne and Finley made a cake for the ages, and I made- for some reason- this face.

The Attorney General made an appearance, and the DAG did the honors. Mom and Dad, predictably, hid from the camera. The promotion was lovely and I was brought to my knees with gratitude for the family tradition of service, and the people who traveled from far and wide to celebrate with us.

The event- lovely but lengthy- was survived, and we were lucky enough to spend a fantastic few more days exploring DC and Annapolis with our crew... and introducing Lehua to Starbucks calorie bombs.

The post-promotion doldrums were real, and the only thing that would perk us up was a snowy run north for Army-Navy basketball and a catchup with our East Continental Road people.

At some point, and it's honestly all a blur, we made it to the end of basketball season.

And then, because Rebecca and Jeremy are sociopaths and I'm a sucker for a vacation I don't have to plan, we found ourselves back at Disney. In the rain, no less.

We once again celebrated Seth's birthday in Florida with the (entire) North Dakota crew.

And checked out the old faves (Star Wars never disappoints) and new thrills (Tron was awesome- just look at that ad-worthy photo!)

Somewhere in there, Finley donated the hair she's been growing out for a wig for a kid with cancer. Imagine getting a foot of that ginger mop! She figured her Aunt Savanna would be proud.

I spent another week in Bulgaria which, despite the worst bout of food poisoning I've ever experienced, remains one of my very favorite places,

and then we made a trip south for Wendy's promotion, which landed us at the Virginia Aquarium and finding oysters in Yorktown (a real historical gem I had completely forgotten about.)

Spring sports are now upon us, and we started out the season at lacrosse games in abject weather.

The kids are big enough to vote on Spring Break plans and, although I lobbied hard for Italy, insisted on California, complete with convertible for the road trip. So naturally, within 24 hours of landing I was putting snow chains on a mini Cooper.

Worth it, for Kings Canyon and Sequoia in the snow and, later, a terrifically uncrowded and sparkling San Francisco. You hear a lot of bad news stories about California these days, which was partly behind my reluctance to take the kids, and I was delighted to find that they were- a la Mark Twain- greatly exaggerated.

The road trip was chicken soup for the soul, and a reminder just how much I love the place in which I have so many happy memories. (Thanks, Mom & Dad!) We ate all the ice cream,

visited all of our best beaches (Asilomar for Mom),

checked in with elephant seals at Ano Nuevo and the rest of the sea life at the still-best ever Monterey Bay Aquarium,

and acted like real tourists chasing down the best views of the Hollywood sign. 

Because central California is still at its quirky best, we also fed ostriches (?) and rode this weird bike "with a fringe on top" past windmills in Solvang (and by "we," I mean I am the only one who pedaled),

and learned to surf in the 54 degree Pacific in Pismo. There are no words for how happy this made my heart. The kids, in full wets, did not want to get out, and mastered pop-ups.

Somewhere in there, and I'll spare the photo although I'm pretty sure it's in this full deck, I also took a stroll along the PCH in my underwear, and (unrelated) snagged this fantastic photo.

I can 100% endorse renting a convertible and driving the PCH. Even if your kid gets carsick and pukes in it. 

We wrapped our trip paying homage to every. tourist. trap. in LA.

Plus farmer's market tacos with Sky!!

and a v. expensive pilrgimage to my alma mater.

The icing on the cake was Dodger dogs and a win at Dodger stadium (for me), and Dodgers Prime (for Handsome Ford)

followed by a trip to the always-stunning Getty Center for Artsy Finley.

It's hard to leave California, and once there, I invariably consider not doing so. But we made it home in time for opening day for both the Bowie Baysox and the Arden Attackers.

We saw the eclipse, even if some of us lasted approximately 30 seconds before our necks hurt,

earned our green belts,

and survived out first Girls on the Run 5k. 

 

The last few months have absolutely flown, and we are now fully ensconced in wrapping things up here, enjoying summer on the river while it lasts, and planning for new adventures while scheduling movers. Cheers to military moving season (and being blessedly done with War College papers!)

A Real Doozy of a Holiday Season.

On December 6th, on a stretch of downhill singletrack trail two miles from the parking lot, disaster struck. I heard three loud pops and what sounded like somebody else's voice screaming every profanity I knew. I dragged myself the two miles back, mostly alternating hopping and cursing, and after a long day of avoiding the emergency room I gave into Seth's insistence and confirmed what I already knew: I had broken my ankle and torn though all of the ligaments. I was going to include a photo, but I'll spare you. It looked pretty gruesome.

The holidays (and the National Security Council, it turns out) don't make allowances for mobility, so I spent the next week miserable and dejected and with very sore arms from commuting on crutches. Eventually, I secured parking under the building and figured out how to drive with an ice pack on, but the first few days were wild. There were still elf duties to be performed, after all, and we had great seats we couldn't lose at the Kennedy Center's Annual Holiday Pops.

Like all Moms exhausted from creating allthe the annual holiday magic, I was (eventually) not completely immune to the holiday spirit that grew by the day in December, measurable in elf costumes;

winter concerts and silly hats and spontaneous dance parties;

and Christmas cookies. The annual baking event which makes me, if possible, more grateful than usual for Grandma Jayne (who makes beautiful cookies and has endless patience for the job.)

I was also slightly cheered (and also, humiliated) by the discovery of the shopping scooters at Wegman's.

I somehow forgot (maybe blocked out?) that I had agreed to let the kids host a holiday party for their friends until it was too late to cancel, so motrin and ice packs and Grandma Jayne also got me through that wild Friday,

and then the hooligans celebrated the start of their (one week) Winter Break with mini golf and stolen shopping carts. If you're wondering whether 1) I hit the ball with my crutch, thereby improving my score, and 2) F+F own any items of clothing other than elf pajamas, the answers are "definitely" and "we think so but are not certain," respectively.

By now, if I wasn't exactly hitting my stride on non-weight-bearing crutches I was at least navigating deftly, and we managed The Nutcracker (Finley got to see her friends perform, and the Governor of Maryland and his wife made a cameo!) and the Christmas Eve service

(which has outsmarted miniature candle enthusiasts, unlike the churchs of my youth, and replaced them with glow sticks.) We were also treated to quite the retelling of the Christmas story, inexplicably involving this dog sled situation.

Christmas dawned warm and sunny enough to enjoy mimosas on the deck and ride the new bikes,

before the arrival of everyone's favorite Christmas present: Aunt Missy!

The ultimate team player, she was spending Christmas week visiting both the Maryland and Colorado cousins, so she only had a few days with us. We knew just what to do: pack them full. 

We went to New York City to see the decorations,

check out the sights,

and see the Rockettes at Radio City, as per tradition. Naturally, all that walking required pizza (and margaritas!) The traditional holiday NYC meal.

The next day tailgated at the Military Bowl and became Green Wave fans for the day, and wrapped up a whirlwind visit with a real Maryland crab feast.

Then, we relaxed. Just kidding. We all got sick,

although we somehow still wound up throwing a kid rager, since DJ and crew were in town. Both things seem to be tradition.

I am telling myself that the holidays are always exhausting, even if you don't have RSV and a broken ankle, sand am determined to just be grateful that we made it. I'm getting around OK in a walking boot now, and everybody has the First Week Back under our belts (and we're working on the second!) This weekend, to cheer ourselves up after bidding a sad farewell to the Texas-bound Tony and Jayne, Seth and Ford scored last minute tickets to the Ravens game in the pouring rain

and Finley and I congratulated ourselves for choosing the "sushi in a warm restaurant" option instead.

And then Ford attended a Taylor Swift party, like a real gem of a little brother, in a Travis Kelce jersey which his indulgent father searched for at every sports store in Virginia. The Eras move lasts three. hours. Ford lasted one.

Speaking of Handsome Ford, we sure are glad he's an athlete.

But his spelling game needs work. We have been laughing about these incredible slip-ups all month. (There was a war. And Santa requires help wrapping. Or at least we hope that is what's going on here.)

Cheers to surviving another holiday season! And here's hoping you can approach the new year the way Ford approaches spelling tests: with apparent reckless abandon.