Copasetic Flow

“She’s not allowed to go to the class since they changed the age limits.  We’ll have to try to peel her off of the tour somewhere along the way and take her to do something else while 1 and 2 are in the project portion,” I whispered to my partner.  (At least I thought I’d whispered it.  I’d soon be proven wrong.)    We were riding on the bus to a local museum where the kids were taking part in a class that had been re-imagined, which was to say that the age ranges had been changed.  While almost 3 y.o. No. 3 had been welcome last year, this year she’d been uninvited by the new age range that started at 5 y.o. Class-time was divided into two parts.  The first section was always a tour of the museum that included exhibits related to a project everyone would do independently in the second part of the class.  We could fudge 3 into the tour portion, (everyone’s allowed to walk around the museum right?), but we didn’t think we’d be able to get her into the project. My task of peelin

“I’ll need your ID, and yours too ma’am” the flak-jacketed guard said peering across me at mom-person.  “Then, I’ll need you to go ahead and loop back around to the offsite parking lot back there.  If everyone will exit the car and head back this way on foot, I’ll meet you ror a briefing once your background checks clear.” Five year old No. 2 managed to contain his exuberance just until I got the car window back up.  “A Briefing!!!???  Wow!!!” “Yup, just like on Justice League!” I replied. “Wow!  We’re getting a briefing!” I parked, and the gang, six year-old No. 1, the aforementioned 2, and two year-old No. 3, fairly tumbled out of the car eager to get to their briefing.  This adventure began when driving between Las Cruces and Cloudcroft, NM, we’d decided to try to see the Missile Park at White Sands Missile Range on a lark. We reached the sidewalk adjacent to the guard station, just as the guard was walking up.  We’d passed the background check.  He handed us the piece of

We experienced an incredible luxury a few days back: a gentle rain storm at the DeYoung Museum of Fine Art.  We were killing a day so we figured we’d go see a little art, drink a little coffee, and hangout with the kids.  The rain had kept quite a few folks away from the museum and had driven just about everyone else inside.  The five of us, the parents along with 6 year old No. 1, 5 year old No. 2, and 2 year old No. 3 sat in the museum cafe sipping our coffees and apple juices looking out into the adjacent and oh-so-damp sculpture garden.  As the level of the apple juice bottles fell, one of the kids looked up and said, “Ummm, can we go play?” “Sure.” And that was it.  The whole gang wearing nothing heavier than a sweatshirt  trundled out into the sculpture garden in the consistently falling heavy mist that us San Franciscans call rain. The garden is a big grassy expanse probably equal to the size of two lawns from typical American suburbia.  The kids got to wonder from statu

Until just recently, we’ve always referred to genitalia as ‘junk’ when talking with the kids.  it’s not that we don’t think you should talk about genitalia, in fact, through no design of our own, it’s quite the opposite at our house, conversations about junk come up fairly frequently.  It’s just the word junk had a better ring to it.  We’ve also committed the other sex-ed sin of calling vaginas ‘innies’, and penises ‘outies’.  While I’ve heard this can be an issue, for us at any rate, it wasn’t. When you live with three kids in a variety of 1200, (on average), square foot houses, everyone sees everyone else naked, a lot.  Between grad school, and then moving to San Francisco, our real estate budget has never really allowed for the privacy that might come from spreading out through several rooms, (or sweet merciful heaven), more than one bathroom. But, even the singular bathroom has been a blessing.  Each kid as soon as they’ve been able to walk has asked to ‘use the potty’ wit

On our recent explore of Southern New Mexico, we took the gang 6 y.o No.1, 5 y.o. No. 2, and 2 y.o. No. 3 here. The park is exactly what it's title infers, a variety of missiles situated in a park like setting. The climate in New Mexico is rather dry most of the year, so the landscaping around the missiles consists of crushed rock rather than grass. Winding sidewalks connect all the different missile exhibits. If you're not familiar with White Sands Missile Range, it's where much of America's rocket development took place in the years following World War II. Wernher von Braun worked at this site as well as the Redstone Arsenal near Huntsville, Alabama. The plane that carried him between the two sites is on display in the park. The missile range where the park is situated is fenced off, and can only be entered by approaching a guard station situated about 5 miles down NM-213 off of US 70 just east of Las Cruces, NM. We new the park was there since we used to live in