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 he...

“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 for 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 ...

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. ...

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...

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 ...

We had a blast camping across the Golden Gate Bridge at Pantoll Campground this weekend!  It’s one of the few campgrounds in the Bay Area where reservations aren’t required, and even better yet, you don’t have to drive to get there! We set out on Friday afternoon from San Francisco State University on the 28 and rode to the Golden​ Gate Transit (GGT) Center stop.  From there we walked upstairs, hopped on the GGT 4, and took it across the bridge to Equator Coffee in Mill Valley.  The coffee shop is great for kids, and has enough outdoor seating for our gang of 5, (3 kids and 2 parents).  If you forgot to bring water, (we did), the liquor store situated next to the coffee shop is also handy.  We waited at the coffee shop for a pleasant 20 minutes or so for the Marin Transit 61.  The 61 winds up through the mountains passing Muir Woods on the way, and stops directly across the street from Pantoll campground. The forecast for Friday night at Pantoll calle...

Two-year-old No. 3 and my stumbling crash a few weeks back has become shared legend between she and I.  I got to hang out with the gang all day today, and when we arrived at soccer practice, three weeks, and one-and-a-half blocks East of our tumble on the sidewalk, she pointed down the road and said "That's where we tumbled, and went crrsshhccc." I said, "Yeah, and where'd you land?" "On my backpack."  Then unexpectedly, she said, "You landed on your cheek."  I had completely forgotten that she'd been looking right at me as she landed!  Her attention to detail during our crash is astounding!  I had landed on my cheek. Later in the afternoon, No. 3 and I headed back out to pick up chicken at our local market.  As we rounded the corner to our bus stop, a woman said "Hi Diana!" The kids have lots of friends in the neighborhood I don't know thanks to their daily roamings.  I introduced myself and we started to talk. ...