kids | girlonahalfshill

July 30, 2016

Full Circle

Yesterday’s push paid off. We’re in California again, with only five hours and change between us and friends – the community that has embraced us for the last five years. I’ll have less than a week to set ducks in a row for the relocation and scoop up a few more visits with loved ones before the moving van needs to be underway.

It has been quite the year, quite the summer. Incredible highs, hard lows and so much left to do. But, the lease is signed on our apartment in Berwyn, I have a part time job lined up and have been in contact with my dean and the head of the Political Science department at Bryn Mawr. Things are falling into place and the future, as they say, is bright.

My sons and I have shared seven amazing, brilliant, challenging weeks and have seen so, so much. We’ve found new podcasts to love, listened to the Beatles and Billy Joel, Stephen Sondheim and Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels. We talked about puberty, love and relationships, college and future plans. We bonded over paddle boats and kettle corn.

And, as we approach the tail end of this particular journey and the cusp of the next, I am so grateful… and nervous and relieved and exhausted. But mostly, grateful.

July 12, 2016

Purpose

Highly abused, often confused buzzword that it is – this summer, which has been the culmination of five years of planning and dreaming, is fueled by purpose. Reconnecting to my father’s memory and his family, exploring our soon-to-be home, introducing my sons to history, science, geography and literature through activities and travel and spending time with my sons.

A dear friend told me that success is “constancy of purpose.” If so, then the scope of what I have set us against this summer would argue against our success. I had planned so much more… LSAT prep, books, heaps of books that are weighing down the back of my car, but which I have yet to crack open. It seems that I may have to content myself with the fact that our travels are running on schedule and we are all happy and healthy. My academic goals will be the primary focus soon enough and the boys have the bulk of my attention for now.

But, today we reached Pennsylvania and set foot on Bryn Mawr’s campus for the first time. It’s beautiful, but it didn’t feel intimidating or cold. It reminded me of Cambridge with its masonry and chimneys. Tomorrow I’ll meet my dean and get an official tour of the campus, but I have seen enough to feel confident about the fit. My eldest son called my mom to tell her about our visit and he described the college as a well-designed castle. My youngest kept looking at the buildings while confirming that we were in the right place, “They’re giving you money to go to school here? Here? Good job, mom!”

I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve had ideas for posts, but we took a day off from productivity in Nashville on the 4th of July and then there were a few intense days of driving, followed by visits with my relatives in North Carolina, which were wonderful days that gave my sons treasured time on the beach and the opportunity to remember their grandpa, while getting to know their great aunt and great uncles for the first time. (They have met their Great Uncle Dan before, but briefly at my father’s memorial service, so this was a much different experience for them.)

And now we are almost ready to point out car westward again. And there is more relief in that thought than I imagined when I embarked on this journey. In late breaking news, my boyfriend just notified me that he’s gotten approval for his request for time off, so he’ll be helping me drive the U-Haul from California to Pennsylvania in August! I don’t know if I’m more relieved to learn that I won’t have to learn how to drive a 17′ U-Haul truck on my own or to find out that we’ll have a week of travel together and although I know that moving may seem like a less than idyllic vacation, this is the same man who has stood by my side through my father’s passing, the passing of my friend and employer, my worries about my children and my parents. He’s been my comfort through it all and when he’s by my side, adversity doesn’t feel overwhelming. It all feels more hopeful, so I’m beyond happy to know that we’ll have this time together.

On that note, I am going to sign off for the night. I will try to write again sooner next time. There have been ideas shooting through my head for days, but I haven’t found the time to set them to type. Good night.

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July 1, 2016

Reconnection & Reversals

It has been a full week and then some since my last post. Well, chronologically, it hasn’t been a full week yet, but it feels like a full helping of travel and experiences. Last report, we were finishing up our visit to Austin and heading on to Houston.

Houston gave me a chance to see my cousin and her husband and two year old before reconnecting with a friend who I hadn’t seen for over fourteen years. He was so welcoming and it was such a treat to be welcomed into his home after so many years. It has also been enriching to introduce my kids to so many of my friends. Many of them have met them before, but the boys have developed into “real individuals,” especially within the last year or so. Despite the challenges of having a teenager and a Spencer, I’m still enjoying their development and find their company increasingly amusing as they age.

During a moment of frustration yesterday, I accused my eldest of behaving like an ADD child; he has a tendency to make noise constantly. As an only child, I grew up in oppressive silence and, although I tortured my parents with incessant humming and occasional tap routines, I find myself missing quiet as an adult. Tyler repaid my comment with six hours of silence. I apologized and he accepted, but he maintained his abstention until close of day. This morning, I was delighted to find that he had regained his voice and was in a fine mood.

I, however, woke up at 5:30 a.m. to find my skull threatening to split in two, but there was no way that I was going to spend our only day in New Orleans hiding from the light with the covers pulled over my head. Three ibuprofen, water and a determined nap pushed it out of the forefront and we launched into a full day of exploration. Just two days ago, I was recoiling at my friend’s telling of his encounter with an alligator in a Louisiana rest stop, but after holding one, I find that I am rather fond of the little guys. (The jury is still out on the fourteen footers.)

New Orleans is a much bigger city than I expected. One sees the photos of the French Quarter and forgets that a modern city has grow up all around it. Canal Street looks like Los Angeles with its parade of palm trees. But the old part of the city is certainly charming and the heat really didn’t feel oppressive, the way that it did in Houston. Maybe we just got lucky, but it felt sort of velvety.

The swamp may be the best discovery though. It makes me wish that I had hours to explore it and was a better photographer. There’s a wildness to it that is only matched in my experience by Alaska. There’s actually something similar about the landscape of the two states. After mile after mile of manicured, industrial agriculture, Louisiana feels untamed. Tangles of trees, vines and grasses rise out of the dark waters. There are swaths where they’ve drained the land and we’ve seen rice fields and sugarcane, but those feel like the exception and surely can’t compete with the impression that the wilds make.

Tomorrow, we leave NOLA to enjoy the hospitality of friends of friends in Huntsville, Alabama. But for tonight, I am here with my sleepy children who walked the French Quarter until they thought their feet would fall off snoozing in the next bed at our Airbnb. Wishing everyone sweet dreams and a good night.

June 25, 2016

The draw of people

Sitting at a desk, working day after day, this road trip has been a daydream for the past five years. It is the culmination of high hopes and escapist fantasies, an ambitious attempt to reconnect with my sons after a year and a half of absentee parenting… it is all of this and it is tiring. And I am finding that our friends and family are the best antidote to road weariness.

Sitting at a desk, views, vistas and monuments draw me, a museum sounds like a valuable opportunity to broaden my boys’ awareness and a national park within shooting distance seems like an offer we can’t refuse, but in the driver’s seat, in the choice between a familiar face and a motel, the familiar face has been winning every time. Twice now, we have abandoned our set plans to join friends sooner. And I really can’t say enough in favor of the quality of friends that I have in my life – from Carlos, who I’ve known for quite some time now – longer than either of us care to admit, to Sam, a former co-worker who was kind enough to meet the boys and I for lunch in Oklahoma City and who introduced us to The Best Tacos, to my cousin and his wife in Enid, OK – they welcomed our extended stay and made us feel at home, to Bryan in Austin, another former co-worker who is so much more…

And the trip isn’t half over. We still have so many lives to intersect along the way. There are the small interactions as well, and, thanks to the boys, I’m often in the audience for those. Spencer has taken to interviewing shopkeepers and waitresses about their products and food, he’ll wax poetic about the value of small businesses and the innovation and quality that he finds there. Tyler stops to help younger kids, holds doors, meets people’s eyes and wins them over with his smiles.

And in between the stops, we’re becoming increasingly familiar with Roman Mars of 99% Invisible, a podcast we hadn’t listened to before the trip commenced and now, Richard Feynman, as we make our way through the audiobook, “Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman.” We finished Douglas Adams’ “Life, the Universe and Everything” yesterday, to mixed reviews. The random, absurdity of Adams’ style may have thrown the boys a bit, but Feynman’s adventures have captivated them.

And that hoped for reconnection with my sons has been easier to find than I had hoped. I suppose it was never lost; they have known that I wasn’t avoiding them, but had been trying to make ends meet. There has been less academic investment than I had hoped, for them and me. (I had dreamed of studying for my LSAT and practicing math facts, reading and writing with the boys. Oh well.) But there have been sunsets and stories and adventures. There will be memories that last for ages and friendships deepened and valued. That seems good enough for now. That seems like a win.

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June 17, 2016

Utah

Yesterday we made it to Utah – driving to the Bonneville Salt Flas, through Salt Lake City and finally, spending the night on Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake.

There were balmy, buffeting winds on the island and the day wrapped up with the boys spreading out their blanket to catch the wind, chasing after their banana peels and cracker boxes, before we decided against trying to set up our tent in the gale. We snuggled up in the car and bedded down for the night.

We woke up to jackrabbits and bison on the beach. A quick tour of the island introduced us to more bison, pronghorn antelope, lizards and a multitude of grasshoppers, one of whom tried to gnaw on my hand after Spencer introduced the two of us. Spencer sprang along the path, delighted by the grasshoppers and retuned to the car intent on photographing every animal in sight.

The following five hour drive took us through the mountains, to mesas and plateaus of varying shades – initially forested with forests, but then brick red, sage grey, then sandy white and back to terra cotta. The boys started out engaged by another set of Planet Money podcasts and a few chapters from Douglas Adams’ “Life, the Universe and Everything,” but that amusement had dwindled four hours later, by which time the eldest had been asleep for an hour and my youngest has taken to jabbering manically about his boredom.

Tonight we have reservations at Hite Campground on the northern side of Lake Powell in the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. The approach was dramatic as the road carved through canyons and Hite Overlook felt akin to the view at the Grand Canyon, only without the crowds. One couple sat at beside their RV, watching us peer over the edge with trepidation. Our campground was desolate. We had the entire place to ourselves, with the exception of one bush bunny who hopped away as I approached.

Tonight’s dinner was less than a four course meal. There were leftover grapes and crackers from earlier snacking and a burrito that met with no one’s approval, but none of us were terribly hungry, so we worked on our blogs and I cracked open John Stuart Mill’s “On Liberty” for the umteenth time. At dusk, the bats came out and swooped overhead, scooping up their evening meal.

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