Fish out of water

(that's me, when I was waaaay smarter. At least as smart as a goldfish.)

Just recently two people I have known for a long time as young and footloose childless people have become expectant parents. And they've got that look. That deer in the headlights combined with intoxicated over-the-top happiness look.

I want to help them, I really do. Because I remember vividly how completely clueless I was when I was pregnant the first time. And the worst part about it – I had no idea I was clueless.

Outwardly I pretended to be aware that this was a whole new adventure I knew nothing about. But inwardly I was sure I knew what was what. I'd listened carefully to all the advice and act as if I was taking notes. I might even have written a few things down, like "carry a bottle of antibacterial soap at all times" (still the best single bit of advice I received).

But inside I just knew I had it all figured out.

Right. It's like the goldfish in its bowl thinking, "Man, if I could just get out of this bowl, you wouldn't believe the places I'd go. I'd rule the world!"

That goldfish thinks we're all swimming out here.

I knew, for example, I'd never panic over a mild fever. In reality, we went to the emergency room when I was pretty sure Sierra's cough sounded just like a barking seal.

I knew, once again, I'd never stick a lollipop in my kid's mouth just to have some peace and quiet on a long drive. In reality, there's a box of them in my car.

I knew I'd never park my child in front of the television. In reality I would never have gotten through a shower for the first five years if it weren't for the combined power of Dora the Explorer and Blues Clues.

And there was absolutely no way my children would have anything but a balanced breakfast. In reality, Sweeties Donuts are a regular feature in our 'we're running late, let's eat kolaches' dietary plan.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to the days in the fishbowl when I was so much smarter than I am now. I knew everything and there was a certain comfort in that skewed reality.

But once you jump out of the bowl, there's no going back.

Out here, mommies and daddies just have to flop our way through as best we can.

I swear it should be right... HERE!

Seek and ye shall find.


We spent the first day of 2009 doing something completely new. Something that tied into my sorta resolution - do more outside.

We found a letterbox.

Now we did try geocaching and frankly, we suck at it. I mean we were trying to find the ones rated for village idiots and couldn't find them. And these were in our neighborhood. And we were using my mom's GPS which kept saying "Hello. You're here already. STOP ASKING FOR DIRECTIONS."

But letterboxing has gone marketedly better. No GPS, just old fashion directions. The "walk to the sign" kind of directions.

Weird, right? Apparently if you involve a satellite, I have no clue. But give me paces and my inner pirate kicks into overdrive.

Here's the site we used to find our first Letter box.

And here's where we went.





Sierra was resistant to having a purpose for running around, but Adam and I thrive on goal oriented activities. We've never been good hikers. We like to get to the place we can rock climb, but hiking is just another word for schlepping.

Ironically, I schlepped most of my childhood since my dad loved to... schlep.

Mireya is good with the goal thing too, as long as it's not too far and if she can engage in a leaf fight somewhere along the way.

I plan on trying to have a full fledged Letter box outing once a month. After which we'll watch Sierra run all over - which is what she wants to do. Then everybody's happy.

Which is, of course, the goal.

From Thongs to Peace Pipes

A very odd thing has happened in Austin. In the past few years the infamous Leslie has moved out of his usual place at 6th and Austin.


For those of you who have not been in Austin and ... met Leslie, he (yes, he) is a cross dressing semi-homeless man who often could be found most days wearing a thong.

Yes. Leave nothing to your imagination.

He had a uber shopping cart with signs protesting the general state of things.

Then he was in an ad campaign. The man has his own wikipedia page (proving once again that wikipedia is way better than your dad's old encyclopedia). And a my space page too (the picture is from there - warning - the one I've posted is by FAR the cleanest one. You have been warned).

Hey, it's Austin.

Anyway, I was driving down Congress and there, at the corner of 6th and Congress was a new guy. Dressed like a native american and holding a carved pipe with feathers over his head, he seemed poised to say something.

Then my light turned green.

Hope he sticks around. Downtown is getting way too normal for me. But I hope he doesn't opt for a thong. Not a whole lot of people can carry that off, you know?