Ice Cream and the Park: A Confession

At 35 years old, I think it is about time to be honest with myself.  I have spent decades now doing my best to create myself and to try to "find" myself... and by no means am I done... but I think I have reached a point that I can admit some truths.  

I don't really like Ice Cream.

I don't really like parks with play structures.  

You know, people say that the truth will set you free.  I should feel liberated, right?!  Why is there still some shame in my gut, then?

First with the Ice Cream shame: Is it because I spent so much of my young adulthood buying into the Ben&Jerrys movie nights with girlfriends, the Coldstone fad and the artsy Waffle cone scoop selfie?  Is it because it is oh-so-american to love Ice Cream with pie, and Ice Cream with birthday cake and Ice Cream out-of-the-carton binge?  Whatever it is, I have pretended HARD for a long time now.  And it is in no way that I hate it, or have to choke it down.  Pretending was in truth not too hard, but it was pretending none the less.  The problem with saying that you in fact do not like something though, is then you feel as if you have to stand by it as a principle.  And, I don't want to commit to never liking ice cream ever.  I like a chocolate dipped ice cream bar, sometimes...  But okay, enough pretending.  It is out now.  Not my favorite dessert.

And the park shame... so much worse as a mother.  The shame in admitting this has made me erase the words several times already!  Talk about pretending! I MUST NOT allow my selfish dislike to deprive my girls of classic fun!  I will continue to pretend, post or no post, confession or no confession.  So as long as that is out of the way...  my reasoning... pure and simple - mama fear.  It is funny the things that freak you out most.  I can do pools and the beach just fine.  I don't mind crowds or wilderness.  But for some reason, play structures get me.  I never even noticed them before, but as a mom, it is a plethora of danger in my eyes.  First, the herds of 10 year old boys, running around with absolute no notice to the wobbly babies and cautious exploring toddlers.  Their zombie chases, deafening machine gun noises, the pirate ships and war tanks completely take over every structure in the park.  Secondly, both my brother and my first born broke their arm pretty brutally, doing nothing but slowly climbing on a slide (Grayson was actually knocked over by said 10-year-old boy types).  So Freudingly, my childhood is getting in the way for sure.  Lastly, I can't see them around the corners because there are too many corners and obstacles.  I lose sight of them too many times in a 30 second span.  I know, that one is something that I will need to get over.  But, again, in the spirit of being self aware, I am not ready to get over it.  I will face it but I can't counsel myself out of the fear yet.  I need them in sight.  I will just live with it (or make them wear bells ;)).

Please don't stop inviting me to Park dates though!  In fact it is so much better when there are more kids to ward off the 10 year olds, and more Mommas to see around more corners!  And my girls do like the park, so I go anyway.

What do you pretend about?  What have you just gone along with because it is easier or because it is a fad that you are supposed to "love?"  Confess!  I can't promise it will feel better, but in solidarity, it may feel uniting?

Parents especially - do you have any of these?  Things that you are supposed to "love" as a parent and you are pretending HARD for your kids, or for society, or for whatever?  Beach days with all the sand, Disneyland trips with all the lines, Road trips, camping trips, breastfeeding, Soccer games?  Most of these I actually do love by the way, but I see pretending happening ALL over these places!  Leave your thoughts in comments if you feel so inclined!

P.S.

Cheyenne hates Ice Cream.  She actually does gag.  I promise I didn't bait this.  Ikea soft serve is the only exception (hence the photo above).

Avalon does like the park, but her faces in these pics below from yesterday feel my pain.

Sand throwing, Shell castles and a birthday eve

We have been celebrating Cheyenne's birthday all month really.  There haven't been any bounce houses or present circles or giant princess cakes (yet), but I think that through many events and adventures honored as "for Cheyenne's birthday," she has felt celebrated.  Either way, I can't help but doubt myself (the mom guilt strikes again).  With the ever present crazy extents to which parents these days throw kids' parties, it is not surprising that this doubt has sneaked in. Chris' family always does the classic cake and ice cream, face painting and kid games, type of party.  Always so cute.  Many of Cheyenne's little friends do the rent-out the petting zoo, indoor trampoline, tinker bell show, types.  Also fun.  I just haven't gotten the gusto, the motivation, the need to go all out yet.  So far, birthdays have been only family and close friends, or we are on vacation.  We will have to see what happens for 6.  I hear it is a big one....

All of that being said, with party hats in the desert and presents all week, the actual evening of her real birthday, I wanted her to feel like she called the shots and we did all of the things that she wanted.  As it turned out, she chose on her own, the exact perfect night I would have chosen.  We got take out and walked down the beach during the golden magic hour before sunset.   We have done this exact evening countless times, but she said it was her favorite thing to do, so this was the plan.  There were some hiccups and trials this time around but the pictures tell a beautiful and glorious story.  So I'll leave out the sand-in-the-food, Avalon licking the sand, not-enough-shells woes and just share the beautiful magic hour we spent at the beach for Cheyenne's "for real" birthday.

Last day of Preschool

Cheyenne's last day of preschool coincided with her 5th birthday and so my pride is bursting out my eyeballs.  She is so graceful and stubborn and beautiful and thoughtful.  She is not easily distracted and will hold you to everything you say, including things from years past.  Her memory is impeccable and her will is steady and strong.  She is a rock in our family for sure.

Tick Tock... Five Years on the Clock

We have a five year old... as of today.
Five years ago looked like this:

 

And this morning looked like this:

 

 Time is a weird thing.  It folds on itself and stretches thin and is so much like water - the weight and the ability to change form; the thirst for it and the drowning sensation that it so often gives.  I find myself taking these shallow little breaths and having to remind myself that I need to breathe big gulps of each moment.  I need to remember that time will pass whether I breathe quickly or slowly.  I so often find myself in times of big moments (like this one) trying to hold my breath as if this is somehow going to hold time in place allowing me to keep the moment longer, hold my 4.99999 year old a little longer before the clock strikes F-I-V-E-years.  Not so the case.  Tick tock.  It is here.  Breathe it in (tick).  Breathe it out (tock).

Here is the morning...

Sister climbing into bed to wake her up, wishing on candles in bed,  chocolate muffins for breakfast.