The Many Faces of Savannah Rose

A little photographic tribute to the youngest, in honor of her upcoming half birthday.

"The Stylish Face" (to go with the pose, natch)

"The Biting Devil" (self-explanatory, yes?)

"The Gene Simmons"

"The Dance Party"

"The I Was Crying so Grandma Gave Me a Chocolate Bon Bon and Now Look How Happy I Am!"

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It's a Good Life

I have this friend. Let's call her Grace.

Grace has a very nice life. She has a charming husband whom she loves and is in love with. She has two charming, healthy children.

She has a well-paying job that she loves and where she is able to work a less-than-full-time schedule.

Her husband owns his own business, doing what he loves, and is able to work a somewhat flexible schedule.

She and her husband recently bought a big, beautiful home in a wonderful neighborhood. They live on a cul-de-sac where their kids roam and play safely with their neighbors' children. They were able to buy their home for far less than it is worth (and much less than what many of their neighbors paid).

Grace's parents live nearby and are occasionally able to help out with the kids. Grace also has lots of other family and friends nearby.

Grace and her family live in San Diego.

Enough said. Are you ready to kill Grace with your eye-daggers of envy yet?

Her life is pretty much perfect. I'm jealous of her on a regular basis. I'm pretty sure she has more bathrooms than I have rooms.

And yet, she called me today asking me if I had to live somewhere else, where would it be? She knew that I'd lived in Los Angeles, Washington DC, Atlanta, Savannah, and Boston. (Sheesh, I get tired just thinking about all that moving.)

She and her husband are talking about leaving San Diego.

My reaction: Excuse me, wha-HUH?!

Because her life? Is seriously about as good as it gets.

But even with the two of them working, Grace and her husband are going broke living in this crazy-expensive state. Which seems to be getting more and more expensive by the minute. And THAT? I can completely relate to.

But even paying through the nose for everything from groceries to gas to the mortgage cannot deflate my excitement about living here and my bewilderment that Grace and her husband would want to leave.

Now I know, San Diego is not for everyone. But if you happen to have family in an area of the country that is so astoundingly beautiful and so eminently enjoyable year-round, like we do, and like Grace does, how do you think that moving somewhere else will be better?

We don't have a big fancy house. We don't live in a stellar neighborhood. I don't have a job that I'm passionate about, or any job for that matter.

But I have a home. A charming husband whom I love and am in love with. Two (mostly) charming, healthy children. And lots of family and friends nearby.

And we live in America's Finest Freaking City.

You couldn't drag me out of here if you tried.
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Things to be Grateful for Today

1. Savannah went into Kids' Club at the YMCA without crying. For the first time ever. And stayed until I was done working out.

2. Free pizza for lunch.

3. Savannah ate some apple slices.

4. Chelsea likes the Little House books (so far).

5. Savannah told me she needed to poop and then pooped in the toilet instead of her diaper. Or training pants. Or panties. Hallelujah!

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Unhappy Camper

I have tried to like camping. Really, I have.

I have camped at the beach.

I have camped in the desert.

And now I have camped in the mountains.

Can I be done trying to like camping now?

I just. don't. like it.

I want to like it. For the children. And for my husband, who really does like it. But I just don't.

I don't like the dirt. Or the bugs. Or the hikes. Or the sleeping on the ground.

I do like the stars. The campfire. The s'mores.

But we live by the beach. So we can go have a bonfire with stars and s'mores just about whenever we want, minus the dirt, and bugs, and hiking, and butt and/or hip hitting the ground all night long because your fancy air mattress is not properly inflated.

Come to think of it, we have a firepit. So we can do fire + stars + s'mores without even leaving the house!

Top that, camping.

For now, I think I'm all done. I'll take a year off, then try again. We went camping with some really lovely friends this time, and I was just such a Debbie Downer. I hate to ruin everyone else's trip, so I'll just stay away for a while.

Part of the problem with camping is me. But part of the problem with camping is my children, particularly Savannah. She's just too young to be fun on a camping trip. She won't sleep through the night, she pours lemonade all over me and herself, and she throws a handful of dirt into her own eyes. Maybe in a year she'll be more manageable.

Lest you think I spoiled the entire trip, here are a few pictures to prove otherwise.

Chelsea's patented "stylish pose."

Now THERE'S a happy camper.

See? I was there, too. And I even smiled!

Post-camping exhaustion. Like father, like daughter.

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