• Vitamin C for brightness
• Retinol to smooth and accelerate skin cell turnover
• Peptides to boost firmness and youthfulness of cells
• Collagen to increase elasticity and hold everything together 

Are you guys watching The Politician on Netflix? It was released on my birthday (also Gwyneth Paltrow’s birthday) and it is amazing. The styling, the costumes, and visually satisfying artistic cinematography are reasons to watch it on their own. But the most exciting thing is that in the same way that Inglorious Basterds does, it perfectly nails the flippant macabre, and manages to take extremely heavy material and somehow make it light and even funny. (Disclaimer: I’ve only seen two episodes.) I am hooked!

My friend, Bridget, in Zurich recommended it and she has impeccable taste so that was my first clue it would be fantastic. Secondly, I saw that Gwyneth Paltrow was in it and I love her. People either love or hate GP; I understand this. But I love her. She is always in super interesting, different, avant-garde productions. Finally, I started the pilot and one of my favorite songs of all time, Sufjan Stevens’ Chicago, is used for the opening credits sequence. Done deal. I knew I was not wasting my time. Also, the opening credits are super captivating. You will not want to look away, or skip over.

I am in such a fabulous spot as far as shows go right now. We have three going simultaneously - two of which are on Showtime, The Affair and On Becoming a God in Central Florida - so they’re only released once per week. Of course, the other show is The Politician, which was all dropped at once. It’s so exciting to have good shows to watch. Do you prefer a season to be dropped all at once, or to come out once per week?

(Photo via Indiewire)

I've been noticing lately, through my mindfulness and meditation practices, something omnipresent in my life: Anger. I've always been such a happy person, or at least felt expected to be cheerful and happy, that it took me a long time to recognize my anger for what it was. In my quest to understand my anger better, and to know why it was coming up so strongly after a life of smiling and laughing and people pleasing, I started reading. A lot. One fascinating article I found (and can't seem to re-find to link to, unfortunately) spoke of the moments in our day that give us a good read on our baseline mental state. It said that how you react when you burn the toast is a strong indicator of how we're genuinely feeling when all filters are removed. Think about it, you burn toast and it's no big deal. Just make more. But it can really make you flip your lid. And just reading that, I felt the anger bubble up fast, and red that I had experienced when I missed out on a parking spot the day before. Same concept, different no big deal. Deep down, I was angry. More or less all the time. Anger was my baseline mental state.

In our modern lives and these bizarre times, there are plenty of things to be angry about. Take politics, for example. I mean, that's enough. We can basically just stop right there. But life has so much more. Work, schedules, money, relationships.  However, for me, the biggest source of my anger all made sense when I received my New York Times Parenting email three days ago, containing a piece on 'Mother Rage,' a term I had never heard anyone else use, but had identified myself - and learned to keep to myself because, for shame!

On the select few occasions that I had said in confidence to someone, a couple times even another mother, that "you don't know true rage until you're a mother" it did not go over well. And it turns out that that sense of shame that accompanies mother rage is damaging all on its own, and ironically, serves to make our rage cycle, and get even worse as time goes on. In her essay entitled The Rage Mothers Don't Talk About, author Minna Dubin writes,

I start working with a life coach. He assigns me a section of Daniel Goleman’s book “Emotional Intelligence.” Goleman cites the work of University of Alabama psychologist Dolf Zillmann, who discovered that the physiological effects of rage can last for days, and that rage builds on rage. Repeated aggravations — “a sequence of provocations” — can dramatically increase anger, so that by the third or fourth rage trigger, the person is reacting on a level 10 in response to a misplaced key or a dropped spoon.

Amazingly, that is exactly the burnt toast analogy, explained for overwhelmed mothers, isn't it? I felt such a wave of relief reading Dubin's essay, because when you're in it, and feeling ashamed of it, mom rage feels like a deep and personal defect. I imagine all the other moms I know as being perfect - as if they're straight out of a Little Golden Book from the 1950's. One of my neighbors truly does seem like a perfect mom, and Coco has made it abundantly clear to me that she'd rather live at their house than at ours, but I'm smart enough to know that she is a mom, too, and Coco is never there for her mother rage. Sigh. Luckily, another neighbor mom has shared with me that she drinks more or less on the daily to keep from killing people, to which I said 'cheers!' and understood exactly what she meant. Note: If you don't understand exactly what she meant, that probably means that you do not have a husband, and two children and full-time job. ;)

I keep trying to find the secret sauce to motherhood. And I haven't found it yet. Being a full-time stay at home mom was delightful for me when Coco was a baby, but then it became increasingly isolating and difficult as she emerged into toddlerhood. Working full-time as a mom left me unbelievably overwhelmed and short-fused, but even still the reliability of the daily rhythm was a positive. Being a part-time working mom and part-time student mom is kind of insane, but I'm doing my very best to create a schedule that, as Dubin writes, "fills up my patience cup." She elaborates, "when I manage to exercise, make art and eat healthy food, I have a longer fuse," and it truly felt like she was speaking to my soul as I read that. However, I couldn't help but laugh when she concluded, "Unfortunately, as a working mom with a small child I am not swimming in spare time, and cooking, running and unpaid hobbies often fall to the bottom of the to-do list." Sigh. This is the mother's dilemma.

I know that I am more present and growl less when I am able to make my art - this blog and my podcast; and I know that cooking and exercise make me a better mom, too. So I'm determined to guard enough time in my schedule each week for these things. Not for myself, but for filling up my patience cup for them. Framing it as something I do more for my children than myself really highlights the validity of that self-care and what it really is after all. I highly recommend that you read Dubin's full essay here, and please share your thoughts and feelings about it in the comments below. I would love to hear what you think!

No, this is not about my birthday, which basically has been consumed by Coco's birthday for the rest of time. It's about hers! Coco was born two days after me, and two days before my mom, and coincidentally, two of her little besties have the same birthday as Coco. This makes it so hard to find a day for her party, and it also creates an internal dilemma for me every year - especially the last three years as her birthday has fallen on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, in other words, on good party days.

It feels really weird to invite a child to your own child's birthday party on their own birthday. But it would feel even weirder not to invite them! I really love that we have been able to have Coco's birthday on her actual birthday for the last few years (and not on mine, which is what happened for a couple years there!) but it is a weird reality that two of her close friends have the same birthday. Last year, one of them was able to make it and then we went to their party the very next day. In this particular case, the little girl's brother has his birthday the day before hers, so they always do a joint birthday party together. Another layer of complexity!

Planning is always a challenge, and there is rarely going to be a date and time that winds up working out for absolutely everyone, so I just make a plan and hope for the best. And here are some photos from Coco's party last year. All of the ideas, including cake design and candy kabobs for each guest, were her own. That girls knows how to throw a party!

Coco's chosen theme was donuts. She designed her cake (more below) and was then delighted to find a donut piñata that matched!

We took this drawing of Coco's cake design into the bakery and they worked their magic!

Coco picked out the table items. It all came together so well!

I loved that the bakery added the little donut rings around the outside! And that pink tassel decoration from Target has been the best. I keep it in the basement on our party shelf and get it out for all of Coco's parties.

Coco, ever the style maven, chose the black and white cake with raspberry filling inside!

The party started with backyard games, including ring toss and pin the horn on the unicorn. Then after cake and presents, it was piñata time. All in all a super fun time!

I think the scariest thoughts at 3 am. I never used to wake up at 3 am. Well, that’s not true. I did, but I was up to breastfeed and so it was lovely and sweet and cozy and I went right back to sleep with a snuggling babe in my arms. In those days, 3 am was an entirely different animal. But once Theo was old enough to not be partaking in the 3 am feed, I found myself waking up, unable to go back to sleep, and despite the sweet sleeping baby next to me breathing deeply and sleeping soundly, 3 am became a very terrifying space. For a few years there, I woke up at 3 am, more or less on the dot, and my mind, my soul, my very body were flooded with existential angst and regret and fear. Not fun stuff.

During one such middle of the night terror session, it occurred to me that my expat friends - the gorgeous women in the photo above - might forget about me before I have a chance to move back and get myself back into their orbit again. It made my heart ache in the spooky darkness while I stared, wide-eyed, at the patches of blue light that splashed into the room randomly through the curtains and blinds, illuminating swatches of the ceiling and walls of my bedroom. I felt an emptiness that overwhelmed me.

I grabbed my phone, which is normally a terrible idea at 3 am, but I knew I wasn’t going back to sleep anyway, so I started googling. Did you know that “I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends” is one of the top five regrets of the dying? As I read those words, I went from feeling totally defeated and fearful to resolute. I started texting my friends more. It’s so easy when you’re far, far away, to drift apart. It’s only normal that text exchanges become rote and shallow. “How are you doing?” gets back a “Busy! Kids are in soccer and ballet and life is good” and it ends there. Instead of doing that, I started texting my friends and sharing things I had been pondering - grey hair and wrinkles, loss of identity as a mother, the fleeting quality of time. It turns out a lot of them were thinking about the same things. I found myself having discussions, albeit over text for the most part, that were meaningful and allowed us to connect with each other and what we were experiencing beyond what’s obvious and on the surface.

It felt good to maintain those relationships, but also really confusing as I tried to make new friends here. And then, on top of that, came the confusion of knowing that deep down, I plan to leave again, but I never talk about it. That added another layer of complexity where my relationships feel false somehow because I’m concealing this huge piece of myself. And it really does feel like a piece of myself. The things we strive for are central to our identities. Isn’t the act of sharing our hopes and dreams the very stuff that builds connection and allows us to experience closeness with others? What if that is kept to oneself?

I don’t have all the answers yet, but what I’m learning as a repat, and also from reflecting back on my time as an expat, is that we have to be comfortable with ambivalence. We have to be able to simultaneously pursue two opposing ideals. I’m burrowing deep into my life here, making friends, joining a gym, building a community. And yet, I’m also focused on my goal of moving back to Zürich, building my new career, developing myself as an individual different from the person I am right now. In other words, as I burrow in, I’m also reaching out, striving for growth.

As we get older, finding truly close, intimate friendships becomes more and more difficult, less and less likely. It’s not enough to say, “that was my life then, this is my life now” and let them go. I think it’s important to stay in touch with our friends, as is evidenced by how if affects the dying. Are you staying in touch with people you care about? Why or why not? Does knowing that it’s a top regret of the dying make you want to change what you’re doing?

I love Volkswagens and have never bought another car in my life. They're so reliable and sophisticated and comfortable without being stuffy or over the top. Most of all, VWs have great style and design. Always. I have waxed poetic about my love for their ad campaigns before, but the latest ads for their new fleet of all-electric vehicles (set to hit roads in just a few years!) are truly swoon worthy.


Like this two-page spread to explain the "Lemonade" above. Are their advertising reps geniuses, or what?! I love how they pulled in so much history of the brand and their story in this campaign. Swoon.


And this is so gorgeous - with the side view, and the surfboard on top! Yes I want for J and I to haul our kids and dog (maybe) and yoga mat and surfboard around in this totally rad electric VW bus. YES! Swooning again. :)

And I nearly started crying whilst watching this ad. That song, the notion of pivoting and moving forward with hope in the face of uncertainty after a major setback. Wonderful. Volkswagen will always have my heart! And in a weird way, it feels relevant to my own personal expat-repat experiences that were unfolding in the years that VW were dealing with their emissions scandal. From 2015 until very recently, I have felt completely lost and unsure of what is next for me. I feel like I, too, have found the light in the darkness. Swoon forever!

Are you a Volkswagen fan? If you are, please swoon with me in the comments below, and if you're not, please do not share your thoughts or opinions with me at this time! I'm just too in love with these ads to bear it. :)

Ads via 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Coco helping me carry home groceries in the utterly worthless free bags from Coop, way back in the day.

Yesterday, I went to the grocery store. Standard enough, right? Not really. I realized yesterday that I have mostly adjusted to American grocery stores and it felt like a win! I went to Super 1 Foods, which is a gigantic grocery store up on 29th, a “busy street” in our very residential, sweet neighborhood. There is everything easy about going to Super 1 from an expat perspective.

• I drive there in about 7 minutes and park in the parking lot - for free! 
• At check-out, they bag my groceries for me, in my bag of choice - also for free!
• If I want someone to help me out to the car, they will push the cart out to the car (even if there are children in said cart, so that my hands are free to find keys), and then they help me to put the bags in the car, and finally, take the cart back to the store for me - also for FREE!

On top of all this, while in the store, I can buy so many ingredients for Mexican food and there are dozens and dozens of options to choose from in each category. Enchilada sauces, taco seasoning packets, guacamole packets, hot sauces galore! Tajin, authentic tortillas and tortilla chips, spices, all the salsas! It’s quite wonderful. Then there is the same thing in the Asian aisle. Multiple varieties of rice noodles and curry pastes and Sriracha and chili garlic sauce in a jar. Yum!

But there is a very dark side to shopping at Super 1, too. For the first few years we were back, I basically never went there. And when I did, I literally had to psych myself up and prep mentally for a trip to Super 1. As with any jumbo American supermarket, Super 1 is just SO big and vast inside. And it’s sooooo cold in there in the summer. It felt like I was spending hours and hours just walking around when I would go there and it stressed me out. Why were there so many aisles? Why were there so many of each thing?! Why. For a long time, I stuck to Trader Joe’s because it felt more like a European grocery store (minus the practically freezing temperatures) and it didn’t give me the sheer anxiety that Super 1 did. I had a short list of things that I didn’t necessarily need all the time that I would buy at Super 1. It included:

• my favorite organic Southwest Taco seasoning (I used to order 12-packs on Amazon and take them back to Zurich in my suitcase on trips home;)
• Krab salad from their deli and Ritz crackers (I’m sorry, it’s just so good. Don’t judge) 
• Hot sauces, like Tapatio, Frank’s Red Hot, Cholula and salsas (duh!)
• Jaunita’s Tortilla Chips (the absolute best!) 
• Romaine lettuce (random) 
• Doritos (the best ghetto garnish for a taco salad I make in the summer)
• French Salad dressing (second ghetto ingredient for said taco salad, but so yum)
• Heinz 57 ketchup in the stand up squeezer that ensures you never squeeze that yucky ketchup water out onto your burger or hot dog, (but which J always puts in the fridge cap side up anyway! Drrh)
• C&H white sugar (big bag!) 
• Canning supplies for freezer jam

Basically it was just the most random assortment of stuff that you can’t get (or which isn’t very good - romaine, I’m looking at you) at Trader Joe’s. But I avoided it. I avoided Super 1 because something about that gigantic, sprawling grocery store filled with scary things like Twinkies and gross, unethically raised, non-organic meats made me cringe inside. And not just cringe. I would get literally panicky and wind up leaving without half the things I needed if I didn’t have a list. Yikes! And yes, I realize that Trader Joe’s has plenty of bad meats, but the packaging is cuter. I was so relieved when a friend told me that she had a panic attack in a giant grocery store after moving back to the US from Zurich. She literally ditched the cart with everything in it in a random aisle and left the store crying. I get it! I totally get it.

In a way it makes sense, because even in Portland, we did our shopping at Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods, and the best grocery store ever, New Seasons. Fred Meyer freaked me out, as did Safeway. By the way, Super 1 makes your average Safeway look pretty small. All of our stores in Portland were pretty small. In Switzerland, there are two main grocery stores. Migros and Coop. Most people are either a Migros person or a Coop person, but very few are both. I was a Coop person all the way from the very beginning when I went to Neuchâtel in 2006. Neighborhood Migros and Coops were pretty small, the size of a Trader Joe’s, while at major shopping centers, there would be a “big” Coop or Migros. But even the big Coop we went to at Sihlcity didn’t freak me out the way Super 1 does. I guess some things just don’t make sense.

 But yesterday, I realized something when I went to Super 1. Granted, getting out of the parking lot afterward was kind of annoying, but driving is annoying period, especially in Spokane. Ha! So I won’t let that color my experience, because in the store, maybe for the first time, I was totally at ease! It struck me that I know where everything is now! I bought my favorite salsas and sour cream and grabbed some Tillamook cheese that was on sale and these adorable Mission “street taco” corn tortillas for making baby quesadillas. And I swung by the bakery to check out cakes for Theo’s birthday, got a bottle of Pinot Grigio, went through the check out and went on my merry way. All good. It only took five years! ;)

 Fellow repats, what has been hard for you to adjust to when moving back home? Or, maybe you’re not a repat and find big grocery stores scary regardless? Tell me all about it in the comments below!

I have been bummed that Homeland was postponed - again! - until Fall. But at the same time, I am sort of happy that they’re not releasing it during the summer. I mean, summer is a time to be outside, not sitting on the couch. So we don’t actually need Homeland right now anyway. And with it being the last season, it’s kind of going to suck to watch each episode knowing there won’t be any more. Like, it will really suck.

But I still wanted some Homeland in my life for some reason. I have thought back often to season one when Carrie and Brody met face-to-face for the first time after the surveillance was taken down. Do you remember the episode when she follows him to the support group meeting for returned vets? I have thought about that episode a lot as a repat because I wish I had a group like that to go to. I guess that is why I started the podcast, really. I couldn’t find the podcast I was looking for, so I just created it myself, and a Facebook group to go along with it. But even though I love doing the podcast, and I know it’s helping people, I would still love to be able to get together in person with a group of other repats who get it and share.

For one of my grad school courses last winter, we had to attend a support group meeting - either AA or NA, or any type really. Just a group of people coming together to share a common struggle. I went to an AA meeting and I was bowled over by the non-judgment and support and comfort of it for me - as a repat! Obviously I was open about being there for school and didn’t share or anything, but there is something about a group of people coming together that is just powerful. I really wished that I could go back. Struggling with this process of repatriation is just so lonely and hard and J and I can only give each other so much understanding and support. I would just love, love, love a meeting.

So back to Homeland - J and I went back and watched the episode when Carrie and Brody meet outside the support group meeting. And then, it turns out that season one is so good that we’re just watching it all over again anyway. But oh my god, Carrie and Brody’s exchange in the parking lot went right over my head when I watched it as an expat in Switzerland, but it stabbed me right through the heart watching it now.

Brody: Can I ask you a question - where was it you said you served again - Baghdad?

Carrie: Yeah

Brody: How come it’s so hard to talk about it with people who weren’t there?  

Carrie: I have a better question, how come it’s so hard to talk with anyone who wasn’t there about anything at all?

Well, there it is. Sometimes life is fine being back here. Sometimes I feel like I’m totally okay. Sometimes I feel like I will die if I don’t get back to Zürich. Sometimes I want to crawl out of my skin and scream. Other times I want to sleep all day. Then there are the urges to run away from everything - motherhood, marriage, turning 40 - just screw it all and go live on an island. And then sometimes I want to put my most euphoric playlist on my AirPods as loud as it will go and dance by myself with my eyes closed. No matter what, it’s a perfect storm. Change, impermanence, longing, regret, wishing, waiting, aging, the sense of everything slipping away. I simultaneously want to hold on to all of it forever and also just burn it all down. So yeah, a group would be good.

If you’re a former expat (what I call a repat) then you might feel great reading all that because you get it and you see that I get it and it makes you feel less alone and okay. If you’re not a repat, then you probably think I’m insane and need some help. Fret not. I’m okay, that’s just how repat life is,  and tomorrow is a new day.

How is life for you lately? Are you feeling exhausted and overwhelmed? Do you sometimes just need a good cry?

(Photo via Shop Style/Pinterest)

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Now the other thing I'm disappointed with since repatriating is INTERNET. Our Swisscom internet/tv/phone bundle was SO fast and so affordable. I miss it. Any tips for me there? Thank you for reading my mobile phone saga, and definitely check out Visible and get your $200 MasterCard gift card and $20 off. You won't regret it!

(Image via Visible/Instagram)

Have you been to the Beaches at Normandy? As an American studying in France, that was one of the most memorable day trips we took during my semester abroad. The beaches are startlingly beautiful, and quiet, with memorials and old Nazi bunkers still standing. It was profound and sobering to stand there and think of the horrors of WWII. So much respect and gratitude to those, and all, in the armed services. I can't believe it's already Memorial Day Weekend. For those of you not in the US, this is a day of remembrance for service members who have passed away. My dad served in the US Navy during Vietnam, so we always go out to visit his grave on Memorial Day.

Aside from that, I am going to get a new podcast episode up Sunday, go for a pedicure, have a Mama-Coco afternoon, and get out this book and get started ahead of summer vacation! And, here are some interesting, fun and charming links for your weekend.

Warning: You'll never quite be the same after watching this music video.

Coco is old enough for my favorite childhood road trip staple! :)

How to find a lost cat. (Very cool!)

I just ordered this oil sunscreen and I can't wait for it to arrive! One reviewer says it's better than body lotion during the summer. Yassss.

Did you already listen?!

Prescribing play. (And boredom, in case you missed it)

Theo's favorite board game as of late.

Infinite cuteness.

So intense, imaginative and colorful. I'm swooning!

Maybe this will end the sunscreen battle with Coco? ;)

I hope your weekend is lovely and filled with remembrance of those you're missing, particularly former service members. See you back here next week!

(Photo of Omaha Beach, Normandy via Mark Wesley)

One of the biggest takeaways from my Montessori training course way back in 2004-05 was the concept of benign neglect. Benign neglect describes the moment when we are just hands-off enough to give our children the space, time and freedom necessary for exploration, curiosity and learning -  without it being unsafe in any way. Our lecturer gave an example of a little baby she had seen on the bus several days prior. The baby's mom was sitting with her baby on her lap, deep in thought staring out the window, and while the mother zoned out, her baby leaned forward and starting mouthing the pole just in front of their seat. Germophobes might not consider this benign neglect, but a baby's way of understanding the world is to put things in their mouth, something adults are always stopping them from doing. Most of the time, this is necessary and protects the child from choking or other harm. But in this case, without the mom's interference, the baby was able to explore and learn and it probably did not result in any harm later. Make sense?

For the last two or three months, I have had so many moms at work, or school pick-up, or at the park ask me which camps and activities we've signed our kids up for this summer. Without fail they all gasp when I reply that we haven't signed them up for any! Even other couples who are both in education and therefore are both home all summer long are amazed that we don't have our kids fully booked. "Everything is filling up!" they say, "August will be smoky and you don't want to be stuck at home entertaining your kids!" is another popular one. "Kids get so bored in the summer - save yourself!" is another common refrain.

Usually I keep my mouth shut, because I don't want to be that "Montessori mom" who deprives her children in other people's eyes, but finally I just said to a mom last week that I want my kids to be bored in the summer. She looked a little concerned, so I went on to explain that children need to have huge chunks of unstructured, unscheduled time during which adults are not facilitating and dictating their every move, or activity, or idea. This boredom is the only way a child human being can learn to listen to the whispers of intrinsic motivation inside their own brain and soul and begin to discover their own interests. Research on Theta brainwaves, the state that our minds enter into when we're meditating, or in flow, shows that children from 0-7 are almost constantly in a Theta state in their brains. That means this is the most powerful time in one's life to discover and learn and get to know oneself, a task made impossible by too much adult interference and direction.

In the photo above, J had taken Coco and Theo on a hike and set up the hammock. He lay in the hammock and read a book while Coco and Theo found themselves with nothing to do. As frequent recipients of benign neglect, they got down to business without prompting and concocted a game of sticks and twigs that, while incomprehensible to any adult within earshot, was riveting and compelling to them. They focused their full attention on their game and had a great time for nearly an hour until it was time to go and J snapped this photo.

In the article, "Why Free Play is the Best Summer School," from the June 2014 issue of The Atlantic, author Jessica Lahey writes,

Unscheduled, unsupervised, playtime is one of the most valuable educational opportunities we give our children. It is fertile ground; the place where children strengthen social bonds, build emotional maturity, develop cognitive skills, and shore up their physical health.

I could not agree more. In interviews, David Lynch often credits his early childhood in Spokane, which was filled with wandering around the Ponderosas, daydreaming, as a huge source of his creativity. And he has devoted himself to transcendental meditation, which mimics the Theta brain state of early childhood, boosting creativity and imagination. This is not a coincidence.

It's not always easy to provide this beneficial boredom for children. Sometimes on the weekends, once J and I are up and have turned off the television and confiscated the iPad (parents have got to sleep, you know?!;) Coco and Theo will whine and moan and gripe that they have nothing to do. We acknowledge that it's true that they have nothing to do and then suggest that they find something to do. Sometimes the whining goes on for a long time. It feels like forever because it's hard to listen to and really annoying. But we stay the course! It's a matter of staying consistent and forcing them to push through the boredom and into flow. They find flow in drawing and clay, puttering around the garden, Legos, and blocks. Theo is a huge fan of walking around the backyard singing and looking up at the trees. Coco gets completely absorbed in dollhouse play. And once, when she was a baby, she played with a single blade of grass with such intensity and focus for over half an hour.

This is not to say that we don't do things together, like bake cookies, or watch movies, or dye Easter eggs with our kids. We do. In those activities, we are the adults in charge, facilitating and directing our children. But I definitely do not see it as my job to do those things all the time, or to keep my children entertained. Quite the opposite! This summer, my children will be bored, and it will be good for them.

What's your approach to summer - free play and boredom, or scheduled and planned-out activities? Why do you do summer the way you do?

I have this gorgeous photo of Zurich as the wallpaper on my monitors at work. My two favorite parts about it are the archway in the pink building, lower right, that I've walked through so many times. And the little tiny dock on the river in front of the large salmon colored building on the opposite bank, more or less in the center of the photo. The other day, my friend Kate posted a photo in her stories taken from that dock, showing the church towers from which this photo was taken. It made me laugh to think that I was up in the church tower waving down to her since I’ve grown so accustomed to looking at this view every day. ;) Lately I've been missing Zurich terribly. I'm enjoying Spokane and springtime and lilacs (and the lack of hayfever!) but I still miss Zurich. I really did leave my heart there.

Do you have any big plans this weekend? An outdoor pizza party we were invited to has been rescheduled due to the insane rainstorm that came through yesterday. I have never seen rain like that in the Northwest! It was on the same level as rains that caused flash flooding the summer I was in Maryland finishing up my Masters before I moved to Switzerland the first time. So, in the absence of a pizza party, I think we're going to clean all day tomorrow and make Pavlova and do a movie night!

I hope you have a brilliant weekend, and here are some links for you.

Please vote for Swiss Lark in this blog contest! And thank you to whoever nominated me. :)

A comical look at the flooding down the hill from our house. Ha!! (I love it when I see the Spokane Boat Car;)

The perfect rainy weekend recipe.

I tried this exfoliating treatment mask last night and loved it! More in my Insta stories.

Such sad news for the climbing world, and Spokane.

Although houseplants grow and require care, they are neither as demanding nor as costly as pets or children.

Motherhood. (Read her original caption - link might transport you to the middle of the comments:)

This.

I kinda think we might need to do this...

LOL!

See you back here next week!

but you also probably over-share a teensy bit less. Also you probably have slightly better taste in music. To know what you narrowly escaped on either side, embark on this sensory reproduction of the life of Gen X and read true millennial Caity Weaver's experience of living in 1994.

As much as I do not like being called a Millennial (let alone a really old Millennial), I am totally fine with what the New York Times dubs an Xennial. They explain that "Like water on the rock," life has worn us Xennials down. We're not fully mired in existential angst like the Gen-Xers, but this also isn't our first rodeo. Caustic and ironic both sound good to me! As does being "a smidge more practical and a smidge less idealistic." I would say I "over-share a teensy bit less" and "have slightly better taste in music." Key word being slightly. We'll get to that;)

I know so many people born in 1978 and 1979 who are so boastful and proud of not being Millennials. But I'm over here writing my blog and doing tons of Instagram stories, and saying things like "totes" and I cannot deny that I am really, unabashedly in love with many a Justin Bieber (and Katy Perry) song. So how can I deny that I am an Xennial - or just a really old Millennial?! Oof.

Since posting the photo of my computer screen (seems like more of a Gen-X move than Millennial move to take a photo of a screen, don't you think?) on my Instagram stories (definitely a Millennial move!) I got a bunch of DMs from proud friends who scored as Gen-X adjacent, not Xennial. I felt a tinge of jealousy. I mean, come on! I had the cK one ad I had torn from a magazine hanging on my bedroom wall in the 90s. I actually still have that Sony phone that was used in the first photo of the quiz! I had The Bangles "Eternal Flame" on a cassingle, and I still love Temple of the Dog. I went to Lollapalooza for goodness sake!

Naturally, I did what any anxiety-ridden Millennial would do, and I went back and re-took the quiz, changing the one answer that I was on the fence about. Did they mean my parent's and my childhood best friend's current phone numbers? Or, did they mean do I remember my childhood best friend's number from childhood?! Because I do remember Katie and Sinead's childhood numbers. I'm pretty sure Kate's parents (she gave up Katie after college;) still have that number. If they still have a landline, which maybe they do - or don't. Hmmm, they did move a couple years ago...But! The point is that that one answer pushed me into Gen-X Adjacent territory and I was free to wave the Gen-X flag loud and proud!

Except that I wasn't. Because I do not, and never did, have the number for Poison Control memorized. Does remembering Mr. Yuck stickers count?! Can you young Millennials remember those?! Take a look - and while you're there, notice how easy that Poison Control number is. Also, apparently it's Mr. Yuk (no c) and should I be concerned that we're not using these with our own kids?! Hashtag Xennial.

Sigh. There's no denying that I really am just an old Millennial. Have you taken the quiz? Share your results in the comments below. And by all means, feel free to boast and brag. I'll console myself by double-screening, doing Instagram stories in front of Seinfeld on Hulu later. I would call them Seinfeld re-runs except I never saw the first run! It's all new to me. LOL! Like I said to my sister at the very beginning, the struggle is real.

At the Wilson Carnival, Theo won a fish! Well, he didn’t really win a fish, but he tried so hard - twice! - to win a fish that a girl who did win a fish and felt sorry for him gave him her fish. (Later I learned that was a very smart move on her part, but for the moment, we were so excited to have a new fish!) We got that fish home, aptly named “Goldie” by Theo, and for the first couple of nights, put him in a big wide water pitcher. He seemed happy enough and the kids fed him a little pinch of the goldfish food he had come with each morning. Friends assured me that having a filtered tank was a must given the level of muck and yuck and goldfish produce, and they were right! So the kids and I took off to Petco one day and got a little tiny tank. We also bought more goldfish food; and a little net for catching the fish; and gravel for the bottom; and a rock decoration thingy with fake plants attached. And by the time we had gotten out of there, we had spent way more money than seems reasonable on a two-inch fish. But, sigh. Such is life.

No sooner did we get Goldie into his (her? Coco was convinced Goldie was a girl) tank than Goldie died. Okay, it took about a day, during which Goldie was acting very strange and basically just sitting on the bottom of the tank. The day she died, we found her sucked up against the filter, not moving. I had noticed that her skin looked fuzzy the day before. It seemed odd for her skin to be fuzzy and I knew she was going south, but I hoped for the best anyway. It did not end well. Rather than replace her before the kids could notice, J and I opted to embrace the teachable moment. Coco was excited about burying or flushing her and was not one bit phased. The lesson for her was to be compassionate and sympathetic toward Theo, who was crestfallen. Theo wept and cried and even worried that perhaps Goldie had died because he had given her/him too much food. What?! Never mind, I just let that go in the moment and hugged him. He would burst into tears at random moments and literally sob for a few seconds. It was at once touching, endearing, and so so sad to see him so upset.

Following Goldie’s watery burial down the toilet, I replaced all the water in the tank and left it to filter for a few days before Coco and I went to get more fish last weekend. Can I just take a moment to say that the people who work in Petco are ridiculously knowledgeable and passionate about fish? We decided against a betta (they just sit there) and also against another goldfish (they get humongous and produce way too much yuck) and we got a couple of guppies instead! Guppies are darling little fish who swim about actively and are brightly colored and don’t get any larger than an inch or two. Theo named his guppy Seashell and Coco named hers Violet. Guppies don’t produce a ton of gunk, which makes them easy to care for, and best of all, they eat goldfish food. At that point, we had a big container of goldfish food of which we had only used a pinch or two. Perfect!

Except that Seashell and Violet died too! They went to same way Goldie did. It took about two days, starting first with fuzzy skin, then acting weird and hanging out at the bottom of the tank. Then we found them both sucked up against the filter intake this morning. Theo and Coco were a little bummed out, but then went about their usual games. “I guess we can just get a dog now!” chirped Theo as he ran off to the basement to play camping. But I was ticked off. What a ripoff! I rifled through the car console and house looking for the receipt for the tank and all the accoutrements, but I never found it. I put the tank with the dead fish down in the utility sink and decided that this time we’ll bury them after school in the backyard.

I honestly don’t know what to do. Should I buy more guppies and ask the Petco people what’s wrong with the tank set up? Or just go back in there, receipt be damned, and get my money back and forget the idea of having a pet for now? Or should we just fill the tank with water, but not have any fish? During the days between Goldie and the guppies, I noticed that it’s actually pretty cute and decorative all on its own.

I consoled Theo when he was distraught over Goldie by telling him all about my own Goldie. When I was in kindergarten, I also won a goldfish (or maybe was given one) at the Wilson carnival! My Goldie also only lived for two or three days. I remember feeding Goldie and then using a spoon to stir her round and round and round in her fish bowl! Watching her spin around in the whirlpool I created never got old. I can only imagine how miserable life was for my Goldie. Honestly, it was probably a relief for her when she passed on.

There was just one last thing I was curious about - how had Theo managed “to pet” his own Goldie? I overheard him telling Coco about Goldie’s slippery skin and how he missed petting her. Oh dear! But, in the end, considering Seashell and Violet went the same way, I think we can rest assured it was not Theo’s fault.

Have you had fish die on you? Any secrets or insights to share? Please let me know in the comments below.