Tag Archives: pool

Scenes from Saturday + Stay Cool in the Pool

We are trying something different. We are doing nothing. Typically our vacations often end up with an itinerary longer than the menu at a Cheesecake Factory. Not this time.

We made a conscious decision to find a place to just chill and truly take a break. Our itinerary did not need to be extensively researched nor be jam packed. There would be no pressure to be efficient or fulfill a sightseeing checklist. The only imperative would be to go somewhere new and just hang out.

You only get so many summers with your kids. We can see the finish line with Cecilia, so we took away Michelle’s laptop, took away the power tools, took away the washing machine, and headed to the Dominican Republic for a land cruise and hang out at a resort for a few days.

That’s it. Get up. Go to the buffet. Go the pool. Go to the beach. Read a book. Call it a day. A successful day.

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Scenes from Saturday + Sweat & Old Couches

[If you don’t subscribe to the book newsletter, a quick update on the next book] It is the dog days of summer and I am in the dog days of writing the next book. I’m approaching half way. If I look over my shoulder, I can no longer see the bright and exciting beginning. If I look ahead, it’s still a bit dark and mysterious. How are you going to get out this one, Max? The only way to find out is to keep going. Get on that treadmill and get some words down each day.

When that happens? Happiness and light. But it does have a darker side. Chasing happiness, even just through writing, can be exhausting. This time around I’m trying instead to focus on being grateful.

G.K. Chesterton said, “I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought and gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.”

Unlike happiness, which is more a (fleeting) feeling, gratitude, I think, can be cultivated as a practice. It is a verb, something you do. Happiness is worth acknowledging, but gratitude is worth practicing.

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Scenes from Saturday + Crabs & Fake Sunsets

They are no longer little kids. I’m not sure why that occurred to me this week. Maybe it the birthday party for a friend. Or seeing some kids we hadn’t seen in a long time. Or revisiting places we hadn’t been in years. Something had me thinking about age, and time, and growing up. Or not growing up.

I came downstairs one morning and Cecilia, who is now taller than Michelle and certainly looks like an eighth grader, was happily watching a Disney show and I realized she looked bigger and older, but might not actually be bigger and more mature. Then I realized I was supposed to be older and confident and know what I was doing. But did I? Of course not.

There are many times I still feel like a insecure, nervous eighth grader. We all do. We all have a little imposter syndrome, no matter how young or old, and are full of doubts and concerns.

Sorry, girls, that feeling is not going away at 15, or 25, 45, or 75. It’s a universal part of the human experience. You gotta do your best to see through the posturing and be there for your friends and family. That’s one thing I’m confident about.

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Scenes from Saturday + Mowing & Growing

We are back from our West Coast vacation. We survived our one-day Disneyland whirlwind. It was a good age to take them.

I did my best to try to take it all in. That isn’t always easy for me. I like a to-do list. I like having a plan. I like feeling productive. Sometimes that drive comes at the cost of actually experiencing the thing I am so eager to check off my list. So I tried to say yes more this vacation and I tried not to get too tied up in the planning.

It wasn’t always easy. That water can be cold. Or the beach sand too… sandy. Or the thought of paying for another bowl of mac ‘n cheese too much. But I tried because (as just about everyone who hasn’t seen Cece in awhile comments on) they are growing older. Really fast.

So  I tried to say yes while they are still asking and while I still can because one day soon they won’t ask Dad to jump in the hotel pool or body surf that wave with them.

They will probably still ask me for mac ‘n cheese however.

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Scenes from Saturday + Pool & Peroni

I made good on a four year promise this week when I took Cecilia to Six Flags as part of her twelfth birthday. Be very careful what you casually say when they are eight. Kids remember everything.

We planned, we plotted, we watched the weather, we figured out the best routes and the best deals. And things mostly worked out. We had a great day. I hope we had a memorable day but I don’t really get to choose.

Despite all the planning and stress, what I’ve heard her mention most to others afterward wasn’t the coasters or wild rides but the M&M design on the park’s entrance steps, the various tattoos on the people in line, the frappuccino she got at Starbucks on the way, and the Nutella pizza the restaurant had on the menu.

We can stress about perfect summer vacations or special birthdays but mostly its the little ordinary moments that stick. Big or little, I’m happy she will at least remember who else was there with her.

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Scenes from Saturday + Dough & Debit Cards

When I was growing up, 90% of my time and energy was spent on sports. The other ten percent was used up with SimCity strategies and reading sci-fi novels. But mostly it was sports. Any sport.

The girls have zero interest in sports, at least right now. Not even if it involves glitter. And that’s fine with me.

My life is better and richer now with musicals, bubblegum pop, trombone, dance recitals, and crafts.

Being a parent isn’t easy but a lot of it is common sense. Don’t be an idiot. Don’t try to give them your childhood. Don’t close your mind. Adjust.

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Scenes from Saturday + Empty City

The kids had winter break this week. We stayed put and I hit a pandemic wall. Not the first in the past year. Turns out an introvert who doesn’t mind going days without speaking to other humans has limits. I tried to fight it. Being tired is easy. Being a cynic is easy. Caring is much harder. Hoping is harder.

Who knows how this past year will effect the kids long term? Maybe they shrug it off. Maybe it’s a weird touchstone moment they share at parties. I do know it’s not fair to let my experiences deprive them of any hope they need to be happy. So I put on my Dad pants, vacuumed up my pity, stayed off the internet, and tried to stay positive.

Parenting is not easy. It takes a certain courage. The courage to wake up in the morning and keep up the good cheer even if you’re not feeling it. The courage to believe that making a better world is possible and worth it.

Parenting is hard. But it’s worth it. Continue Reading