Letter to Self

A Letter to Myself, Eleven Years Younger

Dear Jen,

I thought you might like to hear from me, eleven years down the road. You are about to set off on a journey that will consume the next decade-plus of your life. You are nervous...and charmingly clueless...about what lies ahead.

People have told you that what you are about to face will be challenging. Nigh unto impossible. They have told you that your marriage will suffer. That your children will suffer. That your mental health will suffer. That your husband will be exhausted and perpetually stressed. That your bank account will be empty and that your cars will run on vapor.

You have heard countless stories--and perhaps a bit of legend--about the experiences of others who have undergone a similar journey. A lot of the stories aren't pretty.

Unfortunately, many of those negative predictions have some basis in reality, and many of those stories are grounded in truth.

You've also encountered some harsh judgements and assumptions from others who don't really understand the journey, or the choices you've made along the way, and it's been frustrating.

But I am here to tell you, once and for all: You can do it.

I won't go into specifics, and I won't give advice, but I will simply say this:

It will be hard. Challenging. But not impossible. There will be days when you just survive. There will be moments when you dream of being somewhere--anywhere--else. You will be alone so very much. And there will be times when you will be really quite angry.

But those are just days and moments in time. They will pass. As the weeks and months and years roll by, you will begin to discover the beauty in this journey that will stretch, tutor, and define you.

Your abilities will grow. You will find inner strength that you didn't know you had. You will become independent--almost too independent. You will discover many personal weaknesses and slowly begin to chip away at them. You will begin to understand the meaning and value of sacrifice and perseverance. Your view of the world and of many things in it will change or expand in so many ways. Your faith will become much more personal...and practical.

You will live in some fabulous locations. You will love experiencing each one's full flavor. When you leave each city and each "stage" of this journey, you will mourn, for you will be leaving your home.

You will find a wide array of friends (Oh, the wonderful friends you will have!) who will be unceasing sources of support, wisdom, example, and humor. Each of those friends will occupy a space in your heart.

You will learn to live with unpredictability and find out how hard a person can work (and how much one can sweat!) in a single 24-hour period. You will gain a whole lot of practical knowledge. And a few years down the road, you will learn just how far a person can go on little to no sleep.

You will watch your husband transform into an amazing encyclopedia of knowledge and a confident "machine" of highly-trained abilities. He will be constantly exhausted, yes, but he will rarely complain. When he is home, he will always be willing to help with the dishes, or read to a toddler, or mow the lawn with a baby on his back. In short, he will be remarkable.

Your little Emma, only a few months old, will grow into a lovely young woman. She will be so good in so many ways, as will her siblings that will follow. Your children will not suffer; they will be loved, adored, and cherished. Even on the days that they drive you bonkers.

I will say it one more time: You can do it. You will do it--one hour, one day at a time. It will eventually come to an end, and you will sit back, totally worn out, and shake your head and marvel at what you've just done.

And then you will wonder: Now what?

Always,

Jen

Jedi Training Academy

"Friend" birthday parties happen every other year around here.

With our impending move, we decided to have Nathan's a bit early.

Star Wars it was. The backyard it happened. Brian piped Star Wars music into the backyard.

This mama made nine (yes, nine!) Jedi robes.

We also pre-made light sabers. (Read: Dollar store pool noodles, cut in half, wrapped with electric & duct tape.)

For the young Jedis, we set up an obstacle course for Jedi training purposes.

The party wouldn't have been complete without some Yoda Soda or Galactic Pizza.

Given my previous record of epic cake FAIL, I went for cupcakes, laid out in a row like light sabers.

The highlight of the party: A surprise appearance by Darth Vader.

Each young Jedi-in-training got a chance to fight Vader on the trampoline. Each young Jedi conquered the task. (Sidenote: Until Vader appeared, the young Jedis were running amuck, beating each other with light sabers. When he appeared, the boys stopped still. They lined up. They watched and waited patiently for their turn to fight Vader. And they cheered on their fellow Jedis by reminding them to "just use the Force!")

The Jedis continued to follow and beat upon poor Vader for some time.

Darth Vader revealed. S/he earned five bucks for playing the part.

My amazing helper. Brian was called back to the hospital, and Emma stepped up to the plate.

Madeline, the young Padewan.

Brian drew this picture of Yoda for "Pin the Light Saber on Yoda." (Sidenote: I wish I had kept track of all the versions of "Pin the ____ on ____" we've had over the years.)

The results:

The kids also played Light Saber Tag and Darth Darth Vader. The pinata didn't quite survive. It was knocked down by a stray light saber early in the party.

And a little sidewalk art:

I knew the party was a success when I saw one of the boys wearing his Jedi robe to school on Monday, and when another parent told me that her son slept in his robe, refusing to take it off.

A successful party it was.

Craft Bombs: A Creation

Remember these?

The following pictures show the result of one of Clara's craft bombs.

Back story: Clara recently took her favorite stuffed animal, "Doggie," to school for Share Day.

But of course, Doggie had to be "ready" for his foray into academic life.

She made him this backpack, complete with shoulder straps--now broken.

Inside the backpack were his school supplies. (Mini-erasers. I have no idea where she found them.)

Inside the backpack she placed Doggie's textbooks...

...and Doggie's notebooks...

...and his folders.

She didn't forget the papers inside the folders: Doggie's homework planner, homework assignments, and his original story.

Something tells me that Doggie was an exceptional student.

Teachers

Another year of school has come and gone.

The little neighborhood elementary school that my kids attended here in MN was exceptional. The community spirit is strong. People in the neighborhood invest a lot of resources into this school. And above all, the staff of teachers is just incredible.

Here is Emma with her fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. P., who is retiring. Yesterday Mrs. P. had the entire class of 28 students over to her home for a lengthy end-of-year party.

Mrs. P. was absolutely amazing. She knew how to nurture and teach each individual child. She challenged her students, Emma included. She loved her students, and she was fun. She is now Emma's all-time favorite teacher (although I think there are a few others that could be in this category).

Here is Clara with her third-grade teacher, Mrs. M. From the moment I met Mrs. M., I knew Clara would have an incredible year. Mrs. M.'s enthusiasm for learning is contagious. She has amazing energy and creativity. I am convinced she spends 80 hours per week on her job. She reads every sentence that her students write. She writes comments on every assignment. She is thorough. And although she runs her classroom with an iron fist, her students have no idea. She is fun and ingenious in her leadership. She is just...phenomenal.

Can I just mention Mrs. M.'s enthusiasm one more time? When my kids returned to school two days late from winter break, I watched Mrs. M. stop her classroom discussion, dash over to Clara with an exuberant greeting, and give Clara a huge hug. Then she hugged me.

I need to record one more thing about Mrs. M.: On a Friday night in April, Clara and her two best MN friends, Lily and Lauren, had a sleepover at Lily's house. They planned their sleepover for two weeks in advance. They wrote a dinner invitation to Mrs. M. and asked her to come for dinner and a performance. I carefully told Clara that her teacher probably wouldn't be able to come on a Friday night. I told her that her teacher was entitled to have a night off.

But Mrs. M. came to the dinner. The girls threw flower petals across the sidewalk and wrote welcome signs and made confetti for the table. Their beloved teacher came to see them and had a special hour with them. They (and I) will never forget it. Afterwards, Mrs. M. wrote an acrostic poem about each of them and mailed it to them as a thank you.

Finally, Nathan had Mr. C. for his kindergarten teacher.

It is unusual to have a male kindergarten teacher, but Mr. C. was remarkable. He is mellow and incredibly patient. Above all, he totally understands wiggly little boys, and I am grateful for that. Nathan had a great kindergarten experience.

After two years of violin lessons, Emma finally had her first recital. Here she is with her excellent teacher, Ewa B. (pronounced "Ay-va"--she's Polish).

And the girls had another piano recital. Here is their teacher, Susan S., whom we will miss greatly.

The end-of-year kindergarten party. Isaac and Madeline, in the back left corner, fit right in with the rest of the class.

The kindergarten graduate.

1st grade, here he comes.

All He Wants For...

...the 4th of July (?):

Little Air Bear

My sweet little niece Erin, who turns three in a few weeks, has recently finished a grueling course of treatment for Acute Myeloid Leukemia. Erin's mom--my sister-in-law Jill--is working hard to raise awareness of childhood cancer and also to raise money for childhood cancer research. Please check out her blog here to see what she's up to.

Modern Road Trip

When I was a kid, my family went on lots of road trips.

For my car entertainment, I packed books. Barbie fashion plates. My Walkman and a few tapes. A journal and pen. And I spent most of the time staring out the window.

Last weekend on our trip to Duluth, at one point I noticed the car was uncommonly quiet. I turned around and this is what I observed:

Emma listening to her iPod and playing on the iPad. (In fairness to Emma, she gets carsick while reading in the car.)

Nathan playing games on my iPhone.

Isaac playing on the Leapster.

Madeline watching a movie on the portable DVD player.

The laptop computer at my feet, which--when I was driving--Brian used to crunch numbers for his latest research project at work.

Brian checking his email. Yes, he is behind the wheel--

--but we spent an hour in a literal standstill.

Only Clara and I embraced the old school style of road trips, with a good book in hand.

Is anyone else's car this plugged in during road trips?

Duluth

When we moved to Minnesota last summer, I was quite surprised to hear that Duluth is a fabulous tourist attraction. We decided that we should visit for a weekend during our year here.

But winter came and stayed for a while, so we waited until Memorial Day weekend to make the two-hour trek northward.

Duluth sits on Lake Superior and is an important waterway for industry in the region. Did you know that Lake Superior holds 10% of the world's freshwater? Neither did I.

We started out at Enger Tower Park, where we could look out over the lake and city.

Madeline had to pick her dandelions, of course.

We then went down to Canal Park. We walked the pier. This small lighthouse sat at the far end of the pier.

Emma and I in front of Duluth's aerial bridge. We enjoyed watching this bridge in actin as a large cargo ship journeyed through the canal. Of the six pictures in our hotel room, all of them had a picture of this bridge--as did every other photograph we saw of the city. Kind of funny.

The kids skipped stones along the shore. Brian and I sat on a big rock and froze while we watched them. It was c-o-l-d.

We visited a small maritime museum next to Canal Park.

We toured a fabulous railroad museum. It was amazing--in part because of trains like the next two. These are huge snow plow trains. These blurry pictures do not do justice to their size or amazingness.

We were convinced that we should take a ride on an old-time train. The ad promised "a scenic ride up the Lester River."

This picture of Clara about sums up the ride for all of us:

It was the low point in an otherwise great mini-vacation. For two hours, we were subjected to a 20 mph train ride along the main drag through town, where the most interesting thing we saw was lots of garbage in people's backyards.

Thankfully, we brought along Leapster, which pacified Isaac for a chunk of the ride.

We drove an hour north, through Two Harbors--a quaint little town--and visited this amazing lighthouse, Split Rock Lighthouse.

The lighthouse had a breathtaking view of Lake Superior.

A picture of the lighthouse from a few miles away. There were no roads to the area when this lighthouse was built and for some time afterward, so all building materials and supplies--including wares for the lighthouse keeper--were brought by boat and lifted up the cliff with a hoisting system.

On the way back from the lighthouse, we stopped at Gooseberry Falls State Park. This stunning park has several large waterfalls and lots of trails for hiking.

On our last morning in Duluth, we took the younger kids to the Children's Museum while Brian and I, along with Emma and Clara, took turns touring the historic Glensheen Mansion. It is a beautiful, well-preserved home on the shore of Lake Superior. In today's dollars, the house alone would cost $30 million to rebuild.

Clara in front of the carriage house:

Emma in the gardens at the rear of the estate.

We also fit in some time at the hotel's indoor pool, which the kids loved. All in all, it was a delightful weekend excursion, and I can now proudly say that I have seen Duluth. :)