Misheru

One week from tomorrow, I’ll be heading out for a month of traveling again. Although we decided against traveling this year, I find that I need a rest from the dust and heat of the Arizona dry season (May-June) in order to stay sane. I also call it “Marital Health 101.” Regardless, I will spend a few weeks with my parents, and a few weeks with an array of childhood friends in the cooler northern climate.

I took the picture above in 2004 while traveling with Benjamin. It’s the Colorado River as it winds through the Grand Canyon as the final rays of the setting sun hit the canyon wall. It was one of the most breathtaking views I’ve ever seen, and it was taken the first day of a 30-day trip through Arizona, Utah, Idaho, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, California and Nevada. That trip was considerably more expensive than my upcoming trip should be (fingers crossed!) as I plan to camp out or crash at people’s houses most of this trip, but it shares one thing in common: I needed to take it.

As a new mom with Ben freshly turned two, I set out in August 2004 with my heart in my mouth. That trip started research for a book I’m still working on, and it also started this website in earnest. I learned about wireless computer access, a skill that later got me promoted into technical projects at work, and how to deal with a toddler for multiple days on end, but most of all the trip reassured me that I would still get to travel and see the world. Being a parent takes a lot of sacrifices, and I feared that my dream of traveling was over when Ben was born. The reality was that Ben and I had a wonderful time and I still remember taking him to a playground in Vancouver, riding the ferry to Victoria, walking the boardwalk in Californa and singing far too many songs featuring Elmo along the way. Ben learned a lot too — he learned how to poop in the woods that trip, and that too many Elmo songs makes mommy a little mental. I hope that my kids remember my “walkabouts” as fondly as I do.

This time, one thing is different — Marti gets a special trip of his very own, as he heads to Boston for an expenses-paid conference, courtesy of the U of A. They’ve tried to send him to conferences for several years now, and finally he’s taking them up on it. So while I herd kids into a drafty tent, Marti will be eating at Legal Seafoods and enjoying the beautiful history of Boston’s Back Bay.

That’s okay. I want one more photo of the Grand Canyon, and I plan to stop at more national parks along the way. Our trips truly reflect our personalities, with Marti sipping coffee and eating scones while I plan for a shower facility every two days.

Onward to that canyon sunset, friends.

I thought I would go ahead and post some recent pictures on my blog. I keep putting pictures up on social networking sites like Facebook and Orkut, and I forget that the point of this blog was for grandparents and such to get a little insight on the kids’ growth spurts (it is also an outlet for me and my attempts at humor, of course). Anyway, before I post kid pics, I want to put up these pictures. I recently noticed that, in my hurry to take care of everyone else, I haven’t been taking care of myself. Setting up a profile picture was pretty eye-opening, so here’s the before picture, the “with my 8-year-old make-up” picture, and a picture of me with new make-up and a haircut.

A bit scary, really, that a trim and some make-up from this century would make such a difference. I’ve never been one to wear a lot of make-up, but just a little bit here and there does make me look less like a crack addict.

Next are some pics of Maya and Ben. I have a really long birthday post for her, but I’ve been struggling with the video of her Happy Birthday song, so, here it is a week after her second birthday, and there is still no post. *sigh* But, you’ll all be glad in the end, because I’m editing out that part where the camera slipped and all you can see is my chest. Marti swears he didn’t do that on purpose, and I’m sure we all believe him, don’t we? Umm Hmmmm…

You can see Maya giving Ben a “look” in that first picture, like, “Um, sorry? These are mine.” But, they finally play nicely with her Dora train set, and Maya shows off her new necklace in the last photo. That necklace lasted, oh, about 24 hours. Ah well.

Anyway, I should have a full birthday post up soon. Until then, my narcissistic photo ops and kid pics can be enjoyed by all.

My favorite part of this video, after the clapping? Ben strolling by in his Lightning McQueen undies at the end. He’ll never forgive me for that.

I meant to add these pictures to the post Hey, Little Sister but they languished on the camera instead. Here they are, with Maya letting it slip how she feels about this before she sees the camera comes out:

I’ve been lucky; for the most part, my kids get along okay. That’s not to say that they don’t fight, because they do, and their fighting has worsened as of late. But they have their tender moments; Maya pats Ben when he’s sad, and I saw Ben go over and “kiss it better” when I told Maya she couldn’t have something she wanted. It’s surprising, these bursts of tenderness, and somewhat amazing as well. Once when they were driving each other crazy, I made Ben move to the other side of the car. He immediately began to protest, and I said, in an exasperated tone, “Why do you want to sit next to her if she’s bothering you?” Marti replied, “Because they’re siblings.”

A few days ago, I noticed Ben had taped something to his door, about at Maya’s eye level, but I didn’t pay much attention. Finally I decided to crouch down and have a look, and this is what I saw:

I had noticed he was closing the door to his room more frequently — it sticks, so Maya can’t push it open — but I didn’t realize he had made, and then cut, and then taped a keep out sign on his door especially for Maya.

It was unbelievably cute.

Even though it was rotten. Because I was a little sister once, too, and I know the glory of a big brother’s room. My big brother had lots of trophies, and they were shiny, and I loved to stroke their shininess. Except that my brother is seriously OCD, and whenever he came home, he checked for fingerprints. Ben is following a long tradition of big brotherness; he even has Hulk boxing gloves. My brother didn’t have gloves, but he did have an Incredible Hulk doll (sorry, action figure) that could be stretched to unbelievable proportions (probably made from some kind of material since outlawed for safety, I’m sure) and a miniature shark with a jaw that moved up and down, complete with rows of sharp teeth. I loved those toys, which sat, like the trophies, in very particular spots. My brother knew if I had touched them, no matter how careful I was, and there was a lot of yelling involved when he came home from school and found his shark .01 cm to the left of where he left it. And, believe it or not, he would move it .01 cm back, back to where it should be, that secret place where the shark must always live. I’m 32 and my brother 39 this year; he hasn’t changed much, I have to say, except that now he has a wife to drive crazy, too.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at Ben and Maya’s relationship with each other. After all, my brother taught me boxing by making me stand still while he punched me, but I still remember sobbing in my room while he got a spanking in his room next door. I guess that’s just the way siblings work — I’ll always be a little sister in my mind.

Just like Maya.