Boys in the woods


We spent the whole morning trekking through Camp Long, a lush beautiful forest in West Seattle and fortunately, a few minutes from our house.


Seattle’s summer is so short and for many months of the year, we’re trapped inside our dens because it’s too cold, too wet, too rainy, mommy doesn’t like what the weather does to her hair so here we are at the McDonald’s playland.  Free wifi!



Nathan led some mediation exercises.  Close your eyes and no, mommy, I didn’t just fart, that was TJ.


There was a climbing rock and a smaller rock that my kids wanted to attempt without realizing that their mother is the type of person who sees these structures and only thinks of THE WORST THINGS POSSIBLE.  Brain injuries!  Broken arms!  Having put both in diapers because they fell down and suffered brain trauma because no one listened to mommy even though she was yelling, “GET DOWN! GET DOWN!”


A keeper of my heart, reason for my gray hair.


My kids don’t realize that when I tell them, “Run around some more!  Try to do it faster this time!”  I’m not being some hardcore gymnastics coach who only wants gold medals, I want them to go to sleep and give me some time to myself and there’s no better way than getting them on their feet to go, go, go.


Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, “The Tale of the Fart Brothers.”  They spend eternity looking for new members.  Spooky!


Happy 4th of July!

It’s July 4th! Or Indepants Day, the holiday only I celebrate because no one else has signed on to this catchphrase so I sit alone, eating watermelon and saying the cleverest name to myself. I know how to party.


So do my boys, who found ways to make poop jokes at the “snake bomb.”



Freedom is running with your brother until your mom calls you back to the other end of the parking lot, where there are more sparklers to light and all the time in the world for a fart joke.

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