Heroes of Cosplay and my Banshee...

I like watching the SyFy channel. The shows on there are good and in spite of the occasional bad word, the girls can watch it with me. We watch Ghost Hunters together, we watch FaceOff together, and just recently, we all got hooked on Heroes of Cosplay. And no, I only let them watch the repeats with me. All these shows run during bedtime!

For those of you not in the know, Heroes of Cosplay follows a group of talented people at different ComicCons around the country. They fashion amazing costumes in a matter of days, so that they can compete in the various costume contests. It is very cool stuff, as we get to see the costumes start off in brainstorm mode, to actual work on the costume, to the finished project on stage. The judging on these costumes can get very intense but most of the participants remain steadfast that if they aren't having fun, then it is not cosplay.

The girls love to see the work that people put into these costumes! They build dragons, learn how to shoot arrows for a Merida costume, drive racing cars onto a stage, turn into Ironman...you name it! It is really hard not to get hooked on the awesomeness of watching someone put hard work into something they love and journey with them through their creative process. 

What I didn't count on, is that the girls would start to think about their Hallowe'en costumes in this fashion too. Pixy wants to be batgirl with functioning wings and well, we all know what Banshee wants to be: Irongirl, duh! I think I may have dug my grave here, folks! It isn't like I am a stranger to making things by hand or perfecting something someone else has done. I love to do that! In fact, when I was teaching, I was known for changing lessons, creating new projects, and even making a class movie full of costumes....just for the thrill of seeing your hard work turn into something cool. I am just not sure that I can ever reach the calibre of the costumes the girls are loving on TV.

The prospect of building/making these costumes by hand becomes more daunting, as we are considering taking the girls to ComicCon in NYC this year. Banshee, who is probably the coolest three year old I know, has some special friends at Marvel Comics that she'd love to visit with and meet in person. The Sailor and I want this to happen for her very much...but. Yup, here comes a big BUT....Banshee and Pixy now want to go dressed up. Sigh! I am buckling under the pressure.  What if I let them down? What if I can't make their costume dreams happen? What if, by some HUGE miracle, they want to do one of the kid contests? WhatamIgonnado?! Sigh!

Part of me is kicking myself. Why did I let them watch this show right before Hallowe'en? Seriously, I wasn't thinking. Now, the bar has been set high and there will be no return from it. The other part of me is silently giddy at the thought that maybe this opportunity might be good for the girls, especially for Banshee. Her ASD causes her to be shy and have social issues as herself, but put a costume on her and she feels stronger, more social, more awesome. Pair that up with the Pixy...well, now we have something super awesome happening. Something to think about, huh?

I am still in the brainstorming stages, and in the end, might just go with something pre-bought that we fix up and make our own. I will take it one step at a time. I just hope that the kids' judge, if the girls do the contest, isn't Yaya Han. (Pssstt...we love her!)

              What are your plans for Hallowe'en? Homemade vs. Pre-bought. Talk to me! :) 

Renaissance Family

Today was a great day! We decided to surprise the girls and take them to the Maryland Renaissance Fair. It is probably the best decision we have made in a while. It is full of shopping, good food, lots of entertainment, and of course the joust!! I don't think I have ever seen the kids jump into the car that fast...ever!

Off to Crownsville we went, all giddy with the expectation of crossing off items on our personal 'Renaissance To Do list". Sailor wanted to eat a turkey leg or two, Pixy wanted her hair braided, Banshee wanted to take a picture with Queen Katherine, and I wanted to look at getting some new shoes for my pregnant-sized feet. (Yes, they are all kinds of swollen now.) It was exciting to know that this year, the girls would really get to enjoy the whole thing and take part in it.

We decided to get both girls' hair braided and then immediately off for a ride on the elephants. The girls looked like two cute Renaissance maidens with their hair in braids and escorted for a ride by their father. Nevermind that the ride actually lasted all of one minute--they were on an elephant for goodness sake! It was nice to catch the Sailor smiling from ear to ear, as he bounced along on the elephant's back.  We all needed this break from the craziness in our lives (the move is only a week away. Did I mention it is the same week as the first week of school? Yeah.)

From there, we went off to grab some lunch, after a quick stop at the Reptile Museum. The girls got to hold a snake and pet it: "Ooh, you're a nice girl, aren't you snaky?" Yes, that really did come out of my children's mouths. The snake's handler was very impressed by their bravery, to which he was told, "We've wanted a snake for a long time, but we just don't have the room at home." Really? Fill me in on the exact moment I said that, girls? Lunch was lots of fun, as we ate at a table with some revelers dressed in their renaissance gear. They were so into their roles, that it was interesting to see how the girls interacted with them. I have to say that they did well for their first time hearing and interpreting Renaissance speech. Go girls!

That was a couple things taken off our personal lists, just a couple more to go! We caught a couple shows, bought some magic wands for the girls, and I got to look at shoes. I swear the only shoe that I have been able to tolerate during pregnancy, is made at a store in the Renn Fair. Medieval Moccasins makes the most comfortable shoes ever! I use them all year round and honestly, it is time for a new pair, as my maroon shoes are a little lighter in color. They still look great but come on! I can so use another pair. I looked at all the colors and couldn't make a decision, but this gives me a chance to go out to the Fair again. HAHA!

I didn't get to revel in my plan too long, as I looked down and saw that my three year old was not smiling and not happy. Great! This experience has been too much for her, despite the fair not being too overcrowded or noisy. I looked at the Sailor and saw that he had noticed too. We all stopped our walk so we could ask Banshee what was wrong. As she put it, very simply "We haven't seen Queen Katherine to take a picture with her yet." After a promise that we wouldn't leave without finding her, we kept walking through the grounds(which promise you a workout) to take in the sights. Finally, as we were nearing the entrance...our salvation! King Henry and Queen Katherine were standing right in front of us inviting the children to come take pictures. "Banshee!! Look!! There they are!", Pixy shouted. The girls ran to the wonderful actors and curtsied, to which I received kudos on teaching them courtly manners. Yeah, baby! I rock!! They took their picture and the day was saved. I want to say that the Sailor and I high-fived 80s style, but I am sure he is going to deny everything, so I will just say that we were happy that all had turned out well.

In the car, after a requisite visit to the Privies, we all shared our simple joy of the day; a new routine since Banshee attended Kennedy Krieger. Sailor said, "My simple joys were that I got to eat yummy food and spend lots of QT (quality time) with all of you." Pixy said, "My simple joy was getting an elephant ride with Banshee and sharing a frozen lemonade." Banshee said, " My simple joy was everything today. It was special." Finally, when it came my turn to share, I wasn't sure that I knew what my simple joy was. The whole day had been wonderful! The weather was perfect, the crowd was great, we got to check off our to-dos while at the fair...I honestly didn't know what it was. As we drove home, I kept mulling things over and looking for my simple joy of the day. I didn't find it until we were on our driveway. "Eureka! I know what my simple joy is!", I called out. "My simple joy is that all day today, we were all smiling and happy. No tears, no sadness, no tiredness....just pure and simple joy." The car was extremely quiet. I looked back and....everyone had fallen asleep. Go figure! That's ok though, I know what my simple joy for today was and it is just fine. But if they ask me tomorrow what it is, I am going to say getting hit on by that saucy knight, hands down! Yes! Mama wins this round!

Happy birthday from the Mile High City

This weekend, today in fact, is my birthday. It is not a happy day for me at all. It is a day that comes with a lot of emotional baggage; a cousin who passed away at a young age shares this day with me, as well as the inevitable countdown to the death of my Aunt Emma (March 6th). So, needless to say, my birthday was not celebrated with too much pomp and circumstance. Oh, we had the parties and the family came over to have fun, but there was always that undercurrent of gloom. We knew what was coming around the corner, as it were. It wouldn't be until much later that I would figure out that I shared this day with Dr. Seuss and Jon Bon Jovi. THAT made it a bit more tolerable! Because of this stigma though, or in spite of it, the Sailor decided to gift me a trip to Denver, where the Navy Band is on tour. He was determined to make it a fun day, no matter what. Laissez les bon temps rouler, cher!!

As a birthday surprise, it is awesome. I got to fly on my own to Denver, a place where I'd never been. I am all for adventure at any time of the day, so it was not a surprise for it to begin at BWI Airport. In the TSA line, no less. Yup, there I was in the line, waiting to have my ticket and ID checked, minding my own business. The TSA agent was sitting on his stool and as I hand him my paperwork, he says: "You're very beautiful." Vanessa (my alter ego, who is always on the prowl for mischief), decided to show up right then, look him intensely in the eye, move a little forward to encroach on his space and answered: "Thank you." He was dumbstruck. I am not sure what did it. Maybe he has never experienced anyone staring him down or actually answering him, but he whispered: "WOW." I walked through the line, not giving him a look back, even though he was attempting to regain his composure. I believe the other agents were laughing at him. It was hilarious and classic behavior for my alter ego. Oh, Vanessa!, I thought. My birthday is going to rock.

Vanessa was born in my youth, due to some rogue pixie dust, some empanadillas(I AM Puerto Rican),  and an overactive imagination. She didn't receive her name until I was in my twenties, and it happened outside a club in DC. Go figure, right? A random guy in the club had been trying to get my attention and as we left the club, he saw his opportunity to approach. He invited me to an after-party at a different club and asked for my name. I told him the name was Vanessa, and immediately gave him the phone number for the Reject Hotline, all while laughing in his face. Vanessa, as an alter ego, is brutal. She loves strong women, hates lecherous men, and has a degree in mischief. She is the part of me that comes out when it is time to let loose and have fun. Naturally, she would make her presence known on my birthday weekend. At the airport. Sigh.

The flight itself to Denver was great. The lady in the seat next to me fell asleep and used my boob as a pillow. She was comfortable, so I let her stay there. Nice of me, huh? I was half asleep myself, but the funny thing was that her husband was sitting next to her, so I am sure he had all kinds of odd visions going through his head. I couldn't help but giggle once I figured out what was going on. WIN! Soon enough, we landed in Denver and the airport is huge. While I was waiting for my Navy Band chauffeurs to pick me up( I travel in style, baby! Ha!), I decided to people-watch.

The experience was amazing to say the least. I saw people meeting their family there, people arguing about who made who late in getting to the airport, babies running away from their parents(Run free!! There's freedom, outside!), and a rogue cowboy or two walking through on their way to their destination. Lots of interesting fashion, even more interesting shoes, and a nice mix of color. Enter my next adventure in the form of a young nice guy, who was waiting for his friends to make their way to the airport. He struck up a conversation with me and for the next ten minutes or so, we talked about my spawn and the Sailor. He also talked about his trip there and what he was doing. I remembered he did mention he was busy, so this was a nice treat for him. It was all very fun. Out of nowhere, a group of tween girls looked in our direction and started to squeal. I had been so immersed in our conversation, that I got startled and grabbed his arm. He mentioned that his sort of thing happens a lot, which I thought was kind of random. (Aside: I might have forgot to mention that I wasn't feeling well, and my brain is not functioning on all turbines at the moment, remember that as you read the next sentences.) The girls proceeded to ask him for a picture, to which he obliged. I thought that was nice of him too, and I watched the curious exchange--remember, I thought he was just a regular guy. It turns out, per one of the squealing tweens, he was one of stars of the movie Twilight. D'oh! I couldn't help but laugh at the whole thing. This was total Lisa-candy: make conversations with strangers and have them turn out to be famous. Sheesh! My sister is notorious for getting mad at me when this happens. She always shakes her head at me and says, "Are you serious?! Why does this keep happening?! You need to start taking pictures or SOMEthing. God!". I can't help but laugh because I think the same thing after the fact too. Sorry, Leelee.

Luckily, shortly after that the Sailor and another sailor buddy of ours arrived. It was very nice to see them both after their being away for tour. It had been a long tour for everyone, I am sure. We drove around the airport, saw the teepee-shaped roof, and the blue pony with the red eyes outside the airport--it was a blast! I remarked on the amount of wild rabbits jumping about the grounds of the airport and I think the Sailor mentioned he had counted quite a few on their ride over. Enter our next adventure, it now being 1am and officially my birthday. Yup, it got better!

We ended up having to take a cab back to our hotel, because our ride got a flat tire, and $75 later(or thereabouts), and quite a few local flicking off our cab, we made it to our hotel. I couldn't help but think that this was the way Denver was welcoming me: drunk people having such a great time, that they didn't realize the cab already had a fare, and needed to flick me off. HAHAHA! Vanessa did flick them back off! You get back what you put out there, right?! Right?! The hotel, though, is a nice joint! Kind of dead in the wee hours of the morning, but it was very warm and welcoming. We made it upstairs to our room and I found some cupcakes and a card that the staff of the hotel had left for me. It was perfect timing and a lovely surprise, as I was very hungry from the trip, and needed a little snack before bed. Talk about a great way to end the night!

Cue the sun; my nemesis. After a couple hours of sleep, he kinda gets on my nerves but I was determined to have a good time. After finding some awesome birthday wishes on Facebook, today's adventure led me to an awesome bookstore on 16th Street. Predictable of me, yes, but where do you think a bibliophile goes for their birthday? I guarantee you, it ain't gonna be the nearest bar. That's for nighttime!(giggle) I was able to browse the stacks, sit in the children's section there (a total happy place with lots of Dr. Seuss books today), and take a picture of a book with my mother-in-law's name on it so I could text back to her later. We walked around the mall area there and took in some local color. It was the perfect way to spend the day. I also got hit on again in the street, to which the Sailor and I laughed, because I haven't done anything different to myself. The Sailor seems to think that it is my eyes that are causing a stir. I recently colored my hair very dark again and naturally the gray color pops out. Personally, I just think that my boobs looked great in the top I was wearing, but I digress.

As far as birthdays go, it has been amazing. Full of fun tales to share with my spawn when I see them tomorrow (squeeee!). Most important though, I got to leave home and explore a brand-new place. I got to let Vanessa come out and just be myself, not have to worry about anyone else and spoil myself a bit(Buying books. Watch out! Big spender on the loose!). All that aside, I am grateful for my 32 years on Earth, and glad that I get to experience so many fun things daily, while totally making an ass of myself half the time. Why the universe keeps choosing me to experience so many interesting things, I will never know. I am going to enjoy it all to the fullest while I can, with my ragtag band of misfits, of course! I am hopeful that the spawn is not driving my mother and my sister insane. For the record, they were both laughing at the girls when I called, who apparently had decided to dance around and be silly.

As for my tonight: The night isn't over yet! My birthday is still underway. Who knows what new adventures are awaiting me tonight? Is it wrong that I'm hoping it involves a romp at a vampire bar,  a burlesque show, followed by some dancing at an LGBT dance club? Definitely not, I say! It's all about fun, plus the Sailor is with me. He is a good sidekick for everything! Happy birthday to you, says the Mile High City. I am wondering now what I will answer back later tonight. (Insert naughty laugh here).

The best thing about me: Random acts of kindness

I have training as a ninja. Well, not really. If we were to boil it all down, it would be more like really good espionage. It is a skill I am truly proud of too. There is no surprise too hard to handle! I have pulled off missions whose recipients are 'across the pond', and some clear across this country. It makes me feel good.

It all started with an obsession. The dark Goth/fashionista (strange combo to be sure) wanted something awesome to put on the girls bums when diapering. It gets extremely tiring to be changing the same boring cloth diaper, white in color, day in and out! Blah! I need color and excitement in my life. Thank YOU, Gen-Y Diapers! Their cloth diaper covers come in all prints, and are like Pringles; you really can't have just one! Due to my obsession, I joined their chat group(more like a group of enablers) to chat about diapers, babies, and sometimes life with other Mamas who were as obsessed with these covers as I was. Dangerous for the addiction angle of all this..oh yeah!

While chatting with these Mamas, I made fast friendships all over the world! I can now boast friendships all over the UK and all over the US. Yes, I am special! But, it also let me in their lives. Their everyday challenges, ups and downs, and of course, all the nice pretty things they coveted. This led me to think about how I could 'reward' Mamas who were taking time to be wonderful to others. My covert 'ninja missions' were born.

I would scour the chat for evidence of kindness, and immediately, jot the name on a list, along with what diaper cover they were most looking forward to owning one day. Needless to say, I was not the only one thinking this, and quite a few other Mamas(the original 7; grew to 12 rapidly) began to send diaper covers with little gifts to make the recipient one happy gal.

Oh yes, it got expensive very fast, but I found that what I was looking for was the feeling that something I worked hard on(trust me, the covers are practically collectibles and can be hard to find) would be enjoyed by someone else. Bonus: the Mama wouldn't know I was sending it, so finding her address was also hard work. I enjoyed the chase! The chase for information on the Mama, of course, and also the fun that here I was chatting with her everyday, and she didn't have a clue what was on its way to her. It was always amazing to find a thank you message in my inbox and a picture of the gift. While I don't do it as often now, I still love to hit someone with some ninja love when I can.

Recently, I was asked by a friend to write about what I thought the best thing about me was. I think I racked my brain for ideas, nixed quite a few, and finally I thought about my 'ninja gifting missions'. Huh. There might be something to that! I love doing a random act of kindness a day, simply because I liken it to a virus: once it is caught, it propagates very very quickly! It makes me happy, that through some small token, I can bring happiness into the daily life of someone else. I like helping others. THIS is the best thing about me. Well, one of them, anyway.

There's a lot more that defines me, to be sure, I really am like an onion. But, there is nothing like seeing the smile on someone's face when something you did, changed the course of their day or week. It is wonderful to know, that in spite of all the craziness in our lives, someone out there cares for you and thinks you are important enough to gift you with their hard work, time, and love. My hope is that by doing these things, silly as they may seem, I can teach my spawn about the importance of helping others. That even though we run as a family pack, we belong to a much bigger pack that we must take care of, as well. By planting one seed of kindness within this bigger pack, we have changed the dynamic in caring only for the self, into one where we think of others first. It is an important quality that must be cultivated, taken care of, and developed.

As for me, the random acts of kindness aren't limited to cloth diaper groups. Or even to other Mamas. I try to do as many nice things in my day as I can; to go that extra mile. You never know when a little something you do: a sign, a smile, a kind word, a letter, a song, a care package, or yes, even a diaper will help someone in need. Always. I am firm believer in that!  

Lost in Austen

I have been obsessed with Mr. Darcy since I was extremely young. I believe I found a copy of Pride and Prejudice sitting on a bookshelf somewhere and I was bored. I believe it was love at first sight...or first read. This love carried on, even as I picked up the book again and again. It was a constant. I was obsessed. Still am.

I have always had a love affair with books. My family used to laugh that if you didn't hear from me in ten days, the search party would only need to look in the nearest library, where I would be buried in a book completely oblivious to the world around me. Other girls had their dollies, their clothes, their dreams of being princess one day; but I always wanted to be Elizabeth Bennet. Don't get me wrong, I had all those things too, but books were more precious to me than anything in the world.

Every time I have been depressed, or just needed a quick escape, I have gravitated towards Pride and Prejudice, where I've gotten lost in the wonderful world of The Bennet family many a time. I am sure that Jane Austen never thought her work would speak to a young Puerto Rican girl, but there it is. It is my belief that she wrote it for women everywhere, regardless of where they were topographically speaking or where they were in matters of the heart. Maybe I lived in Georgian England in another life, who knows? Somehow, that book is real. It absorbs me and becomes a portal into that world.

Today began as any other Sunday. I was exhausted. I hadn't slept well the night before and I knew that we had to stop by church today. The Pixy had Sunday School and we needed to get there early because I wanted to get a seat before the crowd got there. Today, everyone would want to get to church early and pray--the Ravens were at the Superbowl later. The problem though, was that I couldn't get up. I heard the alarm from far away and just couldn't get up. I think I started to shout all kinds of obscenities at the alarm clock and I heard the Sailor say: "Today we are staying home. I am exhausted." I think I did a happy dance, albeit while half-asleep. As the Sailor and the girls made their way downstairs for playtime, I decided I would sneak away to Longbourne, with all the other crazy Bennet girls, through a movie called 'Lost in Austen'. Trust me, the book is sitting on my bedside table.

I believe this movie gives the novel a fun twist, and one that has probably been imagined by every single female the whole world over. Who has not thought of being transported into a novel and having to adopt the role of a main character, simply to meet the love interest? Most bibliophiles, I am sure. I, for one, never thought to plant myself in the story, much as the protagonist of this movie (Amanda Price, played by Jemima Rooper) has. She has taken Lizzy's place in the book and Lizzy has gone to live in modern-day London. A fun idea, to be sure! As for me, I always became Elizabeth Bennet; never switched places with her. I didn't want to. I saw through her eyes, and to a point, agreed with her view, regardless of how many other times I'd read the book before. I know..lunacy, I am sure. But, I treated myself to the film, no matter how different the movie is from the book, since my book club had just finished reading the actual novel and I needed a pick-me-up. Mr. Darcy=Lisa-candy, and everyone knows it.

Soon enough, I found myself in Amanda's shoes and thoroughly enjoying this new adventure. I found myself laughing along at Amanda's antics, shocked at the modernized Lizzy Bennet, and entranced by the first glance of Fitzwilliam Darcy. I know I always hold my breath at the first sight of him, maybe thinking that if I breathe, the spell will be broken, and he will be just a man in a funny hat. When I regained my composure, I found myself wondering what Jane Austen would think. I wondered what Mr. Darcy would think of this film. I also wondered what could possibly drive me to seek him out every single time something went awry in my life. Mr. Darcy MUST be my knight in shining armor.

You see, I remember reading the novel when I was younger and being made fun of by everyone, because it was a belief that girls who read were doomed to be ugly and boring once they grew up. Remember, I lived in prime beauty queen country and anyone who didn't really fit that mold, was ..well, odd. So, I swore to myself, I would never lose this awesome gift of reading just to become part of the throng. It worked.Very well. Quite a few people read(pun intended) my desire to pick up a novel instead of doing things typical for my age as a huge need to be completely antisocial. Maybe they were right. Who knows? In my head, though, I always hear my grandfather saying that a "woman who can read book, drink a beer, tell a joke, and hold intelligent conversation is a great one, and only a fool would let her go." He was really big on intelligence and always made me feel beautiful because of it and all the quirky things that made me who I was, regardless of the 'ugly duckling' thing I had going on. He was a good guy.

Soon enough, the movie was done and the spell was broken. I was brought back to the present by sounds of my girls fighting over who got to tell me that the broom had fallen on its own, which in my family's tradition means a visitor would come today. I also heard the Sailor tell them that no, it probably wasn't going to be Harry Potter, as he probably had a test to study for. I laughed out loud at that one. It seems that the gift of imagination was passed on quite well! Life got back to its typical rhythm very quickly, as it always does at our house.

 I still couldn't help but think that reason I am so drawn to this novel, so in love with the unfolding of events and its characters, is that they represent much more to me than what they are; fictional characters in a book. To me, they have become real people. I have assigned each a real world counterpart, even as I am the interloper in their midst, the one who they must accommodate every single time I pick the book up to read. A reader carries their own baggage, you see. (Thank YOU Thursday Next, for that wonderful idea) I also wonder, what about mean old Mr. Darcy is so attractive to me. What makes him the ideal? I want to say it is mainly because he is completely misunderstood. Events in his life have shaped the person he is, and until he learns another life lesson, he will continue to live on as he does. Or perhaps, it is because despite his flaws, he is not afraid to try new things,  showing himself to be courageous in spirit. I guess I am not sure.

Maybe, just maybe, I think of the one moment in the novel that pops out at me every single time. Yes, THIS must be why I seek out Mr. Darcy. For everything else he is or embodies, he likes a woman who reads. He told Caroline Bingley and Lizzy Bennet so. And a man who likes a woman who reads...well, he is a catch as well. No matter that the truth universally acknowledged is that "a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." Hmmm. Perhaps, there is also truth in that a woman in possession of a good book must always be in want of a new adventure. Yes, I think I like that.

Games little wolves play...

Picture it! (No, not Sicily 1972) It is about 19 degrees outside and all is quiet. The snow is still falling and won't let up for another two hours. The Sailor and I were not looking forward to shoveling the driveway and the sidewalk. I think we savored our pot roast dinner longer than we usually do, just to avoid the last chore before bedtime for the girls.

I don't know who thought it first, or how we even got on the topic! After dinner, I was suddenly inspired to look for all the girls snow gear. It turns out that we didn't have any for the Pixy, since she had outgrown the clothes she had. (I will not mention that there was no snow last year AFTER I had bought all the necessary gear...thank ya very much Mother Nature!) Banshee though, was golden! All of Pixy's old stuff fit her. I gathered everything up, improvised a little, and shepherded everyone into the living room and started dressing everyone up to go outside. Well, not the wolves but you know what I mean.

I could tell that the Sailor was happy that he wouldn't be alone outside and he quickly got dressed. The cold seeped in through the doorframe, and the girls shivered on the landing. "Let's do it!", I said. "Who will fall first?", the Sailor asked the still night and we shared a chuckle. The boys, my two pups, were excited to go out too. Who would be the first to cave in and ask to go in for the night?

It was actually pretty cool to see the girls hesitate, as if the serene street shouldn't be disturbed. They stood and listened to the "sounds of Nature", a skill I feel is very important because if you can't recognize what Nature is telling you, then you might find yourself in a serious problem. Both of the girls swore they heard the snowflakes landing on the ground, and I agreed as I started skipping over the pristine white snow covered on the yard. I heard little squeals of happiness behind me, as they both struggled to catch up. My big white GSD, lovingly called "The Big Bad Wolf", complained a bit as the girls got a little too far from him. "Oh, it's all right! You can go grab them in a second", I said. My other pup, was just scouting the yard for trails of things to hunt. It was pretty cool!

"Mama, this is the most fun ever!", Pixy shouted. So much for keeping playtime quiet! The girls quickly got bolder and went exploring around the yard, because "it is so different at night!". I went to help the Sailor out by clearing off the truck of snow, as I hummed "who's afraid of the big bad wolf?". As I moved to the truck, I took a quick look around at the undisturbed snow. It looked like someone had dropped golden glitter on the ground. It was really beautiful and..noisy? The Sailor started attacking the girls by shoveling snow on their feet and the dogs were happily barking. He laughed and said: "Watch out! Memories being made!".

I thought about this, as I cleared off the snow off the cars and kept an eye on the adventurous spawn and the boys trying their best to keep them close to the house. We all access childhood memories, but can we access the small details? The sounds, the tastes, the feel of it all, seem to get lost somehow. I found myself trying to access any memory from my youth and see how many details I remembered. Immediately, I remembered one! As if by magic, I was transported to a warm afternoon in sunny Puerto Rico, which was ok with me! It was 19 degrees, remember?

Maybe it was the cold but I remembered the cold tiles on the porch of my grandmother's house in Guayanilla. The memories all started flooding back, building a scene whose small details I thought lost forever. Growing up does that sometimes, you know! Anyway,  I remembered the feel of the cement pathway on my feet as I made my way through the backyard to my grandfather's work space. As I kept thinking about this space, I remembered the feel of dog fur between my fingers. It was the family dog,  a big German shepherd, who I thought was my personal horse and best friend(probably where my obsession with these wolfy dogs began). I also remembered the feel of fresh sawdust on my fingers and the sharpness of fresh cut woodchips on the bottoms of my feet. You see, my grandpa was an amazing hobby carpenter and his work space was my playground. I shifted noiselessly in my snow boots, as if they were somehow slowing this process down.

The small details did not stop coming, though. I remembered the sound of my grandmother washing dishes and running the water. I remembered the feel of the heat of the kitchen, as the stove was on. But most importantly, I remembered the feel of sitting on the old wooden swing beneath me as I sat with my grandfather, whistling at the Coqui in the bushes, listening for an answer back. I was awoken from that memory, as the girls hit my face with a snowball. I giggled and chased after them, but stopped in my tracks when the Sailor said, " Do you smell freshly cut wood?". Huh. That's interesting!

It felt nice to remember that and I wondered if I was doing the same for my girls. Would this night, through the details, become so ingrained in their memory that they could access it this fully later on in their life? I could only hope so. They seemed to be enjoying it. I mean, it was almost as if we were all alone in a little world of our making. Our noise didn't draw anyone out to peek out their windows, nor were there many cars out. The night was ours and I wasn't going to waste it reminiscing.

We quickly finished the shoveling, cleaning off the truck, and went off to play with the girls. They were pretending to be pixies in the garden and the dogs were their guardians. The Sailor turned into the werewolf that howled at the moon, and apparently, I was the deer that was going to get eaten. The dogs, both white in color, got in on the hunting and brought me down very quickly. It was a fun romp. A LOUD one too! Just like that, the fun was over and we entered the house as one.

"That was really fun, Mama. Thank you," said the Pixy. " I loved it. We play in the nighttime," said the Banshee. As I looked at them, I couldn't help but think about accessing those details for the future. I tried to remember every single moment, as I patted my back for being the coolest Mom on the block. I wanted them to be able to recreate this memory of all of us being crazy enough to go play in 19 degree weather. At night. I wanted them to be able to access all the details so fully, that someone near them would ask, "Do you feel a cold spot?".

As I sit here typing this out, all warmed up, the house is now as quiet as the night was when we invaded it earlier. The girls and the boys are sleeping, the Sailor is working on his music, and the house is making the night sounds houses make when they are resting. Through the windows, moonlight hits the now disturbed snow, and though I would agree with the Sailor that our house cannot be mistaken for a house with no children or animals, all I see/feel/hear are memories . Let's hope that when the time comes, the girls can access them.

As far as my memory, as easily as I remembered it all, it has now been tucked away to access later. For when I really need to feel the warmth of a regular sunny afternoon in my grandparents' house in Puerto Rico.

"Hey, are you from Baltimore?"

It was cold and quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you look around for shadows where there aren't supposed to be any. Then out of the quiet stillness came this: "Hey, are you from Baltimore?!" "Well, yeah and you're not," I answered as I ushered my little pack away. Score one for me!HA! The voice had come from a group of drunk guys, obviously celebrating SOMEthing.  They thought that I was extremely funny, and the Sailor just shook his head at me, smirking because he knew I couldn't leave it alone.

It isn't usually this quiet in Baltimore at ANY time(even with the screaming drunk guy), except that the Ravens were playing and it was 6:30pm on Sunday. The city was dead, which made me a little sad. Baltimore always offers some kind of pulse, even in the oddest of conditions. Suck it up, lady! Let's have fun anyway!

 I had won my spawn a couple of passes to the National Aquarium from the Pathfinders for Autism society. The night promised to be relaxing, as the Aquarium was closed down to the general public and only open to pass holders. They also made it more sensory-friendly, so the lights were turned down a bit and the music was turned off. The girls were extremely excited. In fact, so excited that they were skipping down Pratt Street in anticipation. It was rubbing off on me.

It wasn't that long ago that I would zip out of my university and come to this same place to sit in front of the dolphin tank to think. You see, every Friday you can stay in late if you get in by a certain time and boy would I milk it.I think most of my papers were written in front of the observation windows to the dolphin tank. While most college kids were closing down bars, I was closing down the Aquarium.  On Fridays, anyway.

We made it into the main entrance, after our encounter with the drunk kids on the street, took our coats off and went to touring the Aquarium. The Sailor was a bit excited too. It had been years since our last date there and the place "has changed quite a bit!" There was some construction going on, so the sting ray exhibit was closed off, but other than that...it looked the same, smelled the same, and the walls felt the same. Talk about a sensory experience!

Lots of families with children with special needs and children living with autism were present, which was nice since the night was so they could all enjoy the place without the crowds. In reality, it was quite loud and busy. I looked at my Banshee for the tell-tale signs that she was uncomfortable(she can't do crowds, at all) and to my surprise..she was ok. She pulled on my hand and said, "Mama, it's ok. Let's go."
 And go we did. We jumped on the escalator(Woohoo! You rock on escalators girls!) and managed to wade through all the exhibits(Sorry! Your butt was in the way), pouted when we saw that the Rainforest and the Dolphin show were closed(Why would they close the bestest parts?), and were excited to see all the awesome jellyfish floating about like spacecraft(Dude, those are SO aliens). She took turns looking at things, laughed when she saw the real-life Nemo and Dory, and "concetrated" (concentrated in Banshee-speak) when asked to find the tarantula in a certain exhibit. Even Pixy got in on the fun! We made a bet that whoever found the snake first, who was expertly camouflaged in a branch by the way, got the honor of buying everyone a snack. Pixy won! SCORE! We all had a good laugh and soon enough, two hours had passed and it was time to go. The Sailor had to work extremely early the next day and we wanted out of Baltimore before the bars let out. Gotta head home, chicas!

We made our way out of the Aquarium with lots of lamenting, because "we really want to stay with our dolphin friends, Mama" and "Daddy said we can hang out in Australia with the crocodiles"(I am SURE he did, girls), back out to the quiet streets. We walked in front of the Hard Rock cafe, behind Pier V, all in quiet observation of the night. "Can you hear what it's trying to tell you?", I asked the girls, "besides that the Ravens rule." I looked at both of them pointedly, which gave us all the giggles.

I am sure it was then that we all felt it. The city was welcoming us there. It was happy that we appreciated it. It's pulse or city-melody was intoxicating: the lights on the buildings like glitter, the drunken songs drifting on the breeze, the sounds of water hitting the pier, the smell of the sea heavy in the air, and the feel of comfort and safety all around us. It assaulted all our senses, which was ironic as we had just left a venue that was supposed to be "sensory friendly", and there it was...the nameless feeling that I always looked for in my youth and always found in Baltimore: the feeling of home and belonging somewhere. We belonged there. The city was ours and it was wonderful. She makes no apologies for who she is. In your face, friendly, full of shadows and light, happiness and sadness too. She is history made and history being made. She is Baltimore. Whoa!

On the drive back home, I kept thinking about the reason why I answered the drunken guy that way...besides me being a smart-ass, I mean. Maybe I read him too well and could tell he wasn't all there(he WAS drunk), maybe it was the regional US accent(he said BALTimore, not Bawl-mer), maybe it was the way he was dressed(like Zack Morris), or maybe it was just plain obvious that he didn't know where the hell he was or where the hell he was going...but I was certain of this: I knew where I was, what I was doing, where I was headed, and who I was going with. It felt good.

So, if I could have a rewind of that moment, please maestro!
"Hey, are you from Baltimore?", asked the drunken guy in an overly loud tone, while he weaved in between two other drunken guys.
"Well, yeah and you're not," answered the no-nonsense city she-wolf, as she ushered her littles and her mate to their destination, without a glance back...

Yup, it still seems like the right answer to me!