Rite of Passage

What is it about this wobbly, top-heavy, easy-to-tip barstool that draws the eye of every curious baby in our family? And don'tcha love that they each have their own style of showing off? Cuz you can see the gleam of pride on each face; my babes are impressed with themselves and are damn happy to conquer the barstool all the while watching their mama sweat. Just the scratch of a barstool leg on the tile floor makes mama come running. And of course it's Malia testing me with the whole "look ma, only one hand!" (Yeah, I know, I risked the fall in order to take their picture. Totally worth it.)

A Case of Spring Fever

With the dark cloud of illness looming over our house for the entire winter season, we have been housebound and sick far too much for a family with three young, lively girls. You name it, we've had it...cold, stomach flu, cold, lice, cold, pink eye, cold, cold, cold. In fact, I think we've passed around the same cold virus since January. So coming into Spring Break with colds was a bit of a letdown, and after listening to the lovely vacation plans of so many friends...I admit I was a bright shade of kelly green with my envy. I was ready to get the heck out of Dodge and have some fun, but it wasn't looking good.

Our week started off mellow, nursing a cold and a possible case of pink eye (thankfully it never transpired), and with rain in the forecast I was quite concerned that our Spring Break was going to be a miserable, painful bust. But by Wednesday we were out amongst the living, hitting children's museums to hold starfish and fly space shuttles, horseback riding and spying on barn owls at a bucolic ranch nearby, and visiting a baby giraffe and Malia's beloved capybaras at the Santa Barbara Zoo. And today Olivia was off to sleep over at her cousin's house in Seal Beach for the very first time. Talk about exciting for a 5 year old.

Reminds me that I was looking at the glass half empty again...there was plenty of adventure and fun right under our noses.

Auntie Tita spreading her passion for horses to my girls, with the help of her sweet horse, Snort (tough name, gorgeous girl)

My sweet girl, a slice of romaine and one very long, black tongue

A Farewell

This weekend we said our final farewells to a truly good man, Leo Perez; a husband (who called his wife "Lover" til the day she died, after 62 years of marriage!), a father of 3, a grandfather of 6 and a great-grandfather of 5.

Having been part of Paul's family since our early years of dating (because that's the kind of people they are- they open their homes and arms generously), I have heard many of the family's stories (and continue to hear the good ones over and over). But upon his death, I continued to learn more about what a great man Grandpa was.

As a young man, he was a competitive cyclist in the Bay Area, with the utterly cool nickname "Chili" Perez. He was a Navy man, proudly serving his country during World War II, during which his ship was bombed by Kamikaze planes in the Pacific Ocean; he was one of few survivors pulled from shark-infested waters. In his retirement, he and his wife were founding members of Food Share, gleaning leftover fruits and vegetables from the fields for those less fortunate.

He was a man of many talents. He was known to family and friends as a fantastic cook, a master gardener and a talented wood-worker, using his favored oak boards to make just about anything and everything, and building well into his late 80's. Every family member has enjoyed the fruits of his labors: bellies full of traditional Mexican dishes, beautiful plumerias growing in our gardens, and his lovely oak furniture gracing our homes.

He has a well-earned spot in Heaven, where he can enjoy watching his Angels and square dancing with the love of his life, Stella. I am so grateful to Leo and Stella, not only for beginning this family and allowing me the chance to meet Paul, but also for the chance to be like a granddaughter to them. I never had the opportunity to meet either of my Grandfathers, they both died shortly before I was born, so Leo was the first man I called Grandpa. And my heart swelled every time Stella called me "Mija"; they took me in with the generous manner their children continue to practice.

And I'm grateful that my children got to meet them, even if it was only for their early years. Unfortunately, Grandma only got to meet Olivia, but Grandpa held and cuddled each of my girls, and I'm so glad we have pictures to show the girls of each of them in his lap, sleeping sweetly or staring up at him, enjoying his warm, strong arms (and God bless Grandpa for holding a screaming Malia last summer!).

We love and miss you Grandpa!