In my mind, this year will always stand in contrast to 2015 and in every respect this year was a vast, vast improvement. This year would have had to go way off the rails to match ’15’s insanity. But in and of itself, it was a pretty good year, all around.
There were no extended hospital stays. No crazy medical maladies. No roofing disasters. It took most of the year, but as of right now, there are no contractors, contractor materials, or in-progress projects in the house for the first time in two years. It sometimes feels almost too quiet. I think Dash misses his worker friends.
Instead, 2016 brought travel. There was a big trip to California where we hit up San Francisco and Discovery Bay then down to San Diego and finally Anaheim for the girls first taste of Disney. There were also numerous trips to the Cape, some with friends and some with family. And while we stayed local for Christmas, we did navigate the Beltway for Thanksgiving in D.C.
There were small, every day victories, too. We haven’t changed sheets at 3 a.m. in quite awhile so I think we are past that potty training parenting hurdle. There were also rock star parties, karate birthdays and new schools. There were chapter books to read and letters to learn. Half marathons to race and triathlons to win. There were many domino nights and pizza-making parties. There were a lot of friends and a lot of laughs.
Can’t really complain about a life full of those things.
In the end, 2016 was mostly routine and I loved every minute of it.
We started the year in Maui and are ending it emptying a moving a truck in a new house.
In between was family 5ks, 5 years old, monkey bars, Easter dresses, planting peas, one less day care bill, Sesame Place, triathlons, PawSox, trips to the Cape, puppy cousins, blueberries, 10 year anniversary, Bermuda, open houses, first day of school, missed buses, piles of leaves, more monkey bars, Thanksgiving in DC, one last Christmas, moving boxes (and more moving boxes).
Here are our favorite moments of 2014:
A pretty good year. I hope yours was, too. Happy New Year.
There are many litmus tests for discovering a native Southern New Englander, like a Masonic password, you just need to whisper the word and you have an instant connection with a stranger. Del’s, coffee milk, Rocky Point, the lingering memories of white knuckle crossings of the old Jamestown Bridge. Take your pick. I’m sure every part of the country has similar nooks and crannies of curious Americana that interstates mostly bypass these days.
Well, who are we to deny Cecilia a chance at experiencing a railroad themed amusement park carved out of a working cranberry bog located in the backwoods of suburban Carver, Massachusetts. We’re not! So, in late October, during the cranberry harvest we headed south for an afternoon of Ferris wheels, merry-go-rounds and bumper cars at Edaville Railroad. Check it:
In all seriousness, this is a great little place to kill a Saturday afternoon. Small enough to tire them out, but not so big that you can’t cover it all in three hours. Reasonable prices with one of the (abundant) coupons, too. If you’ve never been, it’s worth a trip. I’d recommend packing your own food. They have ample food kiosks, but none that I’d like to risk my colon on again.
One time might be coincidence. Twice, puppy exuberance. Three times is a full blown love affair. It’s been a good month now and if he could, Dash would marry the playground (this is Massachusetts so maybe that’s legal). It’s quite possible he loves the playground even more than Cecilia does. His agility genetics come out in spades when we hit the park. Slides, tunnels, stairs, sandbox, all at 100 miles per hour on his springy puppy legs pausing only to lap up some puppy Gatorade (water) or consider how to break into the tennis courts and get his teeth on all those bouncing balls. I’m pretty sure he’s going to figure out the swings pretty soon. Take a look:
When the tide goes out in the tidal flats on the bay side of Cape Cod, it really goes out. Like Cecilia backpedaling from an afternoon nap, the water seemingly recedes backward over the horizon for miles (that’s only a small exaggeration). Walking out on the exposed sandbars early in the morning can often make you feel like an apocalypse survivor. Just you and the horseshoe crabs. All that empty space is heaven for a toddler with energy to burn.