2/9/13 The Life of My Name

I'm not sure how it started, but chatting at lunch today, I told Julian it would be fun if I could figure out how to write stories and download them to his Nook SimpleTouch reader. This was a birthday gift from me to him that is oddly special to me, even though it's his. He so loves to read, and it just seemed like such a perfect thing for him -- especially if I could write stories for it.

I started to talk aloud about how I'd write the story of his life, starting with "My name is Julian" and launching into the first story of his life, that he was named Adam at first. This morphed into one little anecdote after another about his names, which I recorded in short voice memos on my iPhone. Before I knew it, a story was taking shape. "The life of my name!" he declared. What a fabulous title, I loved it!

So we huddled together for about half an hour while I typed a first draft of the story, watching him laugh as I wrote things, changing wording if he seemed puzzled. I wrote it from "Julian's" perspective, but of course it's mostly my impressions. It was a perfect opportunity to show him the concept of writing a draft, not worrying about spelling or editing now, just getting content down, as I encourage him to do when he's writing his reports. Then I printed the draft for him to edit.

I feel silly blogging this when I haven't finished the story, but I guess the real story here is how this fun endeavour developed. What a special thing to have with my son! Now I just have to figure out how to "publish" it to his Nook. I'll update this post with the complete story when it's edited too.

I did the writing, but Julian's title is really wonderful.

2/9/13

OK, adding this: The story.

The Life of My Name

by Julian Doudna (ghosted by Mom)

Feb 10, 2013

My name is Julian

My name is Julian.

My name almost wasn't Julian.

The first story of my life is that I was named Adam for about 12 hours, right after I was born. Adam was the plan, but after I was born, my Mom kept looking at me and cooing, "Oh, my beautiful precious baby, Ju-- …. er, um, I mean, Adam." She looked at me and looked at me and looked at me and kept thinking, "You're not Adam. You're Julian!"

My dorky Mom just couldn't make up her mind.

The next day in the hospital, a lady came into the room and wanted papers to record my name for good. She looked at my Mom impatiently (probably thinking, "what a dork,"), and said, "SO? What's the baby's name?!" Mom says she just couldn't call me Adam. So I was Julian.

So this story could have started off with:

My name is Adam.

But it didn't.

I don't like being Julian

My Mom says that once when I was about 2, I said, "I don't like being Julian." She wondered if I had early self-esteem issues…and asked me a few times what I didn't like about myself, and I kept answering, "I don't know." Grownups sure ask some dumb questions sometimes. Of course I don't know!

Turns out, all I meant was that I didn't like my name Julian, not myself Julian. But I got over that. I like my name now.

Where my Mom got my name.

It's not like my name Julian just popped up in the hospital though. My Mom had done some research to find just the right boys' name, since she liked my older brother's name Gabriel so much. She wondered how she'd find another name that was unusual and distinctive, but not weird or hard to spell or say.

So she found a book at the library called "11,001 names For Your African-American Baby." I didn't know I was African-American! Mom says I'm not, but she liked the book. And that's what gave her the idea for the name Julian. She says it just grabbed her.

But then she and my Dad wondered if maybe Julian is too close to a girl's name, like Julia or Julianne. Of course, now, anyone looking at me (and hearing me) certainly knows I'm a boy! And never once in my life has anyone mistaken Julian for a girl's name. My brother Gabriel on the other hand, gets "Gabrielle" all the time. Sucker!

Girl's name If I had been a girl, I would have been named Natalie. I guess that's OK. My brother, if he'd been a girl, would have been named Elise. I so don't get that. Why a different girls' name for a different baby? Grownups really don't make sense sometimes.

Nicknames

It's a good thing I have such a cool name when I have such a stinky nickname. Would you believe, my Mom still calls me "Precious precious?!"

She came up with cute nicknames for my sister and brother, but my nickname is ridiculous. She kept saying I was the most "precious baby," so she got in the habit of calling me "precious". Well that's already dumb when you're 2, but when you're 9, it's downright ridiculous. In fact, she made it worse somewhere along the way by doubling to to "Precious Precious.." Like one 'precious' isn't bad enough? I mean, seriously! Is she trying to get me beat up? Speaking of nicknames, occasionally someone calls me "Jules." Blah, I don't like that. They always say, "You know, like Jules Verne." OK, so the dude wrote a great book about adventures and stuff, but so what. Doesn't mean I want to be called Jules.

Turns out, Jules Verne's middle name is Gabriel, my brother's name - another reason not to be associated with him!

Mom's favorite

I think my Mom secretly likes my name the best of all. She says she really likes its sing-song quality. And she uses it a lot: "JUUUU-LI-AN!" Luckily my name has that nice long strong sound that can be SCREAMED again and again: "JUUULIAN! GET BACK HERE NOW!" The principal sure knows my name really well!

Uncommon

Actually, my name isn't as common as you might think. Seems everyone knows my name, and never mis-spells it, but no one can ever find pre-printed things with my name on it. So while my brother got a cute mug with his name on it in cute bubble letters, I got a generic one with safari animals. Other kids can find license plates and things with their names pre-printed, but not me.

My Middle Name

My middle name has a pretty cool story too. My Dad wanted at least one name to be related to British cars, which is why if my older brother had been an older sister, he would have been named Elise, after the Lotus Elise. So when I was on the way, Dad wanted my middle name to be Morgan, after a British 3-wheeler vehicle made in the 1930s. That's, like, totally forever ago -- I guess cars didn't even have four wheels then! But my Mom wanted my middle name to have a family connection. My older brother's middle name is James, after her father, for instance.

One day, my Mom was talking to her sister, my Aunt Stephanie, about this problem, and Aunt Stephanie said breathlessly, "Wait -- didn't you know that Dad's mother's maiden name was Morgan?!" Wow! What a cool coincidence! So my middle name is Morgan.

But I'm still not sure if it's after a crummy overgrown tricycle or my great-grandmother.

Conclusion

I think my name is going to sound GREAT when they announce the winner of the Nobel Prize someday!

the end

2/6/13 Middle School

One life's logistical challenges I'd been putting off fretting about was school next year: Gabriel is going to middle school, and the middle school I'm zoned for is about as far as possible from my house and still be in the middle-school district.

How would he get there and back?! The district is shaped long, and I live at one end, and the middle school is at the other end. My middle school is much too far to walk from home, much too dangerous to bicycle, and there are no public busses. Carpooling is unreliable, I don't know enough people, I can't contribute to a carpool either. A coworker told me about a bus that neighborhood parents arranged, but it would still involve driving Gabriel to the bus stop. Walking home is by far the most reliable method.

Then, things changed completely with a letter from the school district a few weeks ago. Attendees of our elementary school in a small area that includes my house, were given an option to attend a middle school that is physically closer. I'd wanted to get Gabriel in that school because of proximity, and it's also very close to elementary school and CDC, but since its test scores are higher, I figured it would be impossible to request a change.

But now, because of space concerns at the fine but far-away middle school I'm zoned for, suddenly there was the option of the closer middle school (with higher test scores, whoopee, whatever).

Here's a map. The school we're zoned for is named "Cup. Middle." The school we're not zoned for, but we suddenly have an option for, is named "Lawson." The kids attend Collins for grammar school, which is about a 1-mile walk from home.

I sent in the letter with the option checked YES for the closer not-zoned middle school, thinking it was merely requesting the option -- but I'm told that is actually final (not officially confirmed). If that's true, suddenly, the school landscape changes again!

Middle school will be very different from elementary, and from when I was in 6th grade. They'll have daily P.E., an 8th-grade mentor, electives, and online collaboration with classmates. My goodness, my newly-minted 11yo is really growing up!

2/6/13

2/5/13 Chicken Nuggets

Katrina, for some reason, took it upon herself tonight to help me with dinner. With characteristic brightness and charm and bouncy enthusiasm, she announced, "I'm going to help Mom with dinner!"

I was tired, it was late, I was stressed by work overload, and I was planning on a quick kid-food dinner, but her happy attitude was infectious. "OK!" I said.

And then, I learned the miracle of girls. I pulled out a bag of chicken nuggets and explained to her what to do: get a tray, put some aluminum foil on it, put the nuggets on the tray, put the tray in the oven, set the oven to 400 degrees. And she did it all -- focused, cheerful, full of happy adorable comments along the way.

Of course, I handled the hot-dangerous part, like turning the nuggets and pulling them out, but truly, my six-year-old daughter did darned near everything else. If it's possible, I think she was prouder than I was, exclaiming again and again that SHE helped with dinner, and SHE can make chicken nuggets now all by herself, and SHE is my best kitchen helper.

She sure is!

2/5/13

2/3/13 Squaw 3: Back from Squaw!

Time to update and include all the wonderful memories and stories from our final day at Squaw!

Katrina was in ski school all day, so it was just me and the boys to continue to get to know this huge mountain.

It was really warm again today, something I object to philosophically because it makes skiing conditions not-so-great, but I really really don't miss the whole frozen-toes thing of my youth.

But after a full day of ski school yesterday, and being totally "in the groove" at our new home, the boys were ready for some serious skiing! I was really impressed with Julian especially -- he still always looks like he's about to fall over, but he's brave, he likes to go fast, he tackles features with no thought, and totally, completely enjoys it.

The boys took me to places they'd been to in their lesson yesterday, including this ancient and short chairlift at the beginner Belmont terrain park.

This park ("Belmont") is so small we could all just ride the life on our own and tackle the boxes and jumps ourselves.

I wanted to learn to ride a "rail," and tried to practice sideways sliding on boxes, including this one. Unfortunately, no one told me you're supposed to enter it from the side, not head-on. I rammed right into the front of it and tumbled head-over-heels, with one ski, crashing all over the box. Ouch!

Julian saw the whole thing from the lift. Later he reported that he too had had a "yard sale" crash.

Gabriel.

Great way to depart the terrain park: via the half-pipe.

After lunch, time for some lower runs. How about Dead Tree Run off of KT-22. I'll say! It looked deadly! The boys peered over the precipice in warranted fear. What a lovely ridge view though.

We stuck to the "easiest" way down from KT-22, which were double-blues (including my new nemesis, icy moguls).

The boys on "Saddle," from the KT-22 lift. Icy and mogul-y, but they both did great. (Julian in the red helmet and green jacket.)

I thought this was "Saddle Face," a black-diamond, but looking at the trail map I think this was actually just "Saddle," a double-blue. Still, icy moguls are no beginner terrain. Julian especially made some real leaps this trip, he's much faster and braver than he had been, if not quite as confident or smooth as Gabriel.

Even on "Home Run" back to the Squaw base and Village, there was no shortage of amusement on the side of the runs. Julian actively and eagerly sought anything different he could....if not elegantly!

I had to pick up Katrina at 3:15 and had juust enough time to make a quick run up KT-22 again, but fate -- and a snowboarder -- intervened.

At the very bottom approaching KT-22 (technically a green), Julian and a snowboarder were on a 90-degree collision course as Julian barreled down the last part of a ski run toward the lift...I saw the rider coming but figured one of the two males would back off....hah. I keep underestimating testosterone and overestimating male judgement!

Julian's skis took out the snowboarder's board -- no body collision , but it put them both down. Julian at barely 50 lbs can tumble like a piece of popcorn and not notice it; the full-grown much-heavier snowboarder took out a bunch of SLOW signs (same type that my friend's daughter hit) and was down for a few moments, stunned.

We had to wait for ski patrol to check out the situation. In a few minutes the rider was moving, and kindly apologized in a foreign accent for the trouble. Guess it helps to weigh 5 times more! It wasn't until then that it occurred to me that technically, it probably was the boarder's fault. But Julian totally should have seen it coming and slowed down. Doesn't matter whose fault it technically is when one person could/should have avoided it. Sigh. So much for my one last run up KT-22.

Katrina was done when I picked her up at 3:15, so no more "last run" with her. I didn't blame her, she'd been in all-day ski school for 3 straight days now. I sent the boys up "Expedition" lift while I picked up Katrina, but they came down wide-eyed and frustrated: "Solid ICE, Mom!" Still, I was beaming with pride that I could send my sons up a lift I'd never done and basically know that if they didn't come back in one piece, it was because they'd been tearing each other apart -- but they can ski it.

That was it! Back to our hotel condo -- really fabulous accomodations for a "hotel." I hate hotels and elevators, but there were perks: it was cleaned every day, and it was a condo, not a motel room. It had a nice balcony, a bedroom with a queen for me and two bunkbeds for the kids in the other bedroom, so it fit us just fine. And so nice to have some help with kitchen cleanup!

I decided to give the kids dinner, pack up, and make the drive home at night. While doing so, I noticed Gabriel's ski sock. Wow, he's actually worn it out. Guess we've done this whole snow/ski thing more than I thought!

Amazing how different boys and girls are. All I had to do was tell Katrina once or twice to put away all her snow stuff, pack her clothes into her knapsack, take a bath, and get into PJs for the drive back. She had a question or two, and happily made comments about her tasks as she went along, but before long, she was done. Julian -- nowhere close, but he keenly observed his sister say that she was going to pick Curious George to watch, or something, so he stepped up too.

Gabriel? Something got him into a snit, and when I was done with my shower, he was still sitting defiantly on a chair, refusing to budge, unable to recount what was the original trigger, and hadn't even started getting ready while the rest of us were done. I had no patience for this, and forced him through a quick shower angrily, after which he helped me tote things downstairs with irritation. Honestly when it's just me and all 3, especially dealing with a hotel, an underground parking garage, and swipe-cards for access every step of the way, you really do need others to carry their things. I'm tired of their constant expectation that I'm their valet. Katrina was by far the most cooperative, even enthusiastic, finding a way to carry her clothes, her snow stuff and her favorite animal all together. Her brothers?? Forget it!

Somehow I got everyone, everyone's snow stuff, clothes and skis packed in the car, with a lot of help, and we were off at about 6:45pm. I don't mind bailing early from a place I've paid for: I got my moneys' worth! We used it for popcorn, hot chocolate, tracking down Julian in the Children's Room; we took baths and changed and packed, had dinner, got ready to do. And everyone was anxious to see our acts (no one moreso than me, since I'd unwittingly learned how much Mommy-Meow-Stache means to me on our trip up...I really wanted to see her!).

But Mother Nature wasn't done with us and cats.

A stunning event on the drive home: I almost made roadkill out of a full-grown mountain lion. No kidding, a genuine wild lion ran out in front of my car. I thought for sure I would hit it, but somehow just barely missed. This was at 7:21pm in I-80 West, just before the sign that warns that Alta, CA is 1 mile away. Ironic that the trip started with a troublesome cat, and could well have ended with one too!

Despite the huge cloud of missing the family who we'd planned to do this trip with, and fretting about their daughter's injury, it was a terrific experience. It definitely opens my mind about large "glitzy" resorts -- my instincts are with the small, more intimate, less-crowded places, but who cares once you're out on a run? There's room for all. It'd take us weeks to get to know Squaw -- and without ever moving the car! I'll take it!

2/3/13

2/2/13 Squaw 2: Lesson Day

Today's "plan," as it were, was to put all 3 kids in ski school, so that I could take a lesson. My friend I'd planned to ski with had expected to put her 3 kids in ski school too, and probably tackle cliffs and precipices I could only imagine viewing from a helicopter, but I figured we might at least meet up for lunch. So I'd glommed off that idea and reserved ski school for all 3 of my kids, and a lesson for me.

Unfortunately, my friend's plans had a twist when her daughter was seriously injured yesterday, and the whole family packed up and zoomed to a hospital about 2 hours away. Fortunately, the girl's surgery went well today, and she's expected to make a full recovery. The family's trip was cut short, but my plans were cast in stone, so I just went with it.

First, getting everyone to ski school this morning was the usual challenge. Being in the village, we don't have to drive to the ski school, but I do still have to get everyone ready on time, and then get them to carry their gear to the ski school.

They all have their own gear now -- the cost of rentals was enough to push me over the edge to get their own stuff. Katrina is thrilled about her own boots, and is quite adept at latching them herself!

Still, even with a ski-in-ski-out lodging arrangement, there's never any way around trudging heavy ski equipment from place to place. With all three having their own equipment, there is no way I can play valet -- they have to do it themselves. Ironically, Katrina is the most cooperative about this.

With their own gear, I could make some choices -- and actually paid $10 more for a red helmet for Julian over a black one. Why would I do that? Just guess! To spot him easily from a distance, especially since he is so freakin' irresponsible and hard to keep track of! I made up for the extra expense by scoring an $80 helmet for Katrina for $20...there's only so much market for Dora-decorated helmets.

I checked them all into ski school, attempting to give busy instructors input into their levels. I've had so many experiences now with my kids being stuck in a class all day that outside their level, that I'm now turning into one of those parents who appears to be overstating their kids' abilities. This time though, there were so many kids, and the level descriptions were so clear, and Katrina had had such a good day yesterday, that I didn't worry much about misclassification. They assured me that they evaluate all the kids to place them in classes -- but I know better. If there's just one kid at their own level, they'll get put in the nearest group, which is how Katrina got stuck on the magic carpet all day earlier this year. Well, whatever, there were a lot of kids here. So, off you go!

Speaking of misclassification -- what about my lesson? Was I "Intermediate" (blue runs) or "Advanced (blue and black -- Squaw black) ? Noticing the crowd gathering around the "Intermediate" sign, and stereotyping based on the gear they had, I decided to hang around the "Advanced" area. I was immediately intimidated by a cheerful bright young woman who said easily that she did back-country skiing on her own all the time, but figured it was time for a lesson. She was raised in Alaska. Hu-kay.

In the end, four of us, including me and the back-country woman, were evaluated by two instructors, and they split us into two groups, with me and Ms. Alaska together. I always say I'd rather be the worst skiier in a lesson, and indeed I succeeded. I was really intimidated, putting ridiculous unnecessary performance pressure on myself. This is a lesson after all! But she was gracious and it was just us two, so we were in for a good lesson.

And so we had. The instructor deftly handled our differences: she with a lot of experience and no lessons; me with a lot of lessons and not enough experience. We did a lot of exercises and drills, always my favorite, but the instructor also asked if I could handle being "pushed." As always, I said, "Sure!", not knowing exactly what I was signing up for.

In this case, it was attempting icy steep moguls on "Sun Bowl," a black-diamond that's pretty high-up. This was really hard for me, and I had some moments of freak-out and not knowing what to do. My classmate handled it confidently, asking pointed questions about her technique, but it didn't faze her. It totally fazed me. It was hard and I hated not having the control to just whizz down this. The instructor saw how I was struggling, and later apologized that he hadn't anticipated how icy the terrain would be, but I said, "No excuses!" I have to learn this -- I want to, I don't want to be limited by how the conditions happen to be that day. I was thrilled that we did it, and have new determination to conquer moguls -- ice or not.

With regret but familiarity, I skiied the afternoon alone, and figured I'd use this time to try to get to know this huge mountain. I chickened out of one mogul-run after another, finding just one that I thought I could handle, and did. This is something I must master.

Ski school pickup time: 3:15!

I was annoyed to learn that Gabriel and Julian had been in the same class all day -- not again!! They're at very very different levels, how could they be in the same class?? I asked the teacher with obvious consternation, but of course he had the same answer they always do: not enough kids at Gabriel's level to fill out a class of his own. Julian was at the bottom of the class; Gabriel well at the top. There are plenty of kids Gabriel's age who ski better -- indeed, I was stunned at how many kids I saw skiing like experts -- but not in all-day lessons. Another selfish pang of regret about my friend's family having to leave -- her oldest daughter, Gabriel's age, would certainly have skiied at or above his level. In my opinion, they should have split the class, but I'm not the one paying instructors. Fortunately, the boys had both had a good day and didn't push each other off the lift or force instructors to kick Julian out of the class.

I was really tired from my morning challenge, but all 3 kids wanted to ski after ski school, and we had just enough time for one more run. This meant going up the gondola to mid-mountain, where the best and most accessible skiing for us is (that we've found so far, anyway).

From there, we rode up the newly haunted lift -- I'll never like Big Blue Express again after what happened to my friend's daughter there (and yes I know it's not really the lift's fault!), to get to Squaw's half-pipe.

To my amazement, Squaw has dealt with some long flat spots with a vestige from my childhood: a rope tow!

The kids weren't crazy about posing for photos, but I was able to persuade them to wait at the top of the half-pipe so I could position myself for photos of them in the half-pipe.

Which are pretty hard to take, and didn't work well at all. I should have waited at the bottom. All 3 kids clearly had done a lot of this half-pipe and were super-comfortable. What fun!

This was the first I'd skiied with Katrina since her 2 days at ski school. She's still very dependent on wedging ("pizza") to slow down, but I definitely see some increased confidence and ability to handle different terrain. She's faster too.

To my surprise, Gabriel too looks to my amateur eyes like he's picking up some real style, not that you can tell from this photo. Here he's going up the side of a run, following Katrina actually (who got so far ahead so quickly I wasn't able to get my camera in time).

Seeing this other woman in my class this morning, so confident and relaxed, made me wonder what it'd be like to have a ski buddy, or a group of adults I could ski with, even if we were at different levels. I think I'm an odd case that whatever ability I have has been developed entirely from group lessons, skiing alone, or with a kid -- no ambient learning from hanging with peers.

But, as much as I enjoyed my lesson today, and as annoying as it can be to try to keep track of all 3 kids skiing, I think I enjoyed our end-of-day run together the best of the whole day. It's so worth it to see Katrina's joy at showing off, her saying, "Do you see the GRIN on my face, Mommy?" and hugging me later. The boys show their appreciation a little differently, but it's totally there. Skiing is a major hassle, an unprecedented expense, the season is way too short, risky, and fraught with problems and annoyances, but at least for right now, it is such a wonderful thing for me to be learning, and to share with my kids.

And even though this trip was traumatic for my friend's family, one way or another, I will find a way to ski with her -- or at least see her expertise disappearing rapidly into the distance ahead of me!

Tonight I walked around the Village a little, picking up a pizza and more milk. Though there are some really nice interesting restaurants and shops here, I couldn't take my eyes off the stark mountains, and the creek winding its way through an oddly flat spot between the peaks. I had to wonder what this valley looked like before the village and ski resort and roads and people. It's stunningly beautiful, so large, so full of contrasts. As always the soaring mountains never fail to bring my spirit along with them. What is it about this rugged, drastic place that speaks to my heart and soul so clearly? I wish my father were here, he'd know. Even if I can't ski someday, there's a piece of me that just belongs in the Sierras.

Tomorrow, Katrina goes to ski school again, and the boys will show me the places they went to today in their lesson that I didn't know about. (I hear there's some big sporting event tomorrow that should keep the crowds down.) I can't wait!

2/2/13

2/1/13 Squaw 1: At Squaw!

I'm SO behind posting this week, mostly because of preparing for a ski trip. I type to you from Squaw Valley aside Lake Tahoe -- so if the prep was bad, at least I should post about the trip itself!

It had an auspicious start, starting with an almost non-start. I reserved this trip last August, before I knew how drastically my life would change, and even at the time I had some concerns. Squaw is a big resort, and the reservation was for the Village -- a very handy ski-in, ski-out arrangement (no driving!), but still, effectively a hotel. But my friend and mentor who got me started on this whole crazy expensive kick was also going this weekend, so I just couldn't resist. I almost cancelled when work commitments got to be too overwhelming, but in the end just couldn't bring myself to do it. What other chance would I ever get to ski with friends -- and I wanted to check out Squaw!

So all week, I prepared: pre-packing, getting all the kids their own ski equipment (deciding that the cost of rentals was better put toward their own gear), getting everything tuned and calibrated together. Not to mention making sure all my work commitments, and the kids' school commitments were met -- I'd have to pull them all out of school one day to do this.

Then, the day before leaving, a huge work project came up, and I was asked to attend a meeting that was scheduled to end at 4pm - in the city -- on the day I'd planned to leave work a little early and get a head start on the driving. But now, I'd be in San Francisco until 4pm! Normally I'd never mind, but this would set us behind by some very crucial hours. My employer has been so wonderful and flexible that I decided I had to suck it up and just do it. In the end, I was glad I attended the meeting, but time was super super tight. With no snags, maybe we could get on the road by 7pm. And bonus, no traffic.

But there was a snag. Meow-stache was nowhere to be found.

I'd seen her that morning, but not when I hurriedly dropped off our skis before the trip to SF. Usually she appears within minutes of my walking in the door, but not this time. Had she gotten out? As we packed up, we searched everywhere for her -- every closet, under every piece of furniture, in every drawer, behind every door, then outside with flashlights. No kitty.

I was devastated -- what did this mean? Where is this cat? Why did she pick now to do this hiding act?! Or not? Was she trapped? Had she gotten out somehow? What should I do?! In the end, I decided we had to get on the road. So we left, gloomily, and very very late.

Once I was able to talk without crying uncontrollably, I called the lady taking care of the cats in our absence to tell her. I was so upset, I was convinced my kitty was truly gone. Julian, to my surprise, arguably the least attached to this cat, was also very upset and worried and crying. I'm sure my visible worry was no help, but I was really upset. I've grown so attached to my BFF, and just don't need any more loss in my life right now.

I texted Bonne Maman at a stop, and called Stacey, both of whom assured me she was probably just hiding. And then, to my amazement and never-ending gratitude, I got a text from Stacey that she'd checked my house and found the kitty. I woke Julian (still driving) to tell him the great news, and we all cheered and celebrated. Thank goodness!! And thank you Stacey! Later, I talked to the caretaker lady and she said that cats are really good at hiding. When I ranted, "why NOW?!" she pointed out that the kitty now recognizes the "going-away" motions around the house, and was protesting. I'm sure she's right.

So, between work and the missing-kitty drama, that added up to a very very late start for a very very long drive, to a place I've never been to, and that had added logistical complications such as underground parking garages, elevators, missing parking permits, not being able to find carts to carry stuff, key-card entry -- at midnight with 3 tired children, everything is a pain. I was very focused though: get the kids to BED -- Katrina had ski school in the morning -- and then deal with the unpacking, unloading and preparing myself. Which I did, to the tune of 2:30am. I was fried. Had I really driven to and from the city that day too?! And been devastated by believing I'd lost my dear cat, until my friend rescued me?

But we were HERE -- Squaw Valley, site of the 1960 Winter Olympics! Nothing else to do now but enjoy it! And finally, I get to do this with another family, my friend who started it all, and my kids get to ski with her daughters, and all that work and preparation and planning and massive effort -- and expense -- will result in a fabulous time together. Totally worth it!

In the morning, though I was SO tired, I HAD to get up and wake up Katrina to get her off to ski school first. She was so proud of her new skis and boots and Dora helmet, and didn't object at all to all-day ski school.

The kids' ski school is right across from our hotel, where I'd left the boys while dropping off Katrina, so these logistics lived up to advertising, and were indeed easy. I so needed that!

I got back to our condo and found the boys not ready, and the world was spinning around me -- I was just too tired to function. I needed more sleep. I let them boys watch TV while I snagged another crucial hour of sleep, popping awake at 10:45 and thinking, "Time to go SKI!" I texted my friend that we were suiting up and we'd hit the Funitel (a gondola that brings you up to the upper half of the mountain) in about 10 minutes.

As the boys and I were trudging toward the Funitel, I felt my phone buzz, but couldn't check the text. No matter, there was my friend was, right at the bottom -- with one of her daughters in a ski patrol toboggan! Uh-oh. But my friend was very relaxed and said, "yeah, she hit a sign, we're checking her out."

So the boys and I went up the Funitel, and then did the tourist-thing of pondering maps and trying to figure out where to go. We aimed for another lift that would give us a decent variety of moderate blue-intermediate runs, and started to learn the "Siberia Bowl" area of Squaw.

This included a simple but pretty fun terrain park with large features (that speck on the 2nd hump is Julian). I had a great time with these, and couldn't help yelling a little.

A new ski place is filled with navigational challenges, and one short mogul-y hill we weren't sure was legit, but Julian loved it and we named it "Julian's Run."

The top of Siberia has a run with a designation we'd never seen before: a "double-blue," which is supposed to be skiied like a black diamond in low snow conditions. Er, I have no idea if these are low snow conditions, but it was nicely challenging at the top. Julian did fine the first time, had trouble the second, and didn't want to do it again. Gabriel and his new longer skis, and his pride, either had no trouble or wouldn't admit it.

I had some trouble, mostly in my head -- I've had so much instruction, this should be no problem for me now. I can do it safely, but style suffers.

Another game the boys and I have now is to "hockey-stop" each other, which means the stopper barrels point-blank straight toward the victim, then at the last minute does a hockey-stop and sprays as much snow as possible on the victim. Julian could use a little work on his control; he tends to run into you. Gabriel, never, but boy it's close sometimes, and I have a hard time not flinching. Sometimes the boys team up and do it to me together. I got Julian good today and completely coated him with snow once.

Another game we made up is for one of us to suddenly call out in a challenge, "BOMB IT!" and then go straight down in a tuck, racing each other. This works great here at Squaw, there are some nice long runs that aren't SO steep that I lose my nerve, at least where we were. The boys love it when I suddenly call that out and take off! It always ends in laughter and more hockey-stop spraying.

But early in this fun, I got a text from my friend, who I'd only briefly glimpsed at the bottom when her daughter was in a ski-patrol toboggan -- the poor girl (8yo) is actually quite injured -- a broken leg, and might need surgery. They took her to a nearby hospital, who then referred her to more capable hospital outside Sacramento, and she's in for surgery and will have a nasty recovery. The whole family packed up and left today. Worry and fear and sympathy and "oh my goodness how awful" -- is there a word for that?? -- overran disappointment at not being able to ski with my friend and her family. We're all very worried about this horrible injury and her upcoming surgery and recovery, though the prognosis is excellent as far as we know right now. But my goodness. Julian especially was so psyched to show off to the girls (three of them).

Reaching deep for a way to feel better, I suggested to the boys that we send a photo of them dis'ing the sign that she'd run into, and they gladly agreed.

Actually, we weren't sure which sign it was, so just to be safe, took this one too (it was the red one though).

Gabriel had a spectacular crash too, he says -- hit some ice, landed hard on his back, tumbled about 100 feet down a slope, according to the witness who retrieved his ski. I had gone on ahead a bit to see if I could meet up with Julian, then was concerned when Gabriel didn't show up right away. He was fine about it, but his wide eyes told me this was no minor slip-out (Julian has those all the time, half on purpose). As tough as he is, he's not indestructible, he's had his incident with ski patrol too.

Most kids -- people -- never get injured, but that's "most," not "all." It's going to happen. The fun and challenge and experiences outweigh the risks for us, for now, but having a good friend's daughter so badly injured is a reminder of the downside. I wonder if the calculus will change for my friend's family.

We were all pretty tired by 3:15 when we had to go pick up Katrina -- and unlike at Sugarbowl, I don't know this mountain well enough yet to tell the boys "do two more runs on XYZ lift, then meet me here," and know that they'll be mostly safe, and that I can find them. So we picked up Katrina from ski school, and called it a day.

She had a great day apparently, with a class of just one other girl about her age, and about her level. No problems here with getting stuck on the magic carpet this time, partly because there are plenty of kids to fill out every level. Her teacher said that Katrina's got all the basics covered, but now it's time to learn to ski parallel all the time, and she just needs more practice. Her best asset is a great attitude, she really likes it. They spent the day on greens and moderate blues, and a lot of time at Squaw's half-pipe.

Naturally the boys wouldn't make the transition from skiing to slugging stuff around easy; we had another incident with Julian kicking Gabriel in the knee with a ski boot. I was furious, he could seriously injure someone doing that, and end our trip too. I just can't get across to that kid what is really really unacceptable. Once in our room though, everyone was too tired to do much else, and I let them watch TV. Being on the 4th floor of a condo/hotel in a developed "village" makes it a lot harder for the kids to just pop out the door and play in the snow anyway.

But there are benefits -- I can see the lifts right from the balcony of our condo.

And it was still warm enough to hang outside for a while and enjoy that view (reflected in the windows behind me.)

This whole week has been really challenging getting ready for this trip, then the day of departure was brutal. All that would be easily reclassified as amusing stories -- but not my friend's daughter being injured. That's cast a big cloud over the whole trip, I can't stop thinking about them and how worried they must be.

I think in their honor we have to have a great injury-free rest-of-trip -- and with all 3 kids in bed early tonight, it bodes well for tomorrow!

2/1/13

1/26/13 Sooo behind....

Wow, I'm horribly behind in my annual calendars.

SOME friends take care of this in early December, anticipating the end of the year and all (because, what, the end of the year is a SURPRISE?!) -- but No, I have to wait until the end of January to finally get my rear end in gear to do my annual "Doudna Kids" calendars.

Fortunately, family and Shutterfly are very forgiving, and allow my calendar's "year" to start any month. But the only photos I have for winter months last year are snow photos.

I'm bemused by the fact that "snow photos" were a normal, and irritating, part of Februaries of my formative years. But now, raising my children at essentially sea level in a temperate climate, having to jump through huge hoops to get to the snow, turns snow into fun.

Maybe it's having to make an effort to get to the snow, or maybe it's the glorious mountains themselves, but snow play here is really different than where I grew up -- here, we have to drive to it. Snow here in CA is much much deeper, temperatures warmer, and drastrically less accessible, than I ever experienced growing up back East. And warmer -- heck, most school days, the boys insist on wearing shorts!

Having been raised in New York, and living 6 years in upstate NY as an adult, 2 of those with a car, I'm quite accustomed to snow -- but very un-accustomed to seeing it as a "good" thing. Upstate-NY snow is "just" snow, it lingers for months, and it's truly cold -- so scarves and gloves and snow-boots were a daily part of life. It's so different in Truckee, where the snow is far far deeper and more severe, but only for a short part of the year. Just enough to make the whole snow-boot / mitten / glove hassle a rarity.

I hate being late with calendars. I have a very sweet uncle who gets concerned if he hasn't been sent him a calendar on time :). So I'd better get on it!

1/26/13

1/25/13 Sick Children

Sigh...Gabriel's missed two days of school for being sick....nothing serious, just a temperature and a cough.

Now Katrina caught it, and I spent the day home from work with her. She was OK overall until evening, when the fever hit her hard. She'd been upstairs in her room relaxing, until about 6:30pm....then she came downstairs just looking so sad. She didn't say anything, she just looked at me, miserable, I felt so bad. Poor thing. I held her for a long time, then set her up on a couch nearby as I prepared dinner.

Gabriel doesn't sound so great either; he went to school today but he too is recovering from a cough and sounds hoarse. Julian seems OK so far....

We're supposed to go skiing next weekend -- I'm praying this round of fever/cold runs its course by then -- and bypasses me altogether. It always hits me and my weak respiratory system the hardest if it at all...let's hope not!

1/25/13

p.s. what I should be writing about, but was once again horribly unprepared, but it's constantly on my mind: 11 years ago today, I became an aunt! Happy 11th Birthday, Cousin Aidan! We've been thinking and talking about you nonstop today -- even if illness and timezone differences made it impossible to call!! We love you!! And no one moreso than your super-lame-o Aunt Noemi!

1/21/13 back to cats!

How happy we all were to be reunited with kitties!

Meow-Stache was typically nervous at first, but relaxed soon with wriggling around.

Ahem, this handy kitchen spot was not intended for you! Zorro takes over, waiting for treats.

The kids were so happy to be re-united with their feline friends, but no one moreso than me. Meow-stache is truly my BFF, following me around, sleeping with me, and lying next to me purring as I blog. Now that's what kitties are about!

1/22/13

1/21/13 The Love Store

Katrina quietly scurried away to her room and closed her door, busy with some endeavor for much of the evening.

Then: "Mom, come! I HAVE to show you something!" She brought me to her room and said, "Welcome to my Love Store!" Complete with a sign.

She'd spread out pictures and animals and a few other items in an appealing semi-circle. All priced at $1 each.

She talked about it for hours, describing scenarios of customers and talking about future expansion plans. The most amazing thing is that she cleaned up her whole room first to make space for The Love store!

1/21/13

1/21/13 Paradise cabin

Some photos of our MLK Day snow trip. This was the lovely "cabin" but it's really more of a small house.

The garage had an interesting roofline!

I couldn't believe I saw this sign in the kitchen -- I thought I made up that saying!

The kitchen was small, but very well-appointed.

The "yard" wasn't even just a yard, it was more like a small forest. This development has a lot of undeveloped area between the houses, so I think these are unbuilt lots or something. In any case, it was a massive area for the kids to play in.

And best, a big boulder!

Katrina was proud of herself that she found a way up there.

No bigger fan of snow than the smallest one! It hadn't snowed since our trip two weeks ago, so it wasn't so deep -- which means about 3 feet deep, still hard to walk in.

Katrina and her "private rock," before she was able to climb up onto the big rock.

Sometimes the oldest-fashioned play is the best.

I spent a fair amount of time outside playing with them, taking pictures, climbing the rock, and slogging around in the snow. It made me wish for snowshoes and a long forest hike!

I tried to set up for a snow photo of all three of us, but it was really hard to get everyone together....and then Julian ruined the photo with a tongue stick-out. I hate when he does that. Most of the time that's funny, but sometimes I really just want a good photo of us all together.

Gabriel and I had watched some YouTube videos of building snow caves, and he was inspired. He spent hours out here, well past dark one night, and then first thing in the morning the next day.

Meantime, Julian and Katrina played chess together!

Later when Gabriel came in, he was exhausted!

This was really a lovely, wonderful cabin, and we will be back. And I got my picture!

1/21/12