zjlw

http://www.flickr.com/photos/zjlw/sets/72157605282550643/

We gave the condo a fond, final farewell.

We are already planning the next trip up. Condo free.

‘Nuff said.

15 minutes. We were 15 minutes away from making it through the weekend crisis-free. After I finished cleaning up after our creating Mother’s Day present masterpieces from each of the kids (courtesy of a fabulous idea from Lee’s sister Kris. Muchas gracias cuñada), we were to head out and pick up Lisa from the airport. Only it didn’t work out that way.

Instead, we ended up in the emergency room. Oddly enough, it was a Monday not a Tuesday.

“Daddy, Jake swallowed a magnet.” “What!?!” “Yeah, it wasn’t so big though.” “What?” “I told him not to put it in his mouth.” “What?” “I think it was an accident.” “What?”

I wiped the stunned look off, but wasn’t so successful with getting rid of the visions of recalls and perforated intestines. A call to the pediatrician confirmed that having my car keys and directions to the hospital in hand was a good idea. 3 hours in the emergency room was spent breaking into a cold sweat every time Jake went near something in any way metallic. My boy, the fridge magnet. There were, in fact, 2 in his gut revealed by x-ray.

Lee’s welcome home consisted of a taxi back to the house, a frantic drive to the hospital and 24 hours of nervous searching through fouled diapers for magnets.

Welcome home babe. You got your souvenirs.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/zjlw/sets/72157604864391794/

After 10 hours in an airport waiting for the airlines to work out numerous weather related issues, Lee made it to North Carolina for a family get together. This left her children in my care. For four days. I might have mentioned that.

Sakura Matsuri 2008. It was hysterical making plans for this weekend with Ian and Matt. I made them all by myself. “10am Matt. No, I don’t have to ask anybody. See you at ten. Yeah, we’ll meet at the pavilion. No, don’t have to ask anyone about that either”

“Yeah, you go ask the wife if that’s ok Matt. Let me know.”

Kev, I was going to throw in the dig about “how it’s weird not having the manic obsessive planning for trips to the blossom fest”. Then again, the only bit of the weekend for which I was not left detailed, minute-by-minute instructions was the only bit that did not come off successfully. I had ambitions to make it to Jake’s swim class prior to leaving for the festival. We made it out the door 10 minutes after it started… without Jake’s swim trunks. We ended up just going to the coffee shop. Grande cappuccino, milks and a bagel and we hit the road

The festival? A resounding success I would say. We even saw an old friend.

Some random dude walked up and asked if we wanted a picture taken. As he was working out how to make my camera go, the b’klyn kicked in and I was working out how far away he was, how out of shape he looked and how fast I would have to run to chase him down.

The Cherry Blossom Festival was, for all intents and purposes, a 5 and a half hour long game of tag. Zoe, Jake, Andrew, Cole, Liam and Bronwyn ran amok. Jake passed out when he hit the car seat, only to be woken 2 minutes later when we made it to the Miracle Grill in Park Slope for a late lunch/early dinner. We would have had a little walk around the ‘hood but we were thoroughly cooked and the dirty monkeys needed to be hosed down.

Two days down. Two to go.

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Kind of a mixed bag this month. We stayed fairly close to home and the set is on the thin and domestic side. Still, seemed to produce one or two keepers.

Zoe getting her game on. That girl is the athlete that I never was… a huge relief ’cause I aspired to mediocrity at just about any sport I attempted. Soccer or taekwondo or skiing or gymnastics, it hasn’t really seemed to matter. Now if she would only get over her borderline hysterical fear of swimming we’d have a complete set.

We hiked into B’klyn to check out the Burns‘ new digs on Atlantic Avenue in Boerum Hill. The kids? They played. They had ice cream. All good things.

This weekend my wife is abandoning her husband and children for a family get-together. Four days. No problem. Right.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/zjlw/sets/72157604265760573/

We’ve been talking about making a trip north with the Warners. Talking, talking, talking… not much with the action. We finally made it. Our only regret? After years of trips with family and friends to this home away from home in the White Mountains, this was likely one of our last.

We heard the Easter Bunny was in town, so we paused briefly in Providence to rendezvous.  Bunny? No bunny.

There was just a little snow. Lee said it was the best skiing she’s ever had up there. Fortunately, the St. Bernard and the ever-present cask were nowhere to be found. Between Lee, Ed and Julie, the trail-side delivery would have turned into a high-speed cocktail party looking for a tree.

Lee’s father is nearing retirement and those creaky old bones just can’t take the slopes like they used to (Hi Cel. I am counting on your memory having gone long before your bones. You’re sure to have forgotten this email before I see you next. Right?). So, investment that it was, the condo was sold not long after we stepped back across the New Jersey state line.

More favorites out of a lovely trip.