Sampling Some Super Sunscreen

We don't leave for the beach until Saturday, but I've already started mentally packing. Books, towels, chairs, swimsuit, sun hat, umbrella, gin, tonic, limes. What else could we need?

Sunscreen, of course.

If you're a regular Convertible Lifer, you know that sunscreen is serious business around here. After losing chunks of my forehead, part of my back and countless little spots here and there, I don't mess around with keeping my skin protected -- but I also still really like being in the sun.

So when I got an email earlier this summer from a company offering to send me a sample of their new sunscreen in exchange for a blog review, I was intrigued. SmartShield claims to be "serious sun protection" -- sounded like a good fit, but wouldn't it have to be sticky, smelly and thick to really be serious?

For the past two months, I've been wearing SmartShield's Rehydrating Face Cream with SPF 45 almost every day. Billed as "a luxury face cream with a unique formula for sports enthusiasts and professionals," it is the best everyday sunscreen I've found for my face. It's rare to find an everyday sunscreen with an SPF as high as 45 -- and this one isn't sticky, smelly or thick. In fact, it made my skin feel really soft and lovely, which was a total surprise. Make-up goes on easily over top and doesn't slide off halfway through the day because the sunscreen is oil-free. But even more importantly, it works -- even when I found myself in a sunny seat at the baseball game with no hat on (shhh, don't tell my dermatologist!), I didn't get sunburned.

In short, it's great.

Now you'll have to take my word for it that this is an honest review and in no way tainted by the free sample. If I were just sucking up to SmartShield, I probably would have written this review two months ago when they first sent me the sample, so maybe that helps with my credibility (or maybe it just shows that I've missed nearly every deadline all summer). And I will add that there are a few items on the ingredient list that might not appeal to those who are cautious, close-readers of labels, but I have to balance that with finding a product that works well.

Actually, I'm hoping they'll send me some of their other sunscreens, lip balm, insect repellent and the self-tanner to try out -- but I'm probably just going to have to buy them like everyone else.

Friday's 5: Things I Learned on Vacation

We spent last week at the beach. It was glorious -- even with one rainy day and two cloudy days. I won't bore you with the details of drip castles and sunscreen and sand in the bath tub and trying to force Junius to let me take his picture. But I will share with you five random things I learned while at the beach.

1. Good books are even better with cocktails. Before I left for the beach, a friend recommended that I bring a copy of Rules of Civility by Amor Towles. And she suggested that I enjoy a mai tai along with it. Spot on, with both recommendations -- although I'd add a good gin & tonic to the beverage list. As a result, I've decided that all literary selections should come with a drink menu.

2. Some women shave their faces. Not because of a hair issue, but to slough off dead skin cells in order to look younger. And by "some women" I mean someone other than me who may or may not be one of my friends at the beach. I'm not a dermatologist, I haven't tried this, and I'm not making this up -- I'm just sharing. And no, I don't have a picture for this one.

3. Beach olympics are perfect on a cloudy day. You'll be totally jealous when I tell you this, but one of our friends organized "olympic events" including sack races, hula hooping and water balloon tosses -- complete with a hand-stitched olympic flag and "Chariots of Fire" playing in the background. There were also olympic ring tattoos and gold medals for everyone. See? Jealous, right?

4. Dress appropriately for the battleship tour. They don't tell you this on the website for the USS North Carolina, so I'm going to give you the straight truth. We stopped in Wilmington on our way home to tour the WWII battleship. Being an actual battleship, it's very interesting, seriously enormous and crazy hot (no air conditioning) -- all of which they mention on the site. What they don't tell you is that you SHOULD NOT WEAR A SKIRT. My above-the-knee swingy knit skirt was great for the temperatures, but not so smart for climbing up and down the dozens of ladders all over the ship while strangers stand below. Now you know.

5. Popsicles are for breakfast. Or at least they are on check-out day. In year's past, I've always ended up throwing the leftover popsicles in the trash -- not like they're going to survive the trip home in the cooler. This year I was awarded Rock Star Mom status when I handed my kids popsicles and paper towels and sent them out on the deck at 9 a.m. while we packed up the house.

Now it's your turn. What random knowledge have you acquired this summer? Share with us so that all may know...

Beach 5: Tips for Parents

We've taken our kids to the beach for a week every September (or late August) since they were born -- Junius was only 2 months old on his first trip, while Pippi (a winter baby) was already 6 months. We're beach people -- it's what we do.

Over the past six years, I've picked up a few tips to make parenting at the beach a little easier. Of course, things change with each stage -- thankfully I no longer have to worry about my kids eating sand and shells. 

But as my beach-memory week comes to a close, I thought I'd share some of the this year's best tips with you:

1. Trash bag: Bring a plastic grocery bag down to the beach with you every time you go. You can use it to collect trash (for my kids, it's juice boxes and fruit snack wrappers and banana peels) so that you don't accidentally litter on the beach. When you come inside, just drop it in your trash can. It's not fancy, but it helps.
2. Jumpster: This bit of strategery (courtesy of my friend D) doesn't work so well if it's really windy on the beach (ahem, not that we learned this the hard way or anything, but you really don't want the tent to blow away in a strong gust). But if you've got an infant who likes bouncing in the jumpster, consider bringing it down to the beach and hanging it from your tent poles. It'll keep your baby entertained and away from all that tempting sand. And if your baby doesn't like it, use it as a handy place to keep snacks out of the sand and easy to reach.
3. 3-in-1 wash: One of the hardest things about being at the beach with little kids is getting them sand-free when it's time to come in. I like to keep a bottle of 3-in-1 wash (shampoo, conditioner and body wash) at the outside shower/hose. Soaping them up all over makes it easier to slide the sand (and most of the sunscreen) off of their crunchy, sticky little bodies. And by washing them outside, it keeps more of the sand out of the house.
4. Burrito lunch: Now that my kids are old enough to go all day without a nap (and with a deliciously easy, early bedtime), we had lunch on the beach. But no matter what I tried, their turkey or almond-butter-and-jelly sandwiches always looked sandy and crunchy. Then I made burritos for dinner one night and wrapped the leftovers in foil. Voila -- the perfect leftovers for a beach lunch because you keep your sandy hands on the foil and just unwrap as you go. Would work with sandwich wraps as well.
5. Plastic pool: Last year I showed you how to build your own pool right in the sand. But this year our friends S&J brought one of those hard plastic pools with them. The pool served many important purposes during the week: a fun splash area for the kids to play in; a storage container to corral all the shovels, buckets and toys at the end of each day; and (most impressively) an aquarium space for the live marine animals that J found in the surf. Yes, that's a giant clam arm-foot-tongue thingy twisting out of its shell in that photo.

Your turn to share -- what are you must-do, must-have tips for parents with kids at the beach?

Beach 5 posts:
- Things I Should Have Packed
- Simple Gifts

Beach 5: Things I Should Have Packed

As my friend Julie at Simplify Your Life will tell you, every mom (or dad) needs a packing list for the beach. Not one that you scribble on post-it notes the night before your trip, but a real organized list that you save and use every year. And if you go back to the same rental house each time, you know what to expect and what you need to bring.

After polling our beach friends, I think the most important thing we could add to the list would be an afternoon chef who would prepare dinner each night and bring it out to the beach for us so that we don't have to go inside until dark. And a waiter, to bring us drinks and fresh juice boxes.

Those two might be awkward (not to mention expensive) to pack -- so here are five more practical things we need to add to the list for next year:

1. Kitchen knives: The knives at our house are terrible. It's a wonder I haven't lost a finger tip just trying to make a straight cut through an apple. Packing a good paring knife and one big cooking knife would make me much happier and wouldn't take up much space in the luggage.
2. Nice pan: For my friend D, it would be her all-clad pans. For me, it's my Scanpan (thanks, Mom!). Whether I'm trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches or a vegetable stir-fry, the crappy, peeling pans at our house are a mess. Again, one pan won't take up much room and would make a more successful dinner.
3. Small table: Okay, so this one might not seem as easy to pack -- but a small folding one should work. And it would be so lovely to have somewhere to set your mai tai when you're on the beach so that your glass doesn't accidentally get knocked over in the sand (the horror!).
4. Clothesline with pins: No, it's not glamorous. But when your wardrobe revolves around three items (a dry swim suit, a wet swim suit and pajamas), you really need to be sure those suits get dry quickly. Hanging things off the rail or the deck chairs will suffice, but it gets to be a mess.
5. Rechargeable batteries: Our digital camera burns through batteries at a breakneck pace when we're at the beach (perhaps because we take literally hundreds of photos). Bringing a charger and batteries would make me feel much more environmentally friendly while I let Pippi wander around taking photos of her feet.

What important items are on your beach packing list each year?

Beach 5 posts:
- Tips for Parents
- Simple Gifts

Beach 5: Simple Gifts

Re-entry is a bitch.

After washingdryingputtingaway five loads of laundry, unloading the dishwasher, unpacking most of four suitcases and countless bags, clearing the answering machine and sifting through a week's worth of junk mail, we're all back to work and school again. But having just spent a blissful six-and-a-half days at the beach, I guess I really shouldn't complain.

In order to pretend that I'm still at the beach, each of this week's posts will include a "Beach 5" list. I figure I didn't post at all last week, so hopefully you can tolerate three posts this week. So here goes...

Being able to enjoy that annual week at the beach with my little family of four is a gift -- possibly one of the greatest gifts of the year. And as if that weren't enough on its own, I count the following among the additional gifts I received last week:

1. Beautiful weather: Hurricane Irene threatened to ruin everything, but ultimately made landfall north and east of our beach. As it turned out, we had perfectly sunny skies for seven straight days and no significant damage left behind. Not sure if we were blessed or lucky or both, but I'll take it.

2. Family photos: This year I took 734 pictures over the course of our beach week (although some of those were Pippi running off with the camera). That's not counting all the photos of us taken by friends or the pictures my husband took on his phone. It sounds excessive, but I love having the time to capture my children (and my husband) in their element. And this year a talented new friend with a fancy camera took some extra photos of us that are just beautiful.

3. Date night: Another friend at the beach voluntarily came over to our house after the kids went to bed so that my husband and I could have a date night. As in, just the two of us on our own all by ourselves at our favorite beach restaurant after dark. As in, hasn't happened in more than six years. What a treat!

4. Play time: Our kids are never happier than when they're at the beach. They get to be free all day, eat fruit snacks and chips non-stop, drink juice boxes until they pee in the ocean, get sandy dirty, run wild with their friends -- and no one tells them to "be quiet sit still don't touch that wipe your face" for most of an entire week. Plus we're the beneficiaries of great friends who have a combined eight children for them to run around with -- and parents who do cool things like fishing, egg tosses, corn hole, beach yoga and sea life pools. It's kid heaven.

5. Time with friends: In you case you hadn't noticed the theme, a big part of what makes our beach week so special is the families who have joined us for six years now. We met by accident, but have remained friends by very conscious choice (and careful planning) -- their friendship is truly a gift. In addition to the fact that they and their children help entertain our children (which is blessing enough), they are kind, funny, intelligent, curious, interesting people who will talk and read and laugh and make mai tais and just plain sit on the beach until dark.

Thank you for these simple, wonderful gifts. Only 354 days until we'll be together again in the sand.


Beach 5 posts:
- Tips for Parents
- Things I Should Have Packed
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The Weather Is Here, Wish It Were Beautiful

You see that little star, just at the top left of that ugly looking hurricane?

That's my vacation.

I'm trying hard not to complain. With any luck, we'll just miss a day or maybe two and still have a lovely (albeit shortened) week ahead. I should just be grateful that my home and my livelihood aren't bracing in the path of Irene's mess. And after a decade of last August and early September beach trips, I guess we were due for a big storm

But damn it! I still want to have a little temper tantrum and shake my useless fists at the weather map. Grrrrr.

Think I liked it better when the only hurricane I had to worry about was this one.
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Camping: A Timeline

That's me and my husband at our campsite earlier this month -- photography by Junius, or maybe Pippi. Give or take a few minutes, here's how our first family-of-four camping trip went down:

11:30 a.m. - Leave Raleigh for a two-night camping trip.
12:00 - Stop for lunch at Smithfield's in Clayton.
12:10 - Get back in the car with way too much food.
12:15 - Begin answering the eternal question, "Are we there yet?"
[I'll spare you the itemized count of how many annoying questions we got along the drive.]

3:15 p.m. - Arrive at the ranger station for Hammocks Beach State Park.
3:30 - Leave our car in the parking lot. Load ourselves plus one jogger stroller, one large pack, two large tents, one large duffle bag, one large tote bag, two small backpacks and one cooler onto the ferry. Realize we have a metric ton of stuff to carry.
3:45 - Arrive at Bear Island and disembark the ferry. Eye dark, looming clouds and pray it doesn't storm.
3:47 - Begin walking the half-mile trail to the beach. Thank the heavens and our sweet neighbor for the jogger stroller we borrowed because we've loaded half a ton of stuff into it. Pippi is walking.
4:01 - Arrive at the beach. Buy cold drinks and chips at the snack house. Curse the discovery that they don't sell any other food on the island. Pee while we're at the bath house.
4:19 - Start walking the next half-mile to our reserved campsite. Redistribute the half ton of stuff onto Daddy so that Pippi can ride in the stroller. Thank the heavens for a strong Daddy.

4:36 p.m. - Arrive at the sign for our campsite. Climb past the protected turtle nest, over the dune and down into the valley to our picnic table and tent area. Marvel at how beautiful and quiet it is.

4:47 p.m. - Commence Operation Tent Set Up. Marvel at how patient Daddy is about letting the kids help.
5:18 - Decide we can help Daddy more by going down to the beach.

5:26 p.m. - Decide that I love beach camping because we have the whole place to ourselves and my children are so happy that they pretend to surf. They race in and out of the water's edge in complete bliss. I forget all my worries.
6:14 - Climb back over to our campsite. Make sandwiches and fruit for dinner. Wonder if we brought enough food.
6:58 - Walk back down to the beach. Because we can. Because it's right there. Because it's still light out and we know these kids are not going to fall asleep yet.
7:45 - Realize we're going to wear out before they do. Corral kids down to the bath house for showers and pajamas. Carry them back to the campsite in a futile attempt to keep them from getting sandy.

9:15 p.m. - Daddy emerges from the tent victorious in the battle of Kids vs. Sleep. We enjoy the quiet darkness before trying to brush the sand from our feet and squeezing into the tent to join them.

12:35 a.m. - I climb out of the tent to pee. In the dune, of course, because no way am I walking a half-mile alone in the dark to use the bath house. Lean back into the tent, brush the sand off my feet, rearrange myself next to my family and fall back to sleep.
12:40 - Unbeknownst to the rest of the family, Daddy decides we will only be staying one night.
2:15  - I get up to pee again. Dune, brush, rearrange, sleep.
4:23  - Curse my post-maternity bladder. Get up to pee. Again.

5:45 a.m. - Pippi sits straight up, smiles and declares, "Good morning, Daddy!"
5:45:30 - Junius bounces up and announces "I love beach camping!"
5:45:45 - We pretend to be sleep, hoping desperately that they're both talking in their sleep. It doesn't work.
5:53 - My husband turns to me and says, "I'm just going to say this out loud. We don't have to stay the second night." I am both amazed (because things were going better than I expected) and relieved (because I wasn't sure how long we could last).

6:12 a.m. - We walk down to the beach to watch the sunrise. It's beautiful and peaceful and magical enough to make us forget (for a moment) how tired we are.
6:45 - Return to campsite for breakfast. Fight off hungry bees.

6:55 a.m. - Junius writes in his track-out journal: "I see Trtll Eggs. Thea are in a Net. I like it. I saw The sun Rise today." He draws an adorable picture of a turtle ("Trtll") beside a little cage with circles in it, more or less like the protected nest at the entrance to our campsite.

7:21 a.m. - Pippi entertains herself with the digital camera and her newly acquired shell collection.

7:38 - Walk down to the bath house so I can wash my hands and remove the sandcastle that has wedged itself under my left contact lens.

8:02 - Walk back to our campsite, this time with the ability to see where I'm going.

10:07 a.m. - I attempt to teach the kids how to make drip castles while regaling them with stories of how their Pop Pop used to teach me when I was a kid. End up making drip castles alone until they are crashed by the rising tide.
11:35 - Scavenge for lunch from what's left in the cooler. Trust that the squishy Babybel cheese is still safe to eat. Thank husband for deciding to head home early so that we don't have to go back over on the ferry to buy more groceries to bring back over to the campsite.

1:17 p.m. - Engage in major battle with Pippi about wearing her sun hat. Laugh at how adorable Junius looks in his sun hat -- like a sandy little member of the French Legion. Note to self that dermatologist would be proud of us (okay, maybe not of my swimsuit, but I am COATED in sunscreen).
2:15 - Begin packing up all our stuff. Wonder how we will find the energy to carry it all back to the ferry. Wish we had brought a strong, child-free friend with us to help.
3:15 - Loaded like pack mules and grateful (again) for the jogger-stroller-turned-luggage-wagon, we start back down the beach toward the bath house.
3:21 - Realize we'll never make the ferry if Pippi has to walk. Redistribute load from the stroller so that Pippi can ride. Force her to hold the clean bath towels because there's nowhere else to put them.
3:23 - Fuss at Pippi for letting the clean bath towels fall into the sand.

3:24 p.m. - Realize that Pippi is down for the count (note the puffy cheeks and pouty lip).
3:36 - Rinse off in the outdoor showers at the bath house, change the kids out of their swim suits and race off down the path toward the ferry.
3:52 - Board the ferry. Breathe.

If you've actually made it through this whole timeline, I'll reward you by wrapping up quickly: load into the car, find a restaurant for dinner, marvel at Junius as he scarfs down a plate full of fried shrimp without taking a breath, cruise through Swansboro, drive back to Raleigh, unload the car, crash in our comfy, mostly-sand-free, fully air-conditioned beds.

Success.
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Camping: A Personal History

If you've ever met me, you probably know that nothing about me suggests I'm a camper. Happy, yes. But not a camper.

I have, on a few occasions with varying degrees of success, attempted to play a camper on TV. Or, more accurately, at a campsite.

Hanging Rock, 1991

Car camping. The way nature intended for us to camp. Freshly graduated from high school, my girlfriends and I drive up to our campsite, unload 47 bags (I'm just estimating), hike around the trails, lounge near the waterfalls in our bikinis, stay up too late talking, and use the bath house for showering and fixing our hair.
Verdict: Camping success. But no need to do it on a regular basis.

Somewhere around Nantahala, 1997

In an attempt to be way cooler than I actually am, I foolishly agree to go on a white water rafting/camping expedition with a high school group being supervised by some of my friends and fellow teachers. I borrow some gear and miserably fake my way through the whole trip, including hiking in to our campsite carrying everything with us. The constant rain and chill dampen my spirits (and my hair) beyond repair.
Verdict: Camping fail. Nothing good can come of sleeping in cold rain.

Outer Banks, 2001

My sweet fiance (at the time) persuades me that beach camping is the best. Being a lifelong beach girl and devoted bride, I believe him. We drive from DC to the Outer Banks with no air conditioning on the hottest August day of the year, arriving at our campsite in time for a brutally icy shower before dinner. After a sleepless night battling bugs and sweat, my husband-to-be declares he's packing up the tent and doesn't speak to me for the next several hours. We go to a hotel and sulk for the second night of the trip.
Verdict: Camping fail. Thankfully we still got married six weeks later.

Hammocks Beach, 2011

Only my lovely son could persuade me to try beach camping again -- and only he could convince his dad to let me. So last week, at Junius' request, we took our first full-family camping trip. My husband, to his great credit, spent time and money ensuring that we'd be prepared for success. Will have to write more later about the lessons we learned, but how could I not love a trip that included this:

Verdict: Camping success. Just don't push your luck past one night.
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Friday's 5: Selecting Hats

Because I can't seem to make my wound heal any faster (turns out I've got a staph infection, so I'm taking an antibiotic FOUR TIMES A DAY FOR TEN DAYS), I'm focusing now on how to prevent any more skin damage. I've decided it's finally time to embrace the hat.

So I ordered five hats from Zappos. Just as Zappos' return policy is genius for online shoe ordering, it is equally brilliant for selecting hats. Now I need some advice from you on which ones to keep. But first, a few caveats...

• I took these photos myself, which was a little tricky given how big the brims are on some of these hats. My arms are long, but they're not Inspector-Gadget-long or anything.
• With the lump of bandage on my forehead, I can't get the hats all the way down on my enormous head. And when I try to do it anyway, it hurts. We'll just have to pretend for now.
• Looking at pictures of myself is one of my least favorite activities. Let's just focus on the hats, shall we?

And here, in order of brim size (more or less), are the hats:

1. Lightweight bucket hat: I love the super lightweight fabric on this hat -- some kind of magical Columbia sportswear fabric. The brim is smaller in the back, so it doesn't bump against my neck. And if I could actually pull it down on my forehead, I think it will give more shade in the front. Is the color too bright? Or cute and summery? Maybe hard to tell online.

2. Big brim bucket hat: I'm just going to go ahead and tell you, this hat is going back. It looks so terrible on my that I couldn't even get a decent picture. It's too shallow and won't sit down far enough on my big ol' head, even without the bandage. A shame, really, because it seems very pack-able.

3. Taupe ribbon hat: I had high hopes for this hat, but it just doesn't seem right. Not sure why, but I couldn't get it to bend evenly  so that it would sit straight. But the little ribbon lines are very cute, so maybe it's worth trying?

4. Tan ribbon hat: Much easier to bend than #3, this hat is very light and has a bendable wire edge to help it hold its shape. But is the color too light for my pale skin?

5. XL brim brown hat: This hat is so big that I honestly wasn't sure I could capture it all in the picture -- it shades not only my face, but also my entire shoulders. When I put it on the first time, Pippi stopped in her tracks and said breathlessly, "Mommy! That hat is FANCY!" I want to believe it's very Audrey Hepburn, but someone else in my house (who will remain nameless) made sombrero references when I pulled it out of the box. Too much? Or just the sort of glamour my poor head needs?

Okay, readers -- help me out here. What do I keep and what do I return? Or if you've got better hat options I should consider, leave me some links in the comments.
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Capture the Everyday: Sign that Summer is Coming

Due to some unknown Blogger difficulty, this post got deleted yesterday. Grrr. Reposting, for your summertime reading/viewing pleasure.

Summer. 

Even though it's cool and rainy today, I know it's coming. Thank goodness.

How do I know is on its way?

Tuesday marked the inaugural slip-n-slide play date in our yard. The hose water was cold, but the sun was shining and the kids were flying.

Makes you wish you were a kid again, doesn't it?

How about you? What sign do you see that summer is on its way?

Capture the Everyday is about getting you to capture those everyday moments in your life! Each Thursday, Melissa at Adventuroo will issue a simple challenge to capture something that’s a part of your daily life. You can post just a picture or add some words to go along with it. You’ll have a week to get it done and then she’ll issue another. It’s a quick, easy way to start capturing those little parts of life we sometimes take for granted.

What Happened to Your Head?! Or, Why I Wear Sunscreen

Yes, that's my forehead.

I got these stitches over the weekend in Pakistan.

Would tell you more, but without appropriate security clearance I'd have to kill you.

Okay, okay. It was actually pint glass to the head during a pub brawl after Wills & Kate got married. You should see the other guy.

All right, fine. I got attacked by the dermatologist. Skin surgeon, to be exact. My second time having Mohs (rhymes with "nose") surgery on my forehead. Don't really recommend it, but it's better than letting a basal cell carcinoma turn into some other more frightening form of cancer.

I blame Garden City Beach, SC, summer of 1987. Me in my first teen-age bikini -- floral, with ruffles (it was the 80s, after all, and I needed the help). He was tall and thin with a great smile. We spent a couple hours talking and flirting in the ocean, no sunscreen to protect my face from the bright sunshine and the even brighter reflection off the water.

When I woke up the next day with a headache, I looked in the mirror to find my purple, blistered forehead had swollen to twice its normal size. The bad news: my parents wouldn't let me out of the beach house during peak sun hours. The good news: the boy still thought I was cute enough to send me a mix tape (Guns N' Roses, Metallica and U2, 'cause he was that cool) when he got back home.

Now, more than two decades later, I'm paying the price.

So in case you needed a reminder to wear sunscreen and hats this summer, take another look at those stitches. I can promise you the boys do not think they're a turn-on. Thankfully, my husband loves me, even when I'm wounded.
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Saving Summers at Governor's School

Do you remember when you knew you weren't a kid anymore?

I don't mean losing your virginity or buying your first beer -- I mean the moment when you knew you were a person who would actually turn into a grown-up responsible for your own choices, someone who existed beyond the space of your family.

For me, that moment was in July 1990 at St. Andrew's Presbyterian College, where I attended Governor's School East. It was the summer before my senior year of high school -- the first summer I'd spent away from home, the first time I'd had a roommate, the first time I went somewhere and didn't know anyone. (Also, the first time I fell for an older guy, but that's another story.)

Thinking back, I'm not even sure how to explain it all. But I can remember very clearly sitting at night on the campus tennis courts (there wasn't a lot to do in Laurinburg, which was probably a good thing) talking with a friend who I'd just met a few weeks earlier but who seemed to have always been there. And there, sitting beside the service line, I had this out-of-body, existential sort of teen moment.

Somehow, without my parents around and without all the familiar trappings of my own room or locker or school friends, I suddenly realized that I existed separate from all those things. Like I was floating out into some parallel universe. And yet, all those people -- and the objects I'd left behind -- were still there, going on living without me.

And for a moment, I forgot who I was. Lost track of the me that had always been there, the one that belonged to those other people and places -- and I realized I was someone else. Instead of daughter, student, sister or friend, I was simply and independently Me.

It sounds a bit ridiculous when I write it down like that, but I've been thinking about that moment a lot lately.

You see, the North Carolina legislature (like governments across the country) is slashing through the budget to try to make the state's ends meet. And one way they've proposed to do that is to end all funding for Governor's School.

While I recognize the difficulties our legislators are facing, I know that cutting the funding allotted for this fantastic program will do much more harm than good. By eliminating the oldest statewide summer residential program for academically or intellectually gifted high school students in the nation, North Carolina would save $849,588 -- a drop in the $2.4 billion deficit. Meanwhile, 800 students each year from across the state will miss one of the great opportunities to explore life, learning and culture beyond the walls of their own schools and communities.

One of the things that made Governor's School so impressive is that it was, until very recently, free for students to attend. That meant that any student who was nominated and selected by his or her district -- not just those whose parents could afford it -- could attend. If state funding is reduced or removed and students have to pay to attend, the program will no longer be accessible to all. And that fact will change the very nature of the program.

Those six weeks in 1990 changed me in ways I cannot explain. It was without a doubt the absolute best thing I could have done that summer.

If you had a similar experience in high school or just value this sort of program, I encourage you to take a moment and let the North Carolina legislature know -- start with the House and Senate committees on education appropriation or just write to your own representatives. Our state can do better -- and our students deserve more.
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Wordless Wednesday: Heaven Serves the ProCo Shrimp Burger

From Holden Beach's Provision Company

Friday's 5: Signs of Fall

I realize it's not Friday anymore, but I got a note from a friend (who, by the way, manages to keep up with two blogs and three children) on Friday evening asking what happened to the Friday's 5. "Those are always my favorite posts," she said. Well, flattery will get you everywhere, my dear. It's a day late, but hopefully not a dollar short.

The temps for most of this week have been in the upper 80s and low 90s -- and the forecast for next week looks just as toasty. For some of you, this weather might be making it hard to tell that summer is over.

So just in case you're confused, here are five signs from my house that fall has arrived:

1. I've washed all the beach/pool towels, folded them and tucked them away for next year. Sure, we might make it to the indoor pool now and then, but there's no need to have six towels stacked by the front door now that our neighborhood pool is closed for the season.
2. We've run out of limes. That means we're about to finish off the gin and tonics for the season -- it's our spring/summer drink of choice, but we're inclined toward a nice 7&7 in the fall/winter.
3. Our produce box is on hiatus. They take a two-week break to shift gears from summer veggies to the fall menu, so we're on our own until October. Thinking this will be a good time to use up all those skillet meals I've stashed in the freezer from sales at Harris Teeter.
4. Even thought it's been warm during the day, it cools off enough at night that we can sleep with the A/C off and the windows open. Best. Sleep. Ever.
5. Today we went to the Caniac Carnival, a sure sign that hockey (and fall) is on the way. To be honest, I really don't care so much about hockey -- but being in Raleigh more or less automatically makes us Canes fans, and Junius really loves it. As it turned out, the carnival was super fun and a great way to spend a (hot) fall Saturday -- not to mention that Juni and Pip got invited to be in a group photo with the team (see photo above).

That's what the forecast shows over at our house -- what signs of fall do you see where you live?

Saturday Strategery: When You Want to Relax on the Beach

I remember vaguely fondly the pre-kids beach vacation days. You know, back when I would sleep until 10, have a bowl of cereal, then wander down to the beach to stretch out on a towel and read for hours in the sun. Rinse, nap and repeat. Glorious.

Life at the beach with two small children sets a very different agenda. Given that both Junius and Pippi like to be up to thank the sun for rising each day, there's not much I can do about wanting to sleep in. And as much as I love running around with them in the sand and surf and watching them fall in love with the beach, I still miss the days spending lounging with a book.

Then last week we discovered a way to improve the ratio of time spent sitting and reading to time spent splashing and chasing. I have give my friend Ashley full credit for this idea -- it's pure genius.

• Step 1: Dig a big hole in the sand. Preferably, put your husband and older child to work on this step.
• Step 2: Line the hole with a plastic shower curtain.
• Step 3: Fill the lined hole with water. This is a great opportunity to put your kids (and all their beach buddies) to work using the score of buckets you brought with you to the beach.
• Step 4: Load toys, mermaids, shells and buckets in and around the pool.
• Step 5: Place your children in the pool.
• Step 6: Pull your chair into the general vicinity of the pool. Sit your self down, lean back and bask in the brilliance while the kids entertain themselves.

For more Saturday Strategy, like what do to when your toddler poops in the tub or covers your carpet with parmesan cheese, check out these posts.

A Mudcats Comedy of Errors

This past Sunday, we planned a family outing to see a minor league baseball game -- sounds like the perfect summer evening, right? I mean, what could possibly go wrong at a Mudcats game?

Well, where do I start?

Maybe with the rain, that ruined the first game we tried to see three weeks ago. After driving through a few light showers on our way out to Five County Stadium (Groupon in hand, of course), we discovered that the afternoon game was cancelled.

But as annoying as that trip was, it was only the beginning of our Mudcats mishaps. Here's a snapshot of all the things that went wrong when we tried again this past Sunday night:

• There was the parking attendant who tried to keep our change for the parking pass.
• Then we got the second parking attendant who told us we'd parked badly (even though we'd done just fine).
• And in case that wasn't enough, we met the third parking attendant (sent to track us down by the second parking attendant) who took my husband back to the car and made him move it back 18 inches.
• Once inside, the people sitting in our reserved seats furnished tickets with the exact same seat numbers on them, although he cleverly held his finger over the date on the tickets. Then my sweet husband went down to the box office, asked for four new tickets and declined to have the other people thrown out -- sadly the seats weren't as good and it took us a walk around the entire park to find them.
• They only sell hot dogs at certain concession areas, not all. Which seems ridiculous, since I go to baseball games specifically for hot dogs (not pizza or chicken sandwiches). After waiting in a very long line (made even longer because they didn't seem prepared to actually serve any hot dogs at the end of the 2nd inning) and handing over every single dollar in our pockets (because they only took cash and over-charged for every item), the hot dogs tasted more microwave than grill. Average at best and very disappointing.
• Did I mention that the rather active smoking area was parked beside the food line we were standing in? 
• After walking around the entire park, arms filled with food, drinks and children, we finally arrived at our new seats. Which were filled. Again. Thankfully there was an usher there this time to shoo the offenders back into their own seats. Which they were quite annoyed about.
• As we filed into our row near 3rd base, exhausted by the effort, we looked down to see the floor littered with peanuts and peanut shells crunching under the feet of our peanut-allergic son.

At this point, I looked at my husband with a desperate attempt at a smile and said, "I'm telling you now. If I get hit with a foul ball, it's over. We will be on national television, and I better get paid well for my 15 minutes of fame."

Thankfully, we left without further incident at the 7th inning stretch and made it safely home in time to tuck the kids in bed and fall out on the couch.

In defense of the Mudcats operation, everyone on staff inside the park was very courteous and helpful. But sadly it wasn't enough to make me want to go back any time soon. Guess it's just as well that the season is over -- gives me time to recover before spring training.

Wordless Wednesday: Vacation Perfection

Screen shot from weather.com.

Grocery Shopping for a Cause

I complain a fair amount about grocery shopping. Generally speaking, it's not my favorite activity -- it always takes longer and costs more than I expect. Adding kids to the mix doesn't help any -- between Pippi tossing her shoes overboard when I'm not looking or trying to wiggle out of the cart and Junius knocking things off the shelf and asking for every product featuring a Toy Story character, it's not a peaceful trip. Top that off with a complicated new two-story Harris Teeter and I'm about ready to stop shopping altogether.

But even as I'm complaining, I realize how fortunate I am to be able to buy groceries every week for my family. Thanks to suggestions from friends, we decided to recognize our good fortune by hosting a mini food drive for the Kids Summer Stock program at the Food Bank of Central & Eastern North Carolina. The program provides summertime food for students who receive free and reduced-price breakfast and lunch during the school year -- for the thousands of students who qualify for those school meals, no school means no meals.

For our recent neighborhood Third Friday Happy Hour, we simply asked friends to bring some items on the most-needed list -- we collected all the food at our house and delivered it the following week. And with less time and effort than it takes me to find my way through the grocery store, we were able to deliver 50 pounds of food to the Food Bank.

Whether you love or hate grocery shopping -- or even if you're lucky enough not to have to do it -- I encourage you to make time for a mini food drive in your neighborhood, office, church or other group. It's easy to do, but it can make a world of difference for a family in need.

The Kids Summer Stock food drive is a great program, but I do still like to complain. Check out my Open Letter to Harris Teeter at North Hills East over at Triangle Mamas. And if anyone from Harris Teeter is reading this, please send more coupons -- I used my last $20 coupon yesterday.

I Love It When a Movie Comes Together

I'm a sucker for a good ol' fashioned summer action flick. But when I saw this preview at the movies recently, I was beyond excited.


A-team Official Trailer

I'm not exactly sure why I loved this show so much as a kid, although I know part of it was the huge crush I had on "Face" (along with MacGuyver, Lee Stetson and Bo Duke). And I do love it when a plan comes together.

Anyone want to join me on June 11?

The Perfect Storm

In the weeks leading up to our beach trip, I was increasingly nervous that our annual vacation would be ruined by a hurricane. The summer's weather had been strangely quiet despite predictions of a rough season, so I feared Mother Nature was storing up for a disastrous storm.

As it turned out, the weather was mostly beautiful while we were at the beach. But I was right to be worried -- although it may not have made the news where you are, there was a big coastal tempest by the name of Hurricane Pippi:

Hurricane Pippi brought sunny skies and nice breezes, but also 5 a.m. wake-up calls, nap strikes and perpetual motion accompanied by serious teething. When she wasn't chasing the sea gulls or running into the ocean, she was attempting to remove her swimsuit, rolling in the sand, stealing our friends' snacks, yelling at the top of her lungs and tasting shells.

And as if that weren't enough, there was the Friday evening adventure to urgent care to check her wrist that may or may not have been sprained by her mother (who was holding Pippi's hand and jerked on her arm to keep her from sticking the other hand in a bag of poopy diaper -- you know the move because you've done it a million times before). She was fine by bedtime, but her anguished sobs and complete refusal to use her left hand had us scared for a few hours.

All in all, it was a wonderful vacation with family and friends. But now I need a week to recover from Hurricane Pip. Thank goodness preschool starts on Wednesday!
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