Fathers' Day

I always celebrate Valentines' Day with a teeny, tiny bit of disdain, not because I don't like chocolate and flowers, but because showering people that you love with treats on the fourteenth of February is fine; however, shouldn't you tell people how much you appreciate them more often than that?

I feel the same way about Fathers' Day. Celebrating Jake on the third Sunday in June doesn't do how I feel about him justice. Being a dad is quite a job - to balance and complement us crazy mothers. Yes, I am quite comfortable admitting that I am a crazy mom...and a mean one, I've been told. So, on Fathers' Day, I always plan something fun to say 'Thanks for being a great dad!' But I strive, throughout the year, to let him know that I know I couldn't do this thing called parenthood without him.

This year I reserved an access permit to a local park for a short hike. I figured that the boys wouldn't balk too much at a four-mile hike. We do that distance all the time. I hadn't counted on the grade and the long stretches without shade. I had hoped for breathtaking views. I hadn't anticipated that what would be visible from our trail would be the buildings, roads, golf courses, and homes along Carmel Valley. I definitely didn't think that we would be able to hear the roar of cars throughout almost the entire hike.

Suffice it to say: this was not the most peaceful hike we've ever done. But we did it as a family. And Jake enjoyed it. For that reason alone, we'll call it a success. Happy Fathers' Day, my Love.

My Day, My Choice

We don't just camp at our state parks, we spend lots and lots of time hiking in them as well. For Mothers' Day this year, I decided that I wanted to hike a trail we'd never been on before. So I picked the Ridge to Bluffs loop in Andrew Molera State Park in Big Sur. 8.8 miles seemed a reasonable distance. I didn't take into consideration the mile, each way, to and from the Ridge trailhead...or the fact that we had to cross the river.

So, we stripped down to our undies, crossed the river, then hiked almost 9 miles, then crossed the river again, and then hiked another mile back to the car. We barely made it back to town for our Mothers' Day dinner reservation with the Nonni. Whoops.

About three miles into the trek, Dylan demanded, "Did you pick this hike to torture us?" Sure did. I was kidding, but he sat down in the middle of the trail right then and there and cried. I picked him up, dusted him off, gave him a big hug and explained that I didn't want to torture him, but it was my day and it was my choice how I wanted to celebrate it.

We packed in lots of snacks - mini quiche, chocolate-dipped figs, brie, salami, carrots, cucumbers, and fresh berries. Jake even hauled in a bottle of sparkling wine and we had mimosas at the furthest beach in the park.

Happy Mothers' Day to me!