Santa Cruzin' On a Friday Afternoon...

Oh, when the sun beats down and burns the tar up on the roof

And your shoes get so hot you wish your tired feet were fire-proof

Under the boardwalk, down by the sea

On a blanket with my baby, is where I'll be.

The Date

Teddy, age  5, (neighbor and grandson of our landlords) shows up at our door on his John Deere 12V Gator. “Can I take Isabella for a drive?” he asks. Now normally we don’t let Isabella go out on a weekday night, but then again, it was 7 pm, the witching hour, and frankly, we needed someone to take her off our hands. Happily, we gave our consent. Upon request, Mark helped load two shovels in the battery operated tractor. We then watched out the window as Teddy drove Isabella across the driveway to the freshly dug up dirt patch--where they commenced to dig for treasure. This wasn’t just any ol’ outing, this was Isabella’s dream date. Chaperone Mark was called out once to help back the tractor out of some deep dirt, but soon the two happy clams were back shoveling and digging and burying to their hearts’ content--until Teddy was called home for supper. 

He’s been back pretty much every night, since. I guess he's met his match.

A Grand Reception

A few weekends ago, we attended the wedding reception of Katie and Nic Hoggan. And let me tell you, they've set the bar pretty high. Here's my new list of criteria for what makes a reception great:
1. An adorable bride and groom
2. Being surrounded by people you love--and have missed seeing!
3. A beautiful and simple location
4. A photo booth with a professional photographer and props.

First up, the adorable couple -having their cake, and eating it too. They met in Hawaii. They have a wonderful love story, and they are the nicest people you will ever meet.

Katie the Bride

 2. Old friend, Laurie Telles. Husband Matt Telles, wasn't able to be there, but she flew in from the East Coast and we got to catch up a bit, which was such a treat.

 3. Cute husband, sitting on couch with cute baby in the home where the reception was held. So, I didn't get too many location pictures, but we were at Katie's aunt and uncle's house in Walnut Creek. Beautiful home, beautiful backyard with a pool. Perfect place for a wedding reception.

Isabella got her boogie on while eating one of the many confections of the party.  Although I didn't ask her, I'm pretty sure her criteria for a great wedding reception would look something like this:
1. Cake pops
2. Spencer (the recent high school graduate, and cousin of the bride, who so graciously played games with the little kids in the front yard.)
3. A dance floor
4. A photo booth, where you can dress in costumes and have your picture taken.

4. We wanted to get our family picture taken, but while Mark and I were busy picking out our props, Isabella, unbeknownst to us, slipped passed us to take a few solo shots:

We finally caught up with her.

I'm pretty sure this year's Christmas card is in here somewhere.

At some point during the evening, we lost track of Isabella--until evidence of her whereabouts surfaced...

First stop was the photo booth. We eventually found her out in the front yard playing tag with Spencer and the other kids. She seriously thought it was the funnest party ever.

The trip home wasn't so bad either. Since Isabella already had nothing but sugar coursing through her veins, we decided to pile on a little more. A Krispy Kreme doughnut shop was just off the highway. I knew she'd love it and since we hadn't been to one since living back East, we decided to stop --at 9:30 at night. Oh the pure joy. She loved watching the doughnuts being made. She made friends. She wore the hat. She ate her doughnut. Shockingly, she fell asleep before we got home.

Lamb Skaters,Taxis, and Dirt Cake

Our landlords, who live right next door to us, decided to re-do their front yard. For two solid weeks the "lamb skaters" showed up early every morning with their trucks and machinery, and bulldozed and hauled and planted and beautified. And every morning Isabella would run outside to greet the lamb skaters and talk to them about everything that came into her head--even if they were using their heavy equipment and had earphones on.  I eventually had to lock her in the side yard with instructions to limit her salutations so the men could do their work. The culminating event took place on their last day of work, when they cut down an olive tree in our front yard. Mom pulled the piano bench to the window and snacks were provided. Isabella squealed with glee as the tree came crashing down. The pieces were hauled away, the trucks were packed up, and just like that, the lamb skaters were gone. She still asks every morning if they are coming back...what ever will she do now?

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*Disclaimer: Please do not take offense to the politics of the next piece. It is not intended to be political, only to convey the cuteness that lies therein.

Allow me to set the scene...ahem. We're eating dinner and Mark, the generally-sensible-so-long-as-I(Katie)-keep-him-in-line Republican is particularly incensed about the Supreme Court's ruling on the healthcare bill. Since the day's news is the last thing I seem to get to these days, he is explaining to me the finer points of the court's decision, in particular, the part about how the bill was ruled constitutional so long as it is a tax to the American people. Tax. Tax, tax, taxes. A point he drove home over and over again.

Isabella, listening in to the conversation whilst eating her Baked Creamy Chicken Taquito, attempted several times to interject her two cents, or rather, to get the attention off politics and back on her. "Daddy! Daddy!" she called out, her voice getting louder.
"Isabella," I say, "say 'excuse me, Daddy' and that will get his attention"
She complies, and Mark turns his attention to her. "Yes Isabella?"
"Daddy, I have something to say. I like taxes. I really, really like taxes."
"Oh, yes?" Mark retorts. "Are you going to grow up and be a Democrat?"
Isabella flashes her best goofy I-am-going-to-pretend-I-know-what-you're-talking-about-but-I-am-only-four, grin and nods her head.
"What are you going to do with your taxes?" I ask.
She replies, "I'm going to drive them all around, when I'm older."

Go on, girl. Drive your taxes all around town. 
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 Family Night gem: A dirt cake as part of the lesson.

Not one ounce of nutritional value, but oh, so good. Like eating a chocolate cream pie out of a flower pot. And if you've never eaten a chocolate cream pie out of a flower pot...

The consumption of said dirt cake brought about a sugar high, which brought about oodles of giggles and a rhyming game between Mark and Isabella about the hazards of eating any and all things.

"If I eat dirt, my tummy will hurt!" 

and then,

"If I eat a bus, my tummy will fuss!" 

and so on, and so forth...

 Both were left in stitches in their own special way.

Father's Day

When Mark and I became friends--long before we ever began dating--he told me he'd pretty much ruled out marriage and having children. I wasn't convinced. I told him he just hadn't met the right person yet :) It's hard for me to even imagine he once thought that. He would have missed out on these two beautiful loves with their sparkling blue eyes. 

We spent Father's Day afternoon with my parents at Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. It was lovely.

 She loves the carousels...

 and the pretzels, of course.

 
 Good times. Good Dads. I love you Mark and Dad. Thank you for being such wonderful Fathers.