Some Friday evenings feel more deserved than others, and tonight feels good. I just pulled the elastic from the tight bun I’ve been wearing all day, and the week’s stresses fell with my hair. Soft waves, slightly damp but free. And since beer and coffee and the occasional refreshment of a Salty Dog are off the list (they all sound gross right now anyhow), I’ve restablished the art of the Cup of Tea. Yes, it’s capitalized because it’s very, very proper. Tonight it’s chamomile, piping hot, in a skinny tall mug that fits perfectly in the palm of my hand.

It was a text all call this morning for a let’s-blow-this-popsicle-stand. I didn’t feel fantastic, but I had to get out. And so did everyone else. So five mamas, a mini van, three cars, ten kids and one stroller set out for a day.

Nella’s really mad at Lainey for trying to headlock her in place for the photo


So she ran to Heidi and tattled (…and those “Positively Peaceful” windows…yeah, ya like that?)

Let me tell you what five mamas and ten kids out and about on a hot day looks like.

First, consider the location–Tin City, this electic, colorful collection of old tourist shops in tin-roofed buildings stretched along a boardwalk on the Naples Bay. There’s a narrow brick walkway inside and a nice smattering of shell shops, t-shirt joints, a fantastic homemade soap store, a candy shop with barrels of taffy and swirled rainbow lolipops and a few restaurants, one of which serves the best Greek salad this side of–well, Greece. And when you add our crew, it looks like a daycare stampede. It looks a little bit like a zoo without cages. Actually, it looks fantastic.

Lunch was awesome. Like eighty-six trips up to the cash register to order then add a water, add a fork, add some napkins, add an ice cream cone. And gawkers who stared in pity at the moms who wiped up messes and bent down to pick up the broken crayons and then stood back up to separate kids and put a lid on that drink and cut the food and wipe the ketchup off the bun.

Sprawled out across the tables were coloring books and cups, wadded napkins and a billion grains of salt that maybe spilled from a knocked-down shaker or perhaps–and more likely–were intentionally scattered for entertainment.

And while they ate and colored and discretely made salt snow storms, the mamas told stories and passed Ivy from one lap to another and declared these were the best Greek salads we’d ever eaten.

Perhaps numb from heat and a bit high on pungent feta, we made the decision to keep going. In the heat. With ice-cream wired kids. Twenty little feet scuffed their sandals and tripped on flip-flops across the wooden planks of the dock as mamas licked the salty sweat that beaded above our lips and drained our water bottles. Our kids were together and happy and, despite our discomfort, a unanimous satisfaction for those two qualities was unspoken yet present for all of us. Together. Happy.

The last of the ice cream buzz was worn off at the park where the parched woodchip floor was anything but comfortable but suitable for a place to finally sit down in the heat and watch the kids.

They chased each other in the spray of fountain mist, pushed each other on swings and yes, needed to be reminded of kindness and love. My friends and I talked about meltdowns and how we deal, what we’re good at in parenthood and how we struggle too. We have our moments, our kids have theirs.

It’s good that days aren’t perfect. It’s good that parenting is hard. Because it makes it even more important–this privilege of raising little human beings, of fiercely loving them, of learning more every day how to teach kindness, respect and responsibility.

Today wasn’t perfect by any means (although the salad was). But knowing this window of playdates and ice cream and coloring books on restaurant tables is small and fleeting makes me love it even more.

A little salt on tables? Pshaw.

We are together. And we are happy.

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Friday Photo Dump:

Friday Phone Dump photos are taken on the Instagram iPhone app (free) and dropped into a 12×12 collage using a photo editing software (Photoshop Elements works). I am @etst (enjoying the small things) on Instagram if you care to follow the feed.

And your #enjoyingthesmallthings photos. (If you use Instagram and have a photo that makes you happy, share it by using the hashtag #enjoyingthesmallthings. Yours may be chosen to be shared in a Friday post.)

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New sponsor, Allison MacPhail Photography, is offering a photography workshop in Montecito, California this November just for moms. If you’re interested in taking better photos of your children and learning more about your camera and editing, Allison’s 2-day workshop will cover all the basics.

The bonus? It all takes place at a beautiful beachfront home.

For more details or to register, visit Allison MacPhail Photography.

The weekend began, as good weekends do, spilling sunshine from blue skies. We went out for breakfast–my favorite out-to-eat meal–and dabbled in the art of weekend nothingness.

My Saturday gift came in the form of a trip to the hospital where I sat in my friend’s room and held her sweet new girl–seven hours old–and studied her features, ran my fingers over the cowlick of silky hair that hugged her perfect head, and inhaled the rare opportunity to experience the miracle of really new life. I speak fluent newborn, you know. And I could have sat in that room holding that baby all day.

Welcome to the world, Rowan!



But other babies called.

And today? It was gray. Not mysterious gray or depressing gray, but soft and calming stay-in kind of gray.

And while there are many different kinds of rains here–loud and thundrous downpours, beach storms, scattered showers–today, it rained soft and steadily. And it was cozy.

I can’t say the same for last night’s dramatic downpour that slammed windshields in blinding sheets and pounded roofs in a turbulent roar.

We braved the storm last night to head out to a bowling alley after one of those itches hit me out of nowhere. “Let’s go bowling.” Similar but less successful spontaneous itches in my past have included “I’m going to color my hair platinum,” “I’m going to sell Mary Kay,” and “I’m going to apply for a job at Victoria’s Secret.” These ended in purple fried hair, a closet full of make-up I never sold, and getting banned from ever being hired by any Limited company forevermore, respectively.

But bowling? Bowling delivered.

Lainey took right to the three-fingered grip of a bowling ball and quickly mastered the art of delivering a roll that would produce the least amount of momentum necessary to keep a ball moving. It took like three minutes for the ball to make it to the end of the lane, and then pins fell in sloooooowwww motttttiiiiiooon, one by one.

Insert victory dance.

But it was fun–being all holed up, literally, in a dark alley, while it rained and thundered outside.

Sister wanted only one thing–to break free from the shackles of her walker and high-tail it down the lane.

She got close once, but struck out, no pun intended. Okay, totally intended.

And I discovered some very important things one needs to know about bowling.

Things I Discovered About Bowling:

1) That alarm that beeps when your foot slips into the slick, waxed surface of the bowling lane? It’s there for a reason. You will fall. Hard. Like arms in the air and legs parallel to the ground kind of fall. Just ask my friend Andrea.

2) If you forget socks, you can buy them at a bowling alley. From a vending machine, and they’re only jacked up six times the regular cost of socks.

3) Bowling shoes are adorable. Keep telling yourself that.

4) Unlike golf, low scores don’t win. Shoot.

5) No matter how many times you try and will the music control guy to stop playing Nickelback, he won’t.

6) Wow, I really do know all the words to Phil Collins’ In the Air Tonight.

7.) Not everyone thinks it’s funny when you talk in a Southern accent all night and holler “Halleluia, sweet Baby Jesus” after anyone strikes.

8.) Waving your arms like this to make the ball go to the right does not make the ball go to the right.

9.) If you throw the ball so cockeyed, it bounces in another lane, someone will get it for you.

10.) Brett’s serious bowling stance is funny. Like I couldn’t stop laughing at my camera screen every time I caught him in a Neanderthal stretch.

11.) While waiting for your next turn to bowl, you can kill time by choreographing spare and strike victory dances, giving fake bowling lessons or impersonating Bowland tour guides even though there is no such thing as a Bowland tour. But if there was, it would begin with “Here at Bowland, we…” In a thick Southern accent, of course.

So there. Bet you’re glad you know that now. Bowl on.

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Congratulations to the Scentsy holiday warmer winner, Comment #180, the doc:<em> Big laughs tonight? Gathering with 2 friends at a university reunion remembering our college crushes and piecing together where they are now – some info real, some imagined. So serious at the time but a few decades out it is giggle-worthy!

doc, please send your contact info to [email protected] with “GIVEAWAY WINNER” in the subject line. Thank you!

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If anyone’s up for some Naples travel (does this entice you?), Bonita by the Beach is offering 20% off listed pricing from now until December 15th.

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And that leaves us at the end of this Monday night where I am wishing you a very happy week indeed.

We shall bake tomorrow. We shall bake and proclaim our love for a good fake Florida fall.