Frozen Joy

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Last week, we were ushered into California by the whimsical music of a local ice cream truck. My son’s eyes widened with curiosity, for he had never heard such a sound.

“What’s that, Mommy?!”

The truth is, we were all pretty excited for a two-week adventure in California. My husband would do research, and the kids and I would seek out new experiences with Bay Area friends.

But children will be children…and there will be messes.

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To Climb a Mountain

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If you’re not careful, you’ll come to fear everything when you’re a mother.

I was reminded of this most recently during an active shooter training at the university where I work. It was a brilliant idea, really: listen to 90 minutes of gunshots and panic protocol two days before flying across the country with an infant and a toddler.

But the problem with ideas is that they are powerful and nearly impossible to derail. My worries about protecting two children in California only increased as our departure grew near.

Who will try to steal my kids when I am not looking?

Will I survive Bay Area traffic?

And, perhaps most outrageously, will I die in a mass shooting?

Things grew grim. And I’m not going to lie – the leash backpack was pretty tempting.

Somehow, amazingly, I mustered the strength to silence my mentally constructed catastrophes long enough to allow our family to board the plane.

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