Houses?

Every Saturday and Sunday I pick up the paper outside the house and one of the first pages I turn to is the real estate ads. I don't know what attracts me? Is it the idea of a new life? Dissatisfaction with my current residence--which I shouldn't feel, I live in one of the most beautiful places in Boulder--Chautauqua Park. Is it the new feeling of responsibility that I should feel having a two-year old daughter whose stuff keeps growing. It's like the toys are mating with each other and producing more toys. So much stuff. As the toys expand--I guess I think of a place with more space, even though my wife emphasizes how people live in Europe or New York City. I try to remind her we are living in neither Europe nor New York City, but her argument still stands on: A smaller house brings families together. I guess that's true but what if you want a little space from your family?

Pony Pinata and Tears

Thought I'd start this off with a short entry entitled Pinatas and Tears. My daughter Cecilia turned two yesterday. We live in a beautiful spot--an idyllic bubble of wonder removed from the harsh reality of Boulder, Colorado which is it's own bubble. So we essentially live in a bubble within a bubble. The air is nice and the views spectacular.

We decided to host our party at the nearby park--for convenience and as our guest list grew, to avoid having to clean up our little house aftewards. Everything was going swimmingly until we started the Pinata portion of the party. We originally thought it would be a good idea to buy a huge white pony pinata. It was beautiful with white coat and pink mane and tail. To cap things off it had a nice rainbow emblem displayed proudly on its shoulder. As the day grew nearer I wondered if this would be the best choice. Would my daughter grow too attached? Would she rather keep it in her room? Would she freak out when the other kids started wacking it repeatedly with a stick to open up its candy guts?

Still, when we kicked it off everything went well. Cecilia smiled and took a few swings and watched happily as other kids did their part. Until one strong-armed seven year old disemboweled the pony with a deft swing--spilling candy, stickers, pencils and various other party favors everywhere.

Cecilia took one look and let out a piercing scream that echoed through the park.

I think next time we'll buy a star or maybe a scary monster.