I remember the exact outfit I wore to the first day of my freshman year of high school. The week before school started, I made my mom drive two towns over the to a store called “E-Street,” to buy me a pair of stretchy, dark-wash Mavi jeans, a white Michael Star tank top, and a light blue terry cloth Juicy zip-up sweatshirt. I also wore a necklace made of a rolled-up strip of black nylon fabric, and a disturbing amount of black eyeliner.
It was THE MOST EXPENSIVE outfit I had ever owned at the time, and is probably still in my top ten today. My mom made me pay for half of it with the money I had earned babysitting that summer, but even so, when I dig deep into the recesses of my memory, I think I can actually see the pained expression on her face as she handed her credit card over to the gum-smacking teen behind the register.
And why, you ask, did I force my mom to spend half of her teacher’s salary on an over-priced, J-Lo inspired sweatshirt? Because when I got dressed on that first day of school, and stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I felt a surge of absolutely overwhelming relief. At that age, I would have sold a kidney (or, in this case, my mom’s kidney) to guarantee that I could start high school looking EXACTLY the same as everyone else.
I, like a lot of teens, spent way to much time observing the ways in which I did, or didn’t, fit in with my peers. I liked sports, and was kind of good at them, which was a definitely a win. I also did well in school: something kids in my neighborhood seemed to value. However, I wasn’t “casual” about my grades, and had to work for them, which made me not quite the right kind of smart. I also wasn’t loud, or particularly funny, or outgoing. In middle school, I never really had the right clothes. More accurately, I had one or two items of the right clothing, but not enough for 2 weeks of unique outfits. I was a jeans and t-shirt repeater, which was definitively uncool.
When I started high school, I knew I couldn’t change my personality, or the fact that I really did have to study in order to pass Geometry. But, I thought that if I looked a certain way, and hid the fact that I still sometimes listened to Harry Potter audiobooks at night before bed, I could stop teetering on the precipice of coolness, and finally jump in.
Jessie Sima’s book, The Not Quite Narwhal is not really about “coolness,” but it’s definitely about fitting in. Or, more accurately, what we think it means to fit in. In the book, Kelp, a unicorn in scuba gear is born from a clam shell in the depths of the ocean. Kelp grows up among a lively pod of narwhals, knowing he is different, but never actually acknowledging it. One day, Kelp gets swept away to the land of the unicorns and discovers what he truly is. Naturally, an identity crisis ensues.
When Kelp returns home, he struggles to reveal his newfound truth to his narwhal friends, as he fears their rejection. However, when he finally musters the nerve to explain to his friends that he is, in fact, a unicorn, they are completely unphased. “We all knew that,” one says with a smile.
When I look back on high school (and, to be honest, college as well), I cringe at how self-involved I was. I was always looking outward and comparing myself to the people at the “top”: the people who looked, to me, like they had it all figured out. The “narwhals,” if you will.
If I had, at 15, taken a minute to step back, and look around, I would have noticed that a was surrounded by friends who didn’t really give a shit about whether I was, or wasn’t, a unicorn. My friends then (and my friends now, for that matter) were as unique in their interests and appearance as I was. They were smart, and creative, and some of the funniest people I know. We spent every, single, Friday night together and helped each other through so many of those formative, high-school “firsts.” We didn’t all “fit in,” with the popular kids, or even with each other, but we never would have judged each other as much as I am sure we all judged ourselves.
I don’t necessarily regret my teenage self’s attitude, because being an anxious, self-absorbed mess is kind of exactly what the teenage years are all about. But whenever I read The Not Quite Narwhal to my daughter, I really hope that at least a teeny part of her begins to internalize the message. I hope she understands that all of us, at some point, will feel like we stand out, or don’t fit in, but that our differences are usually the last thing on the minds of the people we love, and who love us, unconditionally, in return.
In addition to this fabulous book, I’ll link some of my favorite children’s books about standing out, and fitting in. As always, thanks for stopping by, and happy reading!
When I think of home, I think of summer. I think of humid afternoons in the backyard, and a wild chorus of locusts. I think of thunderstorms over Lake Michigan, and neighborhood kids playing kick-the-can in the alley behind my parent’s house. I think of lazy mornings at the beach, and tennis matches with friends, and driving down Lakeshore at night with the windows down.
I lived in the same house for my entire childhood. From one to eighteen, I spent every summer catching fireflies on the same porch, trading hellos with the same neighbors, and riding my bike around the same block. I have also held on to a lot of my friends from back home. Some of my friends from high school, were also my friends in elementary school, and even in preschool. Knowing someone for that long makes them family, and even if you don’t talk for months, or even years, you’ll still always really know them.
This summer will be the first summer in my life that I won’t be going back to my parent’s house, and to my hometown. It will be the first summer that I don’t get to check back in with those high school friends, and the first summer that I won’t take an evening walk to the beach with my parents and siblings.
I know that this isn’t exactly a tragedy, especially considering what so many other people are going through right now, but it feels like an important turning point in my life, and a moment for reflection, on what it really means to be “home.”
Home is a Window by Stephanie Parsley Ledyard is the story of a little girl who has to say goodbye to her beloved family home, and discover a new one; one that holds a lot of possibility, but even more uncertainty. The book reads like a poem, and implies the journey more than describing it outright. (Which, I think, is a lovely way to introduce young children to a more complex mode of storytelling.) The illustrations are lovely, and allow the reader to really feel the attachment the young girl has to both her old home, and tiny pieces of her new one.
Every time I read this story, I can’t help replacing all of the details of the girl’s home with details from my own. Her sleepy and stoic dog is, of course, my beloved childhood Springer Spaniel, who was a pillar of comfort for me during so many of my own life transitions. Her dinner table, is the table in my living room, set for Thanksgiving, bursting with food, and occupied by three grandparents who are no longer with us. The closet the girl hides in is the coat closet in my parent’s hallway, that contained a “secret” door to an even better (albeit somewhat spooky) hiding place. Her first home, the one that “feels the same each day,” is my first home: the one that still feels the same to me, when I return to it every year as an adult.
When the girl from the story moves, just as I left for college, and then for California, almost everything changes. It’s scary, and it’s exciting, and it’s very very uncertain. But the girl’s family, and her dog, and her brother (who she honestly doesn’t seem that interested in) are still there, and even though the window frames at her new home aren’t the same, the images of love and comfort that they reveal certainly are.
So, as I sit here on the couch in my home in California, while my parents, who drove for THIRTY HOURS to be here with us for a few weeks this summer chase my kids around the living room, I try to remember that I may be looking at this summer through a different window, but what I’m looking at hasn’t really changed that much at all.
Home is a Window & Other Books About Home (Click to Purchase):
If there’s one food that’s synonymous with summer, it’s ice cream. As a kid, my friends and I used to constantly beg our parents to load up the mini van and drive us to the local ice cream shop. I grew up in the Chicago suburbs, and everyone in town got their ice cream at a place called Homer’s. The shop is still there, and it’s ice cream is something of a local legend–especially the peppermint flavor.
In adulthood, I haven’t lost my affinity for ice cream. I have, however, gotten to know my body a little better, and have come to realize that milk and sugar don’t always agree with me (as much as that pains my ice-cream-loving heart).
Like a surprising number of women my age, I have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome) which is a wide-ranging disorder that can manifest in different ways in different people; in me, in caused infertility (womp, womp). There’s not a lot of research being done on PCOS (despite how widespread it is), but the stuff that is out there seems to point to abnormal insulin-receptor activity on the ovaries as a major culprit. Thus, cutting sugar and other inflammatory foods can often help ease the symptoms. (And you thought this was just a post about ice cream…)
Enter, “nice cream,” or dairy-free, refined-sugar free, ice cream. While it doesn’t taste exactly like ice cream (the taste is a little more reminiscent of a smoothie), it’s a close enough substitute. My kids (3.5 and 1.5) also can’t seem to tell the difference, which I consider a huge win.
The recipe I’m including here is for the peppermint nice cream, but I will probably come back and update this post with some additional flavors as the kids and I continue to experiment.
Kid-approved!
Ingredients:
3 bananas, sliced and frozen overnight (The riper the bananas, the sweeter the nice cream, so I recommend waiting until they are slightly brown)
1/4 teaspoon peppermint extract (I like it pretty minty, so you may want to start with less)
A small handful of spinach (for color AND nutrition)
Chocolate chips (this is a matter or personal preference, so I won’t tell you what to do. BUT, I choose to use Hu Hunks, which are made with coconut sugar, so they’re low on the Glycemic Index.
Directions:
1. Place all of the ingredients in a blender or food processor. If you are using a blender, I recommend using a pretty heavy duty one, like the Vitamix. (This brand is very expensive, but totally worth it; I use mine all the time. You can also buy them refurbished on Amazon for much cheaper, but good as new.)
2. Blend until a smooth texture is achieved.
3. Pour the mixture into a glass or silicone (freezer-safe) loaf dish. Cover and freeze overnight.
4. Let thaw for 20 minutes before serving. And ENJOY!
In mid-June of 2020, my family made the trek from Southern California to Yosemite National Park for a relatively short-notice family vacation. If you’re unfamiliar with it’s location, Yosemite is about 3 hours east of San Francisco, 5 hours north-east of Los Angles, and 3000 miles from anywhere when you have two toddlers in the car (JK! The drive wasn’t that bad).
Dan and I visited Yosemite a few times when we were in our 20’s, once during the summer, and once during the fall. I would highly recommend both, and would also love to visit in the winter to test out some of the incredible cross-country skiing trails and snow tubing runs.
We probably never would have done this trip had it not been for Covid (silver lining alert!), as we had to cancel our annual summer trip to my parent’s house in Chicago when it became apparent that flying was too risky. We still wanted to enjoy our time off, and Yosemite seemed like the perfect, socially-distant destination.
Despite all of the restaurants being closed, and the toddlers refusing to sleep in their own beds, it was a really incredible trip. The scenery in Yosemite is unlike anything else in the world, and the entertainment value my kids provided when they screamed at deer, or hugged giant sequoias for the first time can’t be beat.
In this post, I’m going to break down where we stayed, what we did, and how we scheduled our days during our most recent visit. I’m also going to write a bit about what we plan on doing next time (because we are definitely going back), and what we would have done had we not been in the midst of a global pandemic.
Where We Stayed:
We stayed at this Airbnb in Fish Camp, which is about an hour south of the Yosemite Valley. If you look on a map, the town might appear closer to the park than that, since the southern park entrance at Wawona is only about 7 minutes away. However, once you enter the park from the south end, you have another 50 minute’s drive to the valley itself, which is where you’ll find all the best hikes and vistas. We really loved this rental, as it was kid-friendly (equipped with a high-chair, toddler bed, lawn games, and baby gate for the stairs) and had a nice, recently-remodeled kitchen for us to cook breakfast and dinner in.
We chose to stay in Fish Camp since most of the lodging in the park was closed, and we were driving in from the south. There are three other entrances to the park, and you would most likely use a different one if you were driving in from San Francisco (Arch Rock Entrance or Big Oak Flat Entrance) or from somewhere to the east (Tioga Pass Entrance). If you’re visiting in the winter, it’s best to check for closures before you plan your drive, as some of these roads are seasonal.
On our next visit, we would consider staying at the Tenaya Lodge at Yosemite, which is also in Fish Camp, but was temporarily closed during our stay. Some of the locals we met gave this place rave reviews, and it offers more of a resort experience, with hotel room or cabin options, as well as a pool, spa and restaurant.
Must-See Attractions:
Bridalveil Fall Trail:
Hiking around this waterfall was probably my favorite experience of the trip. The trail-head begins right in the center of the valley, where Wawona Road and Southside Drive converge. You can park on the side of the road, and it’s a quick walk across the prairie to the base of the falls.
The whole trail is about .5 miles and is marked as “easy.” The trail was actually closed for maintenance when we arrived, so we spent the morning scrambling up the side of the lower falls (you might have to carry the littlest of littles, but it’s not very steep) to a relatively calm pool overlooking a slightly deeper one, into which some thrill-seeking teens were jumping (this is where you avert your child’s eyes so they don’t get any ideas).
My kids loved climbing around on the rocks and wading in the freezing water. From our perch, we could look up to the top of the falls and, when we got a good breeze, we were blanketed in mist. The experience was definitely supervision-heavy (you can’t exactly look away when your kids are playing in a waterfall), but totally worth it.
Lower Yosemite Fall Trail:
Lower Yosemite Falls
This is one of the most popular, and easily-accessible hikes in the park. It’s about a mile long, and stroller accessible. This hike is a little further into the park, just north of the Yosemite Valley Lodge. The trail was easy for my kids to walk, and they enjoyed stopping for a snack by the river. The view of the falls was incredible and its an amazing spot to stop for a family photo. (Which we would have done had we not been so scared of germs that we couldn’t bring ourselves to hand a phone over to a stranger…)
Since we were visiting during the pandemic, the park was nowhere near full capacity, and the shuttle bus wasn’t running. So, we were able to park at the bus stop and walk right in. However, if you plan on visiting during more normal times, it would probably be smarter to shuttle here, as there isn’t a lot of parking nearby. This map outlines where the shuttle runs in the park, as well as where you can park your car and hop on.
THE RIVER!
I knew there was a river running through the Yosemite Valley, because I had visited before. I also thought that the river was what had initially formed the valley, but a booklet I acquired at the gift shop (which was targeted at elementary-aged kids), informed me that the valley was actually formed by glacial activity.
Regardless, and despite my loose “knowledge” of said river, I didn’t really think about it as an “attraction,” when planning our trip. However, in typical family trip fashion, it ended up becoming THE attraction for my kids.
Sentinel Beach
On our first day, we stopped at Sentinel Beach for lunch, and ended up staying for hours. There was a sandy beach for resting, and the river was cool, and slow-flowing. We collected rocks, chased butterflies, and watched some fly-fishermen at work. We didn’t bring bathing suits, so we let the kids play in their birthday suits and the hubs and I tried our best not to get completely soaked.
Cathedral Beach
The next day, we came armed with towels and bathing suits and stopped at Cathedral Beach. The views at both spots were incredible, but this one really took the cake. Max and I took a nap on the beach while Dan and Margot forded the river, chased some ducks, and entered into an impromptu “log rolling” competition with some local kids. If I had to ask Margot what her favorite part of the trip was, this would definitely be it.
What We’d Do Differently:
River Tubing
The next time we visit Yosemite, I definitely plan on spending a day tubing down the river. During both afternoons that we spent at the beach, we saw tons of families floating by on tubes and rafts having what looked like one heck of a time.
When the kids are older (they have to each be over 50lbs), I plan on looking into the Curry Village Raft Rentals. Families can rent a raft, and schedule a driver to pick them up at the end of the run. The season to do this is short (only late June – August), and it’s best to call beforehand to make sure conditions are still good (when the snow pack is gone, so is the river).
I would also consider buying my own river tubes (like these ones from Amazon) and floating without a guide or ride. Several families we met had taken this route, largely due to the fact that raft rentals and shuttle buses were in short supply. Some of the families we chatted with had left their bikes at the end of the float, hiked up-river all day, and then spent the afternoon floating back. Another group had been dropped off up-river by grandpa, and he planned on meeting them with the car several miles away. Floating on your own definitely takes some planning and creativity, but it’s also pretty idyllic.
Lodging Options
It’s a dream of mine to one day stay at the Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite Valley. This hotel is a historic landmark, and is absolutely stunning. It is rustic and elegant and the views are unreal. The rooms are a little pricey (starting in the $300s), but you get what you pay for in terms of location and accessibility. But a word of warning: this hotel needs to be booked way in advance, as it tends to fill up for the summer pretty quickly, oftentimes with repeat visitors.
If you’re looking for more rustic lodgings, there are a ton of interesting camping options in the valley as well. On one of our hikes, we passed through Curry Village, which offers some basic hotel rooms, cabins, or platform tent rentals. I think we’re going to look into a cabin here for our next trip, and would consider the tents, had a family of campers not let us know that the village can get a little noisy at night, and the tent’s walls are made of, well, canvas. (Prices start in the high $100s.)
Biking:
I didn’t realize how bike-friendly the Yosemite Valley really is until I visited this time around. This was probably because we didn’t bring a stroller, and my kids complained about walking A LOT, so I was very envious of all the biking families whose kids were tucked safely (and quietly) into trailers.
There’s a 12-mile paved trail that runs up and down the center of the valley, as well as Exchequer Mountain Bike Park (for mountain bikers, obviously) and Stockton Creek Preserve Bike trails.
We were gifted the Burley Bee bike trailer by some friends a while back, and it would have been perfect for this trip. If we make it back before the kids outgrow this trailer, we will definitely be bringing it, along with our bikes, and maybe some headphones.
Take A Look, It’s In A Book!
If you can’t make it to Yosemite anytime soon, but still want to bask in it’s beauty or learn about it’s historic and ecological significance, I’ve linked a few books (all of which we own and love) about Yosemite, and the people and animals who call(ed) it home.
As always, thanks for reading and let me know in the comments which national park we should visit next!
Life Doesn’t Frighten Me is a poetic picture book, written by the late, great Maya Angelou, and illustrated by Jean-Michel Basquiat. The poem is childish in that it follows a simple rhyme scheme, and makes references to classroom bullies and Mother Goose, but there are also some pretty serious, grown-up themes embedded in this story, and I have always thought of it as a picture book that is interesting for kids, and informative for adults.
Throughout the book, the protagonist, presumably a young girl, and maybe even a young Angelou, talks about all the things that don’t frighten her, such as dragons, dogs, and mean boys. Her list is punctuated by explanations of the bold ways in which she fights back against fear, as well as the constant refrain, “Life doesn’t frighten me at all.”
If you’re an English teacher, or even just a regular human being, you probably know that when a person, or a character, repeats something over and over again, it’s usually because they are trying to convince themselves that it is true. I, myself, have been told (by friends, family, therapists, etc.) that we all have the power to manifest our own reality, and become who we want to be, merely by believing that we already are.
I have talked to a lot of people about this topic because I am, and have always been, a pretty high-strung person by nature. As my students would say, I have “no chill.” So, over the past few weeks, as I and millions of families, teachers and students have waited on the decisions of governors and school districts concerning when and how to reopen schools, I have found myself mimicking the strategy put forth by the protagonist of this story. When I start to worry about what the various realities of teaching online, teaching in person, or doing both may look like, I remind myself:
Try to teach kids from afar
They’re turning off their avatar
Life doesn’t frighten me at all
No masks around, don’t seem to care
Virus flying through the air
Life doesn’t frighten me at all
Turns out I’m not a poet, but hopefully you can discern my point: Basically, I’m afraid of all of the options.
I have spent the last 10 years teaching middle school, and have only recently really found my groove. I have finally figured out how to manage a classroom in a firm, but loving way. How to build up a repertoire of games and activities that allow kids to get out of their seats, run around the room, and also learn something. How to police group projects, and how to allow kids to be creative, but also productive. I have learned how to talk to pre-teens, and let them know that I actually do care, despite what they have been trained to believe.
I have also created some BOMB curriculum, all of which requires me, and the students, to work together in a coordinated, and well-timed, academic “dance” of sorts. I have learned how to be goofy enough to get kids to pay attention, but not so goofy that they don’t respect me.
None of these strategies work very well via Zoom. And that, in itself, is pretty depressing.
But, on the other hand, I am also kind of afraid of Covid-19. While I, myself, am not high-risk, I know an ER doctor who has had to intubate more than one previously-healthy Covid patient in his/her 30s (and I trust this guy, because we have a lot of the same DNA), so it’s not impossible that it the disease could be hard on me, or my family. I also have a ton of co-workers who are high risk, some of whom would be exposed to thousands of students every day should we go back to school in person. I worry about at-risk kids, parents, grandparents, siblings, bus drivers, lunch ladies, custodians, school nurses, etc. I worry about the conflicts that will inevitably arise when kids and/or parents refuse to wear masks on campus, or when teachers have to discipline teens for violating the social distancing rules that have already caused them undeniable stress, and possibly even emotional trauma, over the past several months.
I think most teachers would agree with me when I say that I would do anything to have a normal, in-person, on-campus school year next year. Except sacrifice the health and safety of my family, and community.
So, while we wait to find out more, I’ll just be sitting over here, wearing my mask, building up my courage for whatever may come to pass, and reminding myself that “life doesn’t frighten me at all,” even if, in every possible scenario, it really does.
And lastly, let’s be good neighbors and take care of each other by wearing a mask when we’re out and about. You can find some cute ones at Old Navy, A Little Lady Shop (I love these ones because the ear strap is super comfy), Tuckernuck, and even Jack’s Surfboards. Out of Print also has some bookish face masks coming soon!
