Vision

So, it's 2014. This is the year I've been waiting for. My vision-board-come-true year. Just over a year ago my sister, dad, step-mom, kids, and I got together with a stack of poster boards and a heap of magazines to make our first vision boards. Mine sits on my desk just behind my computer, where I see it every day as I work: Hawaii images, yoga poses, chocolate, coffee, lavender bouquets, and Ganesha, the patron of letters, who keeps me company as I write. Scattered throughout are words like breathe, play, success, wellness, and joy. I put all of my dreams up there, too: agent, publishing contract, travel, balance. And as the year went on I had to keep adding new words, because the wishes all started coming true. I got an agent. I got a publishing contract. I got two trips to Hawaii. I found balance. The board, now framed, still sits in front of me at my desk, a reminder of how far I've come, how much possibility still lies before me.

I've always been a pragmatic dreamer, which means that I daydream up these outlandish notions of where my life could go, all the while working like hell to make a dent in whatever pile of work I've given myself for the day. I rarely need to be pushed by anyone, I drive myself harder than anyone else ever would. This is a great attitude to have when trying to get published. Keep dreaming that it's possible, but never lose focus on the blank page in front of you. Keep coming at it until you get it right. Most days I still have the same attitude. I am aware that I have a novel coming out in six months, which is so ridiculously exciting that I can barely sleep if I think about it too much, but I also know that if I spend too much time thinking about it I'll be too distracted to write more novels. And I want to write more novels. Tons of them.

It also helps to have young children. Nothing keeps you humble like two kids doing cartwheels and walkovers in your office, asking an endless stream of questions about when they were babies, how exactly you chose their name, why there are so many irregular verbs in English, whether they can have a pet chinchilla. My seven-year-old likes to read my writing notes over my shoulder and question every one of them: "But why does she want to move? I think if she liked her house she wouldn't want to leave. Maybe you need to write something about why she doesn't like her old house anymore." My eight-year-old sometimes comes downstairs at midnight and tells me to go to bed. She knows as well as I do that sleeping in is not part of a single mom's life.

My girls have been off school a lot lately. A week for Thanksgiving, a week in Hawaii to celebrate my book deal, then two weeks off for winter break. I haven't gotten a lot of writing done in the past six weeks, and I miss it. But I've gotten to spend a lot of mornings with my girls, sipping coffee while watching them play. They have vivid imaginations and create elaborate games that involve singing, dancing, drawing, creating new forms of currency, granting wishes, punishing evil-doers, and traveling the world. They are my blank page, too.

I already know that this is going to be a great year. The one when I finally see my name on the cover of a novel. The one when I finally take the leap to author. My girls will continue to grow taller and master new gymnastics skills and learn new things and wake me up way too early on Saturday mornings. I expect it to be my best year yet. Maybe it's time to make a new vision board, and dream up some even bigger dreams.

Aloha

We're back in Hawaii: me, my girls, and my sister-in-law Jessica for a week in one of my favorite places in the world. I've got sun and the sound of ocean waves, myna birds and palm trees, mongooses (the girls prefer "mongeese"), plumeria trees, fresh-cut pineapple and papaya, a fridge full of Pog, and a much-needed week with no plans whatsoever. No school lunches to prep, no gymnastics to rush off to, no homework to check, no dog to clean up after, and no nagging household chores to do.

The girls, still on California time, have been the first up each day. They wake Jessica and me up with music blaring from their iPod, the little thumps of dancing legs just outside our bedroom door, their high girlish voices singing along to Adele.

We sip Kona coffee on the lanai and wait for the day to start. The first few days we were up before sunrise, but today the sun beat us. We've visited a variety of beaches, had pool time each day, have watched a hula show, gone to the beautiful and calming Place of Refuge, and done some shopping. The days have a timeless feel and pass both quickly and slowly. Yesterday we decided to spend an hour at the beach. With twenty minutes left we took to the waves. The girls bodysurfed while the grown-ups scanned the horizon for the last of the migrating humpback whales, the mamas with their new calves. When we checked the time three hours had passed.

String bean, out of the water since last summer, has gotten reacquainted with her swimming skills. She's built like a swimmer, long and lean with a wide wingspan, and she can cover the length of the pool in a single breath. At seven years old, she's probably a better swimmer than I'll ever be. Peanut, five now and determined to do everything her own way, huffs along in her spastic doggie paddle style, still stubbornly refusing to try any real strokes. Luckily we have water wings, so she can alternate between floating along and thrashing around and I know she'll stay safely afloat. The girls exhaust themselves with jumping waves, making sandcastles, running free in their hot pink flip flops, swimming in the pool for hours, and each night as I cuddle with them for our daily list of three good things, they've fallen asleep on me before finishing.

Jessica has been an enormous help on this trip. After a year of single-motherhood I'd forgotten what it's like to have an extra set of hands for dinner prep, kid-bathing, dishes, laundry, general clean-up, and driving around. I was prepared for a kid-centered vacation, but I've gotten more relaxing in than expected thanks to Jessica's presence. We're a lot alike, quiet readers who prefer the sound of the ocean to the bustle of a crowed street, drama-free types who like to get the work out of the way so we can sit and chat and relax. The girls adore their aunt, and I'm enjoying watching them vie for her attention, off the hook for many mommy duties that they'd rather have her do. It's also been a great week to keep our friendship going, which has always been a separate thing from my marriage to her brother. The separation from my husband has done nothing to diminish my bond with Jessica, and this week has been a great reminder of that.

Whenever we come here, I remind the girls that they have Hawaiian blood, are tied to these islands beyond loving vacations here. The concept of ancestors seems hard for them to grasp, but they like to hear the stories, of their Chinese great-great-great grandfather Chun Afong marrying a Hawaiian Chief's granddaughter. They never met their Hawaiian-born grandmother, and while String Bean has my same almond-shaped eyes and olive-toned skin, fair-skinned and blue-eyed Peanut doesn't look like she could possibly have Hawaiian blood in her anywhere. But from the stories they have decided that they are Hawaiian princesses, and this fills them with a ridiculous amount of joy. Almost as much joy as I get out of being here with them.

Sister Comfort

We just returned from a wonderful week in Hawaii. This was our first trip without a single diaper, wipe, stroller, or any of those other baby things that make traveling such a pain. It was perfect. The girls entertained themselves on the plane with drawing and coloring and ate real grown-up food without a fuss.

In Hawaii, we tried out every pool, hot tub, and beach in the Waikoloa area. We saw flowers, birds, fish, turtles, dolphins, mongoose, and feral cats. The girls made new friends each day and tried every kind of fruit grown in Hawaii. They built castles on the beach, chased myna birds together, made sand angels, and bickered, about all sorts of ridiculous things. For the first three nights, they shared a room successfully. It was the first time we’ve ever been able to put them in the same room and still get a full night’s sleep. Then, on the fourth night, they kept each other (and us) up half the night.

Peanut got the room, and String Bean was moved to the fold-out couch, and hubby and I holed up in our bedroom after putting them to bed. It was worth it to have a quiet night of sleeping kids and two non-cranky girls the next day. The next night, String Bean had a nightmare, and refused to sleep alone in the condo’s living room, so she ended up back in the room with Peanut, where they kept each other up half the night again. The following night we separated them again, and again String Bean had a nightmare, but this time, instead of coming into our bedroom for comfort, she went straight to her little sister’s room, woke her up, told her about the bad dream, and went to sleep in there.

Last night when we got home, they gave each other kisses and hugs at their bedroom doors and Peanut told her big sister, “If you have a bad dream tonight, you can come get in bed with me.” It was the sweetest moment. I asked String Bean why, when the girls clearly love each other so much, they fight over things like favorite colors and imaginary princess playmates. She shook her head. “I don’t know why we do that. I do like her. Maybe I’ll try to argue less with her.”

This morning they were right back to fighting, over who liked Hawaii better, who was dreading school more, whose waffle had the most strawberries in it. But I still have that little gem of an image, of String Bean waking, afraid, and wanting her sister’s comfort more than any other.

Home Again, Home Again

The week in Hawaii was great. We had torrential downpours for the first two days, which was less than ideal, but we made the best of it (hot tubbing in the rain is a nice way to pass the time—even the kids loved it), and we were repaid for our positive outlooks with nice weather for the rest of the trip.

The kids, of course, loved the pools and hot tubs at the condo complex where we were staying, and the beach, as always, was a big hit. My father is a long-time train aficionado, and he found a 40-minute train ride through an old plantation. Half-way through the ride, the train stops next to an enclosure of Hawaiian boars. Initially they captured four of the wild pigs, but now there are 50, just a few short years later. Who knew pigs bred like rabbits? They handed out cups of dog food for us to feed the pigs, and Peanut thought that was the most fun she’d ever had. String Bean wasn’t so sure. The pigs were noisy, squealing and butting each other aside to get to the food we threw in handfuls over the fence, and the ground was a muddy mess from the heavy rains, so the scrambling pigs splashed all of us with mud. Peanut found all of this to be hysterically funny and exciting, even as we wiped her down in the bathroom afterward, laughing and saying “Look, pig mud!” at the splatter we wiped from her legs.

It was great to spend a full week with my father, extending beyond the initial catch-up phase and into a comfortable zone of just hanging out and relaxing together. And it was terrific to spend a week with my sister and her 7-month-old daughter, two people I never quite get to see enough of anymore. The girls loved having their cousin around so much, and I can see String Bean’s future as a great babysitter, from her attentive care of her little cousin.

It was hard to leave, which is the way you want to end any vacation. I realized that in her 4 years, String Bean has been to Oahu, The Big Island, and now Kauai. So, Maui must be next.

Vacation

Tomorrow, we’re off to Hawaii, for a much-needed family vacation. I’ll be leaving my computer at home, and so the blog will be taking a week-long vacation right along with me. The girls are excited about hitting the beach, swimming in the pool, and hanging out with their seven-month-old cousin for a full week. My dad, step-mom, sister, and niece will be joining us and I’m not only looking forward to sun, sand, and just getting away from it all, but I’m excited to be making new memories with my dad. We haven’t done enough family vacations with him over the years.

Back in my pre-kids life, I had a good run of going to Hawaii each year for six or seven years. Since having kids we’ve been there twice, and the last time we went Peanut was three months old, so it’s been a while. I’m looking forward to introducing her to Hawaii, the home of one line of her ancestors, now that she can run around and appreciate it. String Bean had just turned two on that last trip, so there’s no way she should remember it, but somehow she remembers certain details, like the bulldozer on the beach that she was scared of. Maybe it’s just all of the pictures she’s seen from that trip and stories that she’s heard, rather than actual memories. Either way, I know that she’s old enough to remember this trip, so it’ll be great to build some fun new memories with her, too.

I’m looking forward to a full week with my perfect little niece, with her smiley disposition, who has just learned to clap and give sloppy baby kisses. And having grandparents along to babysit on occasion for some kid-free time in paradise? Well, I don’t even have to tell you awesome that sounds.