Since our house revolves around all things Star Wars it was only fitting to serve Gordy Yoda pancakes on his special day.  Nothing says I love you dad more than a Storm trooper cut out of fluffy pancake dough or Darth Vader drenched in syrup. 

When Luke and I procured the pancake cutters we also discovered a kid-size Star Wars apron for him to serve them in.  Super cute, plus I figured it could be his standard apron.  Yeah, like aprons get a lot of wear around here…nonetheless he strutted around in the apron and delivered breakfast with flair.  Later in the afternoon, Gordy was surprised to find Luke sitting quietly by himself in his room and his apron stuffed into his garbage can.

Gordy asked, “What’s wrong bud?  What’s your apron doing in the garbage?”

Luke held back slight tears and said, “I threw it away.  It’s your day dad.  I shouldn’t have a gift on your day.”

Gordy scooped him up, removed the apron from the garbage, held him tight and said, “You’re the best present ever bud.”

With a wink to me, they proceeded to check on the world they’re building online.  I think they’ve built a pretty good one here.

A few hours later, he snuck into his rooming, hollering for us to stay out because he had a big surprise planned.  He emerged in his “fancy suit” just in time for pizza night on the basement couch.  Go figure.  And, come on who doesn’t want to knock back a grape soda and slice of pie in a suit and snap-on tie?

From the suit to the camo tee and Johnny Cash tunes to almond flavored Easter cookies our house is eclectic.  We don’t walk in a straight line every day.Of course none of these things go together.  But, I wouldn’t want them to.  And, maybe we’re just recreating a 2010 vision of the new Rockwell generation.

Bucking the current trend, we opted to allow Luke to invite as many kids as the age he was turning.  Three for three, four for four, five for five and this year six for six.  His parties thus far have been simple and lovely.  Reminiscent of birthdays from my childhood where my mom would decorate our dining room with pink and yellow balloons and bake a homemade angle food cake with fresh raspberries sprinkled on the top.  To date, his birthday bashes have been manageable and without the pressure of eagle-eyed parents ready to pounce, very low-key.

That changed this year when Luke trotted home from school one day, flopped his backpack on the kitchen table and announced, “This year I’m having a sleepover!”  A sleepover at six really?  After a long debate, we decided a six-year-old sleepover was still better than twenty-four kindergartners going head to head at Chuck-E-Cheese right?  Well, actually I’m pleased to say right!  Believe it or not the sleepover was a smashing success.  Sure, six boys and two dogs on an overcast evening translated into running laps around our dining room table and eating popcorn at 11:00 at night.  But, minus a lightsaber fight that got a little out of hand and a battle over who landed their spaceship closest to the Death Star, they were easy.  It was a reminder for me at how important independence is, even at this early age.  There were no tears in the middle of the night or requests to be driven home.  They tucked themselves in and told funny stories, which apparently when you’re six is anything related to farts.  I’m glad we took the plunge, although we might need to re-think seven for seven next year.

Throughout the years my friendships have evolved and grown, often mirroring where I’m at, at a particular moment in time.  Co-workers became friends when I was fresh out of college and always up for a night out on the town.  The past few years I’ve gravitated to friends with young children who I’ve met at the park or play-dates.  These silver friends are new and shiny like a dime fresh off the minting press.  They represent today.  Some morph into long term gold friends and other drop off as paths shift in new directions.

But, then there are the gold friends–friends who’ve known me young.  Friends like the ones we traveled with this holiday season who camped out in the snow for two days to score Rose Bowl tickets the last time we went (this time they were purchased online thank with a quick flash of a credit card thank you very much).  My gold friends and I have seen each other through breakups, deaths, and staggering joy.  They’ve become family over the years, the kind of friends I knew I can call at 2am and travel the world with.  While my gold friends may be smaller in number, our friendship has aged and remained steadfast with the passing of time. 

So, with the dawning of a new decade thank you to my silver and gold friends, and here’s to those of friends yet to be.

Coffee shops signage touted “Peppermint mochas now in season.”  Really?  Under a backdrop of swaying palms, perpetual sunshine and Luke bowling oranges in my brother’s backyard it felt more like iced latte season to me.  I suppose it’s all a matter of perspective.  As we lounged on the beach clad in shorts and flip flops, natives walked past bundled from head to toe in scarves and stocking caps.  That’s the joy of travel for me feeling transported, even when in this case we were a mere two states away from home. 

So this Thanksgiving we embraced the warmth of the sun, the smell of turkey on the grill, and the delightful taste of peppermint mochas under palm trees.  Regardless of location or the temperature outside, the best part of traveling south was spending the holiday with family.

The one exception to my No Christmas before Thanksgiving rule that I’m willing to bend on is my Christmas list.  Now wait.  Don’t worry I’m not selling out here.  It’s more that I need to buy a little extra time to decide exactly what I want beneath the tree. 

It goes without saying that I consume a fair number of books.  Living in the Portland area doesn’t help since Powell’s nearly in my backyard.  Not to mention the slew of other indie bookstores and big box shops for those times I’ve gotta get a fix on cheap mystery before the weekend.  That’s not to say I don’t purchase books online every now and then, but I much prefer the experience of a brick and mortar store.  I like to browse shelves and linger over a coffee.  I like the low background music and lofty energy found in bookstores.  That’s why the Kindle hasn’t appealed to me. 

But now, Barnes and Noble is launching the Nook which might tempt me into diving into the world of e-books.  The Nook allows users to lend e-books to friends, offers endless shelf space and cute covers.  Oh no!  It’s easy to envision myself lounging on a plush chair at my local B & N with my Nook in hand, or downloading a title while holding a hard copy in my hand.

Weigh in here fellow readers…To “e” or not to “e” that’s the holiday question for me this season.  And, Thanksgiving is still a holiday too thank you very much.

After the loss of my mother I’m always looking for new ways to incorporate her legacy into our life.  I find sometimes that anniversaries like her birthday or Mother’s Day are bittersweet.  On those holidays we’ve created new traditions of honoring her memory, but the sadness remains.  The Day of the Dead celebration was easy for me to embrace.  It’s simply a day to recognize and pay homage to our ancestors.  There’s nothing else attached to the day for me, so it was an opportunity to really play up the idea of celebrating my mom’s life.  We flipped through photos of her and stopped off for her favorite dark chocolates after school.  Luke seemed to easily embrace the day as well, although I’m sure all that extra sugar didn’t hurt.

In Luke’s classroom this week the Leprechaun expertly evaded the traps  set out–made skillfully of shoe-boxes and baited with chocolate gold.  He left a trail of shamrock footprints and treats, but not a single clue on how he might be found.  Luke and his classmates strategized for hours on contraptions for next year, sketching designs on construction paper like an architect on a drafting table.     

For some reason this escapade with the Leprechaun left Luke convinced that the mischief maker would pay a visit to our house as well.  I began to explain that St. Patty’s Day has its roots in Irish tradition.  I began to explain that Leprechauns aren’t like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.  They don’t scatter about the county or scour local neighborhoods looking for gold.  And then I stopped myself.  I noticed that Luke’s shoulders had begun to sag and that twinkle in his eye was starting to fade.  Why does it matter? I thought.  And frankly how much longer will he believe in all things magical?  Probably not long.

So, what a surprise to arrive home yesterday after school to discover the Leprechaun paid us a secret visit.

“I told you Mommy, I told you!” Luke shouted, bounding over tipped chairs and sideways lamps.  “I knew he’d come.  I just knew it.”  He raced around the house, looking in cupboards and under the basement stairs, sure that he’d be able to catch the Leprechaun before he escaped.  Once he was satisfied that the Leprechaun was no longer on the premises, he turned to me and said, “Well, I bet he found a crack somewhere and snuck out.  He is magic after all.” 

Luke’s right.  He is. 

The bonus for all you writers and romantics, the contest requires you to pen the memory of your favorite Valentine gift.  Click here for all the details, and this spring your love can watch fresh basil and wildflowers sprout.