Montecito Mama

The boxes are being filled. The awful screech of the tape gun is a constant.  I've misplaced three fat black Sharpies today alone. Moving truck arrives in 7 days. We are really doing this.  Gulp. There was a displaced bird's nest on the front step this morning. Poor little birdie, putting so much effort into that cozy little home and suddenly having to start anew. At least birds don't have to bubble wrap the nicknacks.

I take any excuse possible to run errands on warm summer evenings after the kids are in bed. I love driving through town with the windows down, music blasting, and car seats empty. I've been making summer playlists, or (as they were known in 1987) "mixed tapes," since high school. The first one was recorded on Memorex and came like a rite of passage along with a driver's license and diploma. Guns N Roses opened the collection with "Sweet Child o Mine" and side two peaked with Simply Red's "Lady in Red."  I like to think that my musical tastes have matured a little in the years since high school, or at least broadened past Top 40.  (Now it is my children who obsess over Gotye and Katy Perry, and I who need an iPhone app to identify them.) But there are a few constants in nearly every playlist that I create. For reasons unexplainable, you'll almost always find Neil Young somewhere in the mix, as well as a hymn. And everything must be s

The kids and I spent the day road tripping home, and listening to this song on repeat. It perfectly sums up what our lives look like at this very minute, with one foot in California and the other in Maryland, heads spinning with details, dreams and tie cutting. Just can't get enough of those Avett Brothers. The Avett Brothers - I And Love And You (Official Music Video) . Watch more top selected videos about: The Avett Brothers Load the car and write the note. Grab your bag and grab your coat. Tell the ones that need to know. We are headed north. One foot in and one foot back. But it don’t pay to live like that. So I cut the ties and I jumped the track. For never to return. Ahh Brooklyn, Brooklyn take me in. Are you aware the shape I’m in? My hands they shake, my head it spins. Ahh Brooklyn, Brooklyn take me in. . . . Dumbed down and numbed by time and age. Your dreams that catch the world, the cage. The highway sets the travelers stage

If Dolly Parton is right (and why wouldn't she be?) in proclaiming sweet tea "the wine of the South," then DC and I are going to get along just fine. Sweet tea is my fuel during the summer. It is fun to drink and helps keep me awake when it's 91 degrees inside the house and I'd like nothing more than to nod off on a big veranda somewhere during those two days in July when summer actually comes to Santa Barbara. I'm perfecting the recipe now to impress my new Maryland neighbors with my southern hospitality after August 1. SOUTHERN SWEET TEA makes 3 quarts 4 Pitcher-size cold-brew tea bags, 8 regular, or 6 tablespoons orange pekoe tea leaves in a diffuser ¾ cup sugar Ice cubes 2 lemons, sliced (optional) Fresh mint sprig (optional) Place the tea bags in a large pitcher. Add 3 quarts cold water, and steep for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, combine 1 cup water and the sugar. Boil, stirring occasionally, until the sugar is dissolve

According to experts, chocolate is now good for you. Feel guilt no longer; chocolate is actually good for the heart, brain and libido. Can I get an amen?  That is more than the permission the kids and I needed to visit Papa during his shift at the Ghirardelli Chocolate Factory. If you ever find yourself cruising down I-5 through the nothingness of Lathrop, do something sweet for yourself and pit stop at Ghirardelli's ice cream shop. At $5 each, the "World Famous Hot Fudge Sundae" will not disappoint. The smell alone is enough to get your dopamine levels rising, keeping travelers bellied up to the bar like alcoholics on a binge. Thankfully, you can't get pulled over for driving home under the influence of an over-sized sundae. Although, judging by the giddiness and volume of some of the pint-sized patrons, I'd say the hot fudge can definitely affect your judgement. Life may be like a box of chocolates, but in this case, you definitely know what you are g

Being on the road with the kids as the lone adult is a test of endurance. We were a mere 30-minutes into a 6-hour drive when the first “Are we there yet?” was heard, and only an hour after that when "I have to go to the bathroom" surfaced. I had packed a big fat bag of books and crafts with high hopes that the children would arrive at Grandpa and Grandma's cheerful and rested, even though Lucie did have to wait an hour for her dinner. At the point when fidgeting and poking and simmering restlessness was about to boil over into mutiny, I came up with a game to unite the troops and distract them from their captivity. I grilled each of them in turn, asking all sorts of up-close-and-personal questions about their goals and future plans. Their answers and the laughter made us forget that we were hungry and out-of-sorts.   Grayson plans to live in Austin, Texas, so that he can have a farm in the big wide open. He's not sure why more people don't live on farms where

Fourth of July in Santa Barbara is my hands-down favorite. Beach, barbeque, and bombs bursting in air. Nothing can beat it. We spent the entire holiday with friends. There were ponies and hay rides, ice skating, water slides, and a live band. We pigged out on hamburgers, cupcakes and watermelon. At dusk we bundled up in jackets and hats, grabbed the sleeping bags and headed to Girsh Park for the best view of the fireworks. We've been doing this for a number of years, and it truly is my happy place. I love the patchwork closeness of our circle of friends and their blankets spread out on the grass, all of our hands digging into the same bag of popcorn. Our kids, who have known each other since birth, dance their hineys off and then giggle together under the blankets, foreheads touching and eyes sparkling. Washington, DC is the ultimate place to be on Fourth of July. But will it give me this? The fireworks were exceptionally smoky this year, causing bittersweet tear

Perhaps I've lost perspective, or investing too much in the achievements of a 6-year-old. But I can't help myself; she smells like bubble gum. Lucie taught herself to blow a bubble! We want to share this significant milestone in the life of an enthusiastic gum chewer with you. (Apologies for the Drake & Josh noise pollution in the background,  which has become the unfortunate soundtrack to my summer.)

My mom and dad risked shame and flogging by wrapping up a kitchen appliance for my birthday. My mom, knowing how I feel about presents that plug-in, questioned Rob twice: "Are you sure that's what she wants?" But I did want it very much, and I'm not ashamed to say it: I'm in love with an ice cream maker. July is National Ice Cream month, and my family is doing our part to celebrate. We've sampled and modified a number of homemade ice cream experiments, and have narrowed it down to two recipes that everyone loves. Think of this post as a Wagner Family Ice Cream Cookbook.  The competition is by no means closed. July is a long, hot month and we are always willing to whip up another batch. Submit your favorite homemade ice cream recipe in the comments section below. (Particularly if you've got one that tastes like Haagen Dazs Coffee, hint hint.) Happy freezing! And remember: there is almost nothing that ice cream can't fix. COPYCAT PINKB

In an effort to relieve some of the guilt for not bringing in any income, I agreed to help the kids with a lemonade stand today. This was not to be a Pottery Barn stand, with the lemon shaped ice cubes and matching straw dispenser and awnings, but an old-fashioned run-by-kids-using-mom's-card-table affair. They did come up with a business plan, though: make enough money to buy an ipod. Well, either an ipod or a smoothie. Grayson took charge of profit maximization, carefully coaching the 6-year-old wait staff on number of ice cubes and ounces allowed per cup, as well as drilling the girls on "cute faces" to coerce new customers. Lucie wanted to be the main squeezer, but when her hands proved too small for the task, settled for sign publicity. It was really important to Violet that she be responsible for the necessary job of stacking and sorting cups. And also looking cute (reference profit maximization tactics above). I was touched by the number of neighbors who came

Since lazy and carefree aren't working out according to my pie-in-the-sky summer fantasy, and since I can't find any month long sleep away camps willing to take a 3-year-old, the kids and I sat down to brainstorm some old-fashioned summer fun to keep our minds and bodies occupied this summer. Video games and texting did not make the list. What did make the list are the simple pleasures of summers past; imaginative activities that don't require special equipment or a lot of money. They will require the kids to change the default position from lounge lizards on the couch, and will also require, for the most part, that they wear more than underpants. Which may mean that, without physical intervention, the following list may be politely ignored. And also that I may be setting myself up for a month of nudging and nagging. Or it just may mean that I get my summer of bonding after all. Wish me luck. SANTA BARBARA SUMMER EXPERIMENT 2012 Hike Cold Springs Trail Go campin

Rob left yesterday for his third tour in Washington DC and I am determined to make this summer alone at home with the kids the best ever. I’ve calendared play dates and sleepovers and train rides and zoo outings and story times. It is only day two and already I’m busting my hump with crafts and lemonade and building forts and homemade play dough.  And in between I’m attempting to turn my little sideline freelance business into a livelihood. Enter here the children, those ungrateful little nitwits, who make Veruca Salt look like a saint. These are children who aren’t afraid to injure one another over the last yogurt with the rabbit cartoon on it. They scoop Nutella from the jar with their fingers and then, after using shirts as napkins, criticize and reject the nutritious meal I’ve laboriously prepared for them. Their bodies go limp with injustice when I ask them to put on clothes or even, heaven forbid, brush their teeth. They are constantly touching one another and then s