Entries Tagged 'Florida' ↓

“I want to go outside.”

Peering out, I said tentatively, “Um. Ok.”

My six year old peered out too, seemingly questioning his own resolve. He thought for a moment and then said, “Mommy, why is it cold when the sun is out?”

“I dunno baby. It just is. …Well, actually, the sun is further from us in the winter time, so its not warming us as well.”

Blank stare. Maybe he was trying to make sense of what I meant. Maybe he already knew about our planet’s rotation. Maybe he thought I was utterly insane to be dreaming up such crap.

“My hands are going to be cold you know…”

“I know. I don’t have any gloves. …How about some socks?”

Again with the blank stare. I’ll take that as a no.

“Hey, I know what will keep you warm! How about a scarf?!” (Now there’s a novelty.) ” Scarves always keep me extra toasty.” I pulled the one I was wearing off, already feeling a chill. “Try this on.”

“Um… its a little… scratchy…” Wow. I thought about it and I wasn’t even sure he had ever worn a scarf before.

“Ok!” I said snapping it back from him and re-wrapping it around my neck, “Let’s find you one that’s less scratchy.”

So, after fumbling around in my closet, I found one. Perfect. Nice and big and warm. A pashmina. I tied it around and around his neck, helped him into his coat and baseball hat and, with a giggle, he pulled open the door and went out to brave the high 40 degree weather.

This, my friends, is how we handle harsh, unforgiving Florida winters.

The shame.

Don’t you understand people? I lived in Massachusetts for 12 years. 12 years of snowdrifts blown up past my windows, gray skies and gray earth, bone-rattling, skin chapping wind, and days that if they hit double digits were considered “balmy”. While pregnant with this very same six year old, I remember scrambling up over 6 foot piles of snow to get into the street so that I could catch my bus. I knew winter. I lived winter. I ate it for breakfast.

And now look at me.

These past few nights, the temperatures have dared to dip below freezing and Florida folks – which includes your truly – have got their flip flops in a bunch.

Do you know what happens when it gets below freezing here? People wrap up their plants. I’m not kidding. They pull all their bedding out and then clothes pin blankets and sheets around their delicate palms and banana trees. The guy across the street from me has this insane contraption set up right now. He has pinned together a tent over his palm and has placed a ladder underneath with a heating lap attached to it and cords running all over the yard for power. That sucker is on all night, willing those fragile leaves not to freeze.

And any plants I could possibly bring indoors, I have.

NOT THE PLANTS, SPARE THE SWEET INNOCENT SUCCULENT PLANTS!

However rightly so, the fruit growers are in a panic. They spend nights maintaining the sprinklers so that a thin coat of ice forms on the oranges and strawberries and other native yummies – the ice keeps their temperatures at freezing. Any lower and the fruits will be lost which is BAD news for our farmers.

I heard about these iguanas a little further south of here that are falling from the trees, in a metabolically frozen state. But, if you read the linked article, warnings have been issued asking Floridians not to pick up these iguanas because once they warm up enough, they will spring to life very quickly. I guess some guy went around collecting them, putting them in his truck, when they all revived themselves and crawled all over him while he was driving.

On the news this morning, I heard about sea turtles that have been washing up, in the same frozen state as those iguanas, unable to move from the cold. They are being picked up and brought to aquariums so that they aren’t harmed. I can practically see the collective “WTF” thought bubbles floating above their little turtle heads.

There was frost on the grass the other morning. My kids were wide-eyed. I was wide-eyed. My husband, also wide-eyed, took kick-ass pictures of said frost. He who spent his entire childhood in Connecticut, waking early for outdoor hockey practices. He too was amazed by this wondrous, frosty frost.

And yes we have heat in our homes – but it is hardly efficient. It haphazardly blasts away into these cavernous homes which were designed to keep homes cool with vaulted ceilings, tile and wood floors and open floor plans. So we are bundled under the few remaining blankets (not already pinned around our outdoor plants), wrapped in pashminas, cowering in homes that just don’t DO cold.

Back to those pashminas. You should see my cold wardrobe. WAY out of date sweaters and cheezy jackets that were cool in 1999 (a DECADE ago). No gloves (but we do have socks), no hats (well, not the warm kind, just the keep sun off your face kind), one decent scarf that my mother in law JUST sent me for Christmas and a pile of pashminas. Oh and my husband has an AWESOME collection of “Cosby sweaters” with bright bold colors and patterns circa 1993. My kids have some jeans and sweaters and one good fleece each – but we’re doing a hell of a lot of laundry in these parts.

Because why would I buy a winter wardrobe? This will be over in a matter of weeks. So we’ll tough it out. Because we’re stoic like that. Your sympathy and understanding are much appreciated.

*Holding hands over warm laptop keyboard*

We’ll get through this.

*Shuddering sigh*

Somehow.

So yeah. Winter in Florida is simply a bit silly. We are so used to avoiding heat that we aren’t sure where to find it when we actually need it.

I heard it might snow tonight in the Orlando area. As I stare out into the bitter night, I’ll be keeping my eyes peeled for pigs flying by too.

(But for real though. You want to see REAL winter? Drop on by my friend Becky’s blog at Deep Muck, Big Rake and check out her pictures of life in Iowa. She used to be a Tampa resident and moved north over a year ago. Floridians rally. They do. When they absolutely -ugh, I guess I have to put the flip flops back in the closet- HAVE to. Stay warm Becky. You make us proud!)

A couple years ago, when I still considered myself new to Florida, I noticed something quite fascinating happening out my window while I was decorating my Christmas tree.

It looked like we were having a snow flurry.

Was this a Christmas miracle? But we were in shorts, the sliding door was open, it was balmy as usual, how could this be?

And then I looked more closely and realized the “flurries” were something else, something from a local plant, flying through the air. But that was ok. Because if I didn’t look right at it while I focused on tree decorating, I could kind of sort of pretend it was a flurry outside. And the music playing in the background seemed to make just a little more sense. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

We’ll take what we can get, flurries with our shorts on.

I decided to tape these flurries this year. Enjoy Florida’s version of a “White Christmas”.

While the Lowry Park Zoo graciously offered me a day’s pass for my family to be guests at the Koala exhibit opening yesterday, I let them know I was planning to attend anyway. We love this zoo and happened to buy a family pass a few weeks ago anyway. We were thrilled to have another reason to roll in there.

The boys and I arrived at 10:30 that morning – fired up to meet Bundaleer the Koala . Honestly, though? Upon arrival, my kids took one look at the crowds gathered around the exhibit and then at the sprayground calling their name. Not surprisingly, their enthusiasm to see  Bundaleer faded a bit. But before I unleashed them into those fun fountains, I had them watch the ribbon cutting and check out the cool koala cake before I set them free. And then I did. It made sense to to wait for the crowds, news cameras and throngs of strollers to thin a bit before we went over to say hello. So they ran and jumped and sprayed and spun and giggled in the water while I listened to a wonderful diggeree doo player and watched various handlers introduce interesting animals to zoo goers wandering by.

We eventually made our way over to meet the sweet grey furry bundle of Bundaleer. He was very cute. But I don’t think he realized how much commotion was being made over him. Acting very “koala-ish”,  we found him sleeping off some of the 23 hours a day that they generally snooze, curled up behind a clump of eucalyptus. Luckily, a handler happened to go in right then so Bundaleer woke up a bit so I got a picture. They are adorable animals and Bundaleer makes a great addition to an already very fun Australian section of the zoo. Oh and check out his adoring crowds in the reflection!

After soaking themselves on the sprayground one more time, we spent the rest of the morning visiting animals. And finally wound up having snacks watching the rhinos in the “Africa” section before heading home. My boys cracked me up as they acted out the emotions of “grumpy” and “happy” for the camera (see below). It was a great day at the zoo for sure.

I get an adult night out tonight. That’s right. Stop the presses. Morningside Mom is actually going to be child free for an evening. And its going to be all about fun and games. What game specifically? Well, my bad ass sister (in law technically, but shes my girl, my sister) has hooked us up with some tickets to game five of Magic – Lakers finals game!

Lets all take a moment and do the running man. Oh yeah. And now the cabbage patch. Ok, bust out the sprinkler.

I am fired up!

Ok, I’ll fess up. I am no massive, crazy basketball fan. It was my brother who had all the Jordan and Pipen posters on his wall growing up. It’s my brother who seems near weeping when he calls me with reports of seeing Magic Johnson at a Magic game or getting a picture with Rashard Lewis.

But now, with my sister working for the Magic and both she and my brother going to every game, and us finally watching from home – our family is officially a Magic family.

And now we get to go to the game.

BECAUSE LET ME TELL YOU, I need this night out. My three year old has driven me to the edge of insanity this weekend. We’re talking 1 1/2 hour screaming rages and time outs. Stubborn refusals to share. Blatant toy taking and train track smashing. Hitting. Screeeaming. Flipping the frock out.

Even sitting at the edge of my seat during a nail biting finals game (which, if it ends badly, could mean the Lakers winning the finals) is nothing compared to the frustration of corralling my three year old. Nothing I tell you.

So in a couple hours, my Magic Superman Dwight Howard shirt is getting slipped on and I’ll wave giddily to the sitter as we peel out of here for a parents night out. At game five of the Magic Laker’s. Not too shabby.

Oh and I almost forgot. While my sister and I were out buying our Magic gear, we ran into a rock star mom. And who would that be? None other than Dwight Howard’s mother walking through the Magic store checking out the gear. I spoke to her briefly, she was so nice, a lovely woman. A very cool moment indeed.

But I also took it as a sign. I mean, this mother didn’t have Superman as her son always. I am thinking Dwight was once three years old too and I bet Dwight had his fair share of time outs. And now here she is, walking through a store displaying racks of shirts with her son’s name on them, beaming with pride. I take it as a sign that my son will get through three someday too. Whether his name is on the back of a t-shirt or not, I think I will find myself beaming with pride at his accomplishments – and these groundhog days of timeouts and tantrums will be long forgotten.

I take seeing her as another sign too. That mother’s need nights out with the Magic too. Moms can rock Magic pride. So. I am.

Go Magic.

As you all know, sometimes Blogging has its benefits. And while I hardly blog for those few and far between benefits alone, I love ‘em when I get ‘em. And what perk came my way this weekend? A free afternoon at the Florida Aquarium for Tampa bloggers, tweeters and social media folk alike.

And you know how much I love where the wild things are.

So with a gleeful kick of my heels, I packed my two boys and willing husband into the car spouting promises of lots and lots of fishies. “It will be better than the fishies in the aquariums at Walmart!” Oh. Ok. Now THAT got their attention. Better than Walmart fishies? They were IN.

When we were arrived, we were escorted into a conference room filled with fellow social media peeps. They too had brought their families, so we milled about and kept our kids from reaching into the lone fishtank found at the front of the room. After some welcomes and introductions, the Florida Aquarium staff brought out a few beasties to check out: one snake and one small gator. I felt right at home while my 6 year old waited patiently to pet each.

Next we walked out into the Aquarium and spent well over an hour walking from tank to tank. I appreciate how they have laid out the Aquarium. Visitors start in the Wetlands and meet the sort of wildlife you might find in your own Florida back yard (alligators, turtles, otters, birds and the rest). And as you walk through each exhibit and move through various stages of water, you experience the underwater wildlife you might find in mangrove swamps off the Florida coast or in the deep waters of the gulf.

My children were besides themselves with glee. They ran from tank to tank to tank to tank. “Look at this one Mommy!” “WHOA! Mommy, Daddy, look at THIIIIS!!!” They got to touch star fish, climb on displays, interact with educational technology, step over sharks and play under schools of fish. We all came to a screeching halt and were mesmerized by the floor to ceiling panoramic window displaying an enormous tank full of fish. The kids loved watching a diver interact with and take questions from visitors.

A highlight was certainly the penguin encounter. While I had to hold back my two year old by the scruff of his shirt (“I wub it mommy, I wub penguin, I wanna huuuugggg!!!”), my 6 yo listened intently to the Penguin handler. He promptly reported back to me what he learned later too: “Did you know penguins can poop 4 ft. away!?!” That’s great, babe.

We had a wonderful visit. The staff there were phenomenal. The vibe was child-friendly and relaxing. (That being said even though we never even made it out to the Caribbean Cantina tiki bar or splash park for kids set up out back.)

My only frustration? It is expensive to go very often unless you invest in a pass. Adults are $20.00 and children are $14.95 each. However, an annual pass is $140 (which includes parking) and is probably worth the investment if you and your children do love underwater wildlife and think you might like to visit the aquarium and their splash park more often.

Many thanks to Tampa Bloggers and the Florida Aquarium (on twitter at @floridaaquarium) for a fabulous family afternoon with Florida wildlife!

Mother nature must have been online yesterday. She must have taken a break from enjoying the sun’s rays in her cabana chair, wandered inside to refill her fruity cocktail and stopped in to check twitter. I bet she pushed her sun glasses to the top of her head, read all of pleads for rain in Tampa and said something to the tune of “Alright already. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I got this.” I am thinking that with a sigh and one last wistful look at the sun, she set down her drink and got to work.

Meanwhile, back at my Morningside Mom ranch, my two boys and husband were playing baseball out back (just like they always do when he gets home from work), when the winds started up. I checked the radar and heard a low rumble of thunder. Whadda ya know. I told my fam it was time to come in, we might actually get a little rain.

And rain it did. Out of the blue, the heavens opened and down poured sheets upon sheets of rain. It had been many months since I had seen anything like it. The rain drove side ways, water gushed over the sides of the house, rivers streamed down the road and over flowed sidewalks. My backyard, frontyard and sideyards were flooded. Lightening cracked directly overhead, thunder rattled our entire house and the boys laughed and screamed and delighted in it all.

At one point I peeked out my front door to find a small turtle enjoying the new pond that was my front garden. His head was cocked skyward and his mouth wide open while rain splashed down on his shell. I think he might have been a little drunk. In fact, I was quite sure every bit of animal and plant life in my yard were drowning in gratitude and already far too over served. I blipped “It’s raining men” and was quite sure the gators were disco dancing below the surface of my finally refilling ponds.

It rained and rained and rained. It slowed some, but it kept raining. It was raining when we had dinner and while we watched the Lost season finale. And then, while I was brushing my teeth before bed, I noticed that the rain was quiet. But I heard a sound I had not heard in a long long time. So I rinsed my mouth, walked to the back sliding door and stepped out onto my dark, soggy back porch. And listened. The deafening sound of peepers (small frogs) filled the air. “It rained! It rained! It rained!” Damn skippy it did.

This morning I awoke to find a miraculous scene. I grabbed my camera, slipped on my flip flops and squished my way across the back yard. I took this picture (compare it to the picture I took yesterday). Mother nature took care of business last night. I am pretty sure she had it covered all along.

God bless Mother Nature, she’s a single woman too
She took off to heaven and she did what she had to do
She taught every angel to rearrange the sky
So that each and every woman could find her perfect guy
It’s Raining Men! Hallelujah! – It’s Raining Men! Amen!

-The Weather Girls

Don’t laugh at me. But I am obsessing about rain right now. It really needs to rain. I am kind of freaking out about it.

Do you see how low our back pond is? Look at that. In my almost four years in this house, I’ve never seen it this low.

This is kind of boring you isn’t it? Well, its big news for me.

Let me back up a bit.

While I am home everyday, putzing around the house and writing posts, I don’t see all that much action. Unless you count my 2 yo pooping on the floor 3 feet away from his potty “action”. But I don’t really call that action. I call that a pain in the ass. But I digress.

So while real people in real offices wearing real business suits watch the exciting world go by from where they busily tackle the world’s problems, I am tucked away here in suburbia. The trash truck comes by. The mail is dropped off. Maybe an occasional school bus. But other than that, the sun shines down, driveways await their commuting residents, the flowers wave in the breeze and nothing seems to really happen around here.

But I actually think a lot happens outside my “office” window. My backyard is a virtual daily drama. I’ve mentioned all the animals before. Currently, there are at least three alligators moving between our ponds. We have a rabbit who appears first thing in the morning and late in the evening to snack on our grass. All varieties of herons, hawks and other birds swoop in to enjoy what our ponds offer. Deer come to graze and sip from our receding ponds midday. Lizards, snakes and turtles hustle about. There are actual bass in those ponds and the alligators will chase your lure down for them. I’ve seen bobcat and wild boar on multiple occasions. At night, bats and owls flit about, the bushes rustle, we hear calls in the night and unknown shadows wander by (most likely armadillo). I have even awoken to hear someone trying to get into our back porch only to discover a raccoon, up on his haunches, working the door latch with all his might. We joke we need to charge admission to our backyard. Guests are guaranteed to see something interesting whenever they visit.

So my office is pretty exciting. At least I think so. I love to observe the comings and goings of every beastie, the progress of each growing plant and now the level of the ponds.

I hate droughts. And I could tell you the story about the drought I experienced in Africa that meant such severe water restrictions, our dormitories were only allowed two showers per week for 10 minutes stretches with 3 people per shower nozzle. I could go on about that. But it might sound a bit like my father telling the story about how he walked to school everyday in the snow, uphill both ways – so I’ll spare you. I just know the value of water. That’s all.

And I also know that the state of Florida needs some. Badly. We haven’t had any significant rain at all since that heart-stopping tornado awhile back. Not cool.

Here is a video of an alligator who was trying to get himself comfortable in one of the back ponds last week (last week there was still some water in that pond). My mother in law and I happened to watch this alligator crawl through my backyard (it was only about 3 feet long, not big – or dangerous – by any means) and then lumber down to the water’s mud’s edge. I grabbed my camera and this is what I caught.

While I pulled my son’s shirt over his head this morning, I eyed the news. A band of severe weather was making its way ashore directly west of us. And they were talking about Tornado threats. I pulled my boy close. That was the direction my son and husband were heading for school drop off.

So they saddled up, my son’s backpack slung over my husbands shoulder, I gave my them both extra kisses and warned my husband. “Keep an eye on this weather. Please.” Yes, yes. And off they drove. While they drove off, I pulled the potted plants out from under cover. They could use a watering.

Then I went back to watching the radar. A severe weather alert had been issued by now and the Today Show had been cut off. That’s about when the heart palpitations began. That line of bad weather had moved further inshore and a collection of about 30 or so rotating circles now rested along it. Those rotations were a sign of rotating winds, potential tornadoes – and those circles were headed due east. My son and husband were headed due west.

Maybe I was over-reacting, but I had a very bad feeling about those circles. I started to panic. Those circles. They kept moving east. And there on the radar map was the road my husband was driving on. And there, yes, that’s about where my son’s school is.

Uh uh. Oh my God. My baby.

I felt my throat tighten and the tears threaten. So I dialed my husband. In a sobbing rush, I asked him to find some shelter. “I don’t care if I am over-reacting. Just get cover, ok? Please?”  He agreed and said he would stop at the local barber where he needed a cut anyway. The news would be on there and at least my son would be with him.

Ok. Phew. Ok.

When the weather hit, it just seemed like some really intense thunder storm. Yes, the skies were green and dark, yes rain hammered the side of my house, yes the trees twirled and whipped about, yes there was very loud thunder and lightening. But I didn’t hear any sounds of a freight train coming. Toto and a little girl in brown pig tails never raced by. And I never had the urge to scream out for “Auntie Em, Auntie Em!”

Once it passed, I checked in with my husband.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. We watched it all here. But you know the intersection I was at when you called?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, minutes after we talked, a tornado was reported to have touched down there.”

“….Really?”

“But we’re fine. I’m taking him to school now. Everything has passed.”

“….Ok. Um. Ok.”

It seems I have been posting about panic a lot recently. And that fear of suddenly losing your child. I felt that today. Whether the threat was real or not, I believed my husband and child were in the path of real danger. And I couldn’t bear that thought. I didn’t want either of them gone in an instant because I never demanded that they stay home and wait out the storm. That panic. That fear of loss. THAT was real.

And during it all, of course I was on Twitter nervously tweeting away. There were all sorts of Floridians in the path of the storm. And news stations were following up with us, 20 homes in our area were damaged by a reported tornado. Were we ok? Did we have any pictures to share?

Laughing to myself and thanking each one of my lucky stars, I posted my “damage” (see picture to the right).

I was laughing but the taste of adrenaline was still there, at the back of my throat, reminding me: You thought you were going to lose half your family this morning, didn’t you?

Another mother on twitter posted about the snow coming down in her area. Huge amounts of it. I commented back that for mid April, that seemed hugely unfair. But then she replied back to me “I’d like to think that all the sun is in L.A. right now for Maddie.”

Today is Madeline Spohr’s funeral. Bloggers from all over the country have flown into L.A. Friends and family are gathering right now and laying 17 month old Maddie to rest.

So is that was this is? All of this crazy severe weather? Has it all come roaring ashore to wake us all up? Reminding us of what we have?  How dear our families are and how quickly they can be taken from us in an instant?

And IS the sun just busy right now? Shining on everyone gathered for Maddie today?

I can’t help but think so.

And while this tornado business was happening, and I was laughing about how little it seemed like the Wizard of Oz (this was before I heard about homes that were actually damaged only miles from me), someone posted a song for Maddie on Twitter. The song was Israel Kamakawiwo’Ole’s’ “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”.

Well. Honestly? No other song could seem more fitting right now.

Rest in peace over the rainbow, Maddie. You have taught me to hold my gifts close and remain forever grateful for all that I have. Thank you.

I suppose my friend and I should have known the beach was going to be crowded yesterday. Spring Break. In Florida. I mean, c’mon. A crowded beach is a given. We arrived with our kids – four of them – and pushed through the crowds with our chairs and bags and stuff that seemed not to be all that much back home. After corralling and coaxing kids to keep up, we finally found a spot and settled in. Wall to wall bodies or not, the beach is always a welcome day of activity for our kids.

So we set up our chairs, slathered SPF on our kids, nervously trained our eagle eyes on all four children and sat back, watching, biting into our homemade sandwiches. Ok. Ah. Spring break.

Would the couple RIGHT in front of me blocking one of my children please move, for crying out loud? Wow, its crowded. Well. Ok. I see him. Pass the cheetoes.

And it was about then when I heard that certain tone in a mother’s voice somewhere behind me. I know that sound: panic. I caught sight of a mom near us, wide-eyed, pacing in circles. And then she moved down to the water.

“Where is she?!?!? ELLLA!!!!! Where is SHE??? ELLLLLLAAAAA!!!! OH MY GOD WHAT IF SHES OUT THERE SOMEWHERE?!?!?!!!” And she pointed out to the water.

By this point other mothers, friends, people were surrounding her, touching her elbow, reaching out, eyes searching too, questioning, holding their breaths, just as panicked.

“What was she wearing?”

“How old is she?”

“What color hair?”

My friend and I leapt up. She called the boys in from the water and kept them at our seats. I started moving down the beach.

“A four year old girl is missing. Blond hair. Purple shorts. Floral top. Four year old girl. Blond hair. Purple shorts. Floral top. Four year old girl. Blond hair. Purple shorts. Floral top.”

More parents leapt up. More people yelling her description. Children were gathered close. All eyes were searching.

And Ella’s mother behind me. I could hear her panic. Her voice. She was screaming her name. My heart pulled tight.

“Four year old girl. Blond hair. Purple shorts. Floral top.”

Ella’s mom tore past me, she was crying now, searching searching searching down the beach.

“WHERE IS SHE?????? ELLLLLLAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!”

I couldn’t help but stop and turn around. I looked out into the water. Lots of people. Did I see blond hair, purple shorts and a floral top? What was that!?!? No. Birds.

I moved back to our spot on the beach. My friend and I looked at each other.

“I’m shaking.”

“So am I.”

The kids were confused.

“Why can’t we go swimming?”

“Stay RIGHT HERE.”

It could have been one of ours. Ella’s mother could have been either of us. Just like that. In one impossibly fast moment. A child could be gone.

So we stood there. We couldn’t SIT. A little girl was missing. I’m not sure how long we stood there. It reminded me of Zebras I used to watch in Africa. During danger, they gather their young and surround them, pointing their rumps to them, facing out, stopped, searching, ready for anything. And that’s what we did. She looked one way and I another, with all four children sitting at our ankles.

“…..they found her!”

Someone yelled in the distance that they found her.

“Really?”

“That’s what I heard. Someone just yelled it down the beach.”

“Did they find her?”

“That’s what I just heard.”

And then, in the distance, I saw Ella’s mother. In her arms, wrapped around her body, was a little girl with blond hair, purple shorts and a floral shirt. Ella’s face was buried in her mother’s neck. Her mother had her hand on the back of her little girl’s head – pressing Ella to her – and was walking slowly back down the beach. Sobbing. Smiling. Nodding to people she passed.

“Yes. I got her. Thank you. Yes, I am very relieved.” Shuddering, crying, laughing.

When she got to us, I fought back tears. Along with all the mothers around us, we stepped forward to reach out again.

“Ella, are you ok?”

She lifted her face from her mother’s neck, her big wet blue eyes stared back. She nodded. She held tightly on to her mother.

Oh thank God. She was ok. Oh thank God.

My friend and I started breathing again. We laughed nervously. Regrouped a bit. We herded the kids back down to the water, gave them back their shovels and sat gratefully back into our seats. Eyes locked on all four heads.

“I’m shaking.”

“So am I. Holy crap.”

“Where are those Cheetoes.”

Children go missing on beaches all the time. I am not sure what it was about this moment that struck a chord so deeply. Well, maybe I do. I couldn’t help but think of Maddie for some reason. Not another little girl. Gone. Just like that. I couldn’t help but put myself in that mother’s position, like I have with Heather. But like the events after Maddie’s passing, I was amazed to watch mothers in action. Those moms dropped everything to get the word out Ella was gone. They searched, they comforted, they worried. Yesterday and since Maddie has passed, my heart has been so touched to watch the incredible act of mothers taking care of other mothers. It is a powerful and stunning example of beauty, kindness, empathy and love.

So once again, I know to bring my boys closer and appreciate their craziness and all that comes with it. All is well in our life. We are fine. No zebra circling today. And since all is well with our lives, we can look out for and reach out to other mothers who need our support right now.

Heather Spohr’s family must raise $7,000 for her daughter Maddie’s funeral. Donations may be sent to a paypal account in her name at: formaddie@hotmomreviews.com . Services will be held for Maddie on Tuesday, April 14th at 2:30pm at Old North Church, Forest Lawn, in Hollywood Hills. All are welcome to attend. Please wear purple in her honor. Also, a website with links and information about Maddie have been set up here.

I am guessing that by now you are fairly familiar with my perspective as a liberal mom. Well, how about a father’s perspective? What is it like to be a liberal father raising children today? Wouldn’t you know it, my husband just happens to be a liberal father. So I sat him down tonight and asked him what his thoughts were on freedom of speech, equality, stereotypes about white men and the future of the Supreme Court. Come see what he has to say, his answers may surprise you.

Now to give you some background about my husband, he is a 6 ft, 4” white college athletics coach. He grew up in a privileged town in Connecticut; he just completed his MBA and might be one of the smartest people I know. We’ll call him B. for the sake of this interview.

Caroline: As a liberal father, what issues are most important to you?

B: I am pretty straightforward about my values. I believe in civil rights, civil liberties, freedom of speech and every citizen having an equal opportunity to succeed.

C: And what about how your values relate to raising our children?

B: Well, our sons are part of a privileged class as two white males. I just hope I can raise them to have the same values I do.

C: So what about being a white male? What are your thoughts on affirmative action and our son’s future’s as white males?

B: It’s a topic I struggle with. I mean, why am I the bad guy? I know my race and gender give me a certain privilege but I wrestle with legislated equality sometimes. I realize sometimes we have to manufacture equal opportunity – and I get it – but I’ll admit that I struggle with this issue.

C: What have been some challenges for you as a liberal father?

B: I think I am most frustrated with the assumptions people make about me. I am a white, male coach – stereotypes are immediately drawn up. I mean, come on, even on the most progressive college campus, the Athletic department is assumed to be the last conservative bastion. As a result, comments are made around me since folks may presume I may have a certain value system which I don’t.

C: So how do you deal with that?

B: If I am at work and someone says something that I disagree with, I usually walk away or say nothing. I’ve got work to do and I am not going to start something then, but my silence usually clues them in. If I am outside of a work environment though, I do usually say something or try to start a constructive conversation about the topic. I make no apologies for my politics, take them or leave them.

C: With the new administration, what is the most important issue for you as a liberal father?

B: Apart from the obvious issues of establishing economic and global security for this country (and in turn, for our family), the appointment of the next Supreme Court justices is an extremely important issue for me. The current liberal appointments are not getting any younger. Whoever Obama chooses will leave a lasting impression on this country – probably longer than his own administration will. Do you know what kind of Supreme Court justices I want in there next?

C (smiling because I already know – and love – this answer): Tell me.

B: I want a purple haired, pierced nosed, extremely bright, straight talking lesbian from Northampton, Massachusetts appointed next. In fact, I want three of them in there!

I paused here to give him a big ol’ kiss. I love this guy.

C: Ok well gay adoption is illegal here in Florida. And you’ve heard all the threats about how legalizing gay marriage would ruin our marriage. What are your thoughts as a liberal father?

B: What in the world does my marriage have to do with two gay individuals who decide to be married? The success or failure of our marriage is strictly our responsibility. I have yet to hear one good cognizant argument against gay marriage. It is an equal rights issue that needs to be granted finally. If my sons grow up and decide that they want to love and marry another man, that is their right and I think it should be recognized, supported and protected.

C: Any final thoughts about being a liberal dad?

B: Florida is an interesting place. As far as I can tell in our area, I would say that being a liberal father is not particularly common. One morning a few days after the election, I was sitting at a red light. I mean, here I am, a white guy, with my kid in his car seat, on the way to kindergarten drop off with an HRC and Obama sticker on my bumper. I just don’t see that too often around here. All of the sudden, a guy in the car next to me (with his own collection of Obama stickers) started waving and honking at me, giving me the thumbs up. I saw that he too had kids in car seats in his backseat. I think it was a unique moment to see another guy like me so fired about this election. It was an interesting moment for me.

Cross posted at Type A Moms.