Best friends are awesome. They listen to you go on and on about a new someone in your life. They drive impossible distances to come and see you. They help with whatever they can. They make your kid laugh that deep, contagious laugh. And they stay up late watching ridiculous tv shows with you.

Children are awesome. They snuggle up to you to remind you of how much love there is in life and how very blessed life is. They laugh in a way that drains stress out of your day in two seconds. They smell good, even when they smell bad. And they make all the struggle worth it.

I am feeling blessed in life right about now.

Another reason to not have more kids: Camping

Sometimes I get these Super-Mom-like notions in my head of what would be a really great idea. Like this one: gosh, it would be so fun to take Emily camping with friend-of-her-choice for a WHOLE weekend on the coast, AND take the dog.

Not that it wasn't fun, the girls were super stars, and earned all three levels of the Junior Ranger program thing they do at state parks here in Oregon. We swam, we hiked, we played, we sang, we laughed, we ate our body weight in s'mores. But, ohmygosh. Something about the dull, stuck inside-ness of the winter must have washed out of my working memory how very difficult it is to camp sometimes with children. Or, let me say, how difficult it is to camp the way I LIKE to, when there are children. That is not to say it's not fun, it's just....work.

Something in little girls clicks at the age of 6 and suddenly getting along and being nice isn't cool. What's cool now I guess is this snotty, pretend we are teenagers with more cool "stuff" than you game that drives me up the wall and tears my heart into a million pieces all at once. It hurts to watch this mean, competitive backstabbing attitude become the social norm in my sweet little girl. Watching the pain in her eyes at points during the frantic "Oh yeah? My limo has..." just kills me. Can't we all just get along? I remember not liking most females growing up, but I don't remember it starting this young, or being so...materialistic and vicious.

The amount of dirt that works it's way into every crevice of all people and equipment grows exponentially with each living being that is present, or so it feels like. Also, I take my child for granted. Not every child has such a respectful curiosity for nature. Some children, for instance, seem to have this kill it/eat it situation where if you can't become intimate with it, it's scary/gross/poisonous or all of the above and must cease to live or exist. This also reminds me that when the dog relaxes a bit, there are several patches of unidentified goo that need to be picked off or cut out of his fur.

My dog, bless his little soul, is not a camping dog. I have gained pounds of guilt for every instance I glanced at him, shivering and shaking and looking at me with that pitiful "WWWHHHYYYYY do you have be tethered to something like this in this cold, cold place with all of these people and dogs I can't play with" look. He would nearly jump for joy (as much as his stubbiness allows for at least) when we crawled into the tent for the night and would whine until someone let him crawl to the bottom of a sleeping bag where he could finally cuddle up to someone and be loved and warm.

This morning the bickering came to a head when the girls were arguing over which of the *identical* camping chairs they got to sit in. I moved them to opposite sides of the campsite, and for the first time in three days, had some quiet. And it came to me...as much as I love children, other people's children really get to me sometimes. I can work with them yes, but when they are a part of my family for days at a time, I become someone I don't know that I like. I don't like the way they chew, or the nickname they have given my daughter, I don't like the tone of their voice when they are picking on my kid, or the way they pick their nose and eat it. When they roll all over everyone's bed buck naked, I am surprisingly grossed out. I hate when they ask my kid if her mom and dad ever have sex because it opens a door that no one is really ready to explore. It drives me batty when they burp as loud as they can in my ear and I can smell it, when they make farting and pooping and peeing noises, and when they ask to hold my dog's leash only to yank on it so hard it sends him into a coughing fit. And then, when they say I am the best cooker ever and give me a hug I feel like the worst person ever for thinking or feeling all those things and nearly cry out of guilt. Is this any easier when there is another parent there? Who knows. I don't.

We got home, dropped of the Friend and unloaded. We showered the grime off (why is it that scrubbing the shower can take 45 minutes to get it clean and then 7 minutes of showering renders it worthy of a pig-sty?) and Emily looked up at me as we were watching a movie and said "Momma, I really just want to lay in bed and snuggle and have 5 minutes where it's just me and you. Camping was fun, but I wish it was just you and I, even though I wanted her to come with us. I miss you."

*tear*

So we climbed into bed, and promptly feel into a cuddled-induced sleep for almost three hours.

I will now be spending the rest of my night on the quiet porch, with a glass of ginger ale, and nothing but my thoughts.

Or the latest episode of True Blood and a friend. We'll see.

There are times in my life where the words seems to flow endlessly out of me. Onto paper, into a computer, into someone else, into the air. They never stop. An endless train of consciousness or something like it. An incessant need to try and relate the experience of life in words that never seem to do it justice.

And then there are times when even if I try, no words will come because the emotion has welled up so intensely that the words fall away and all I need is to sit and feel. To observe. To witness. To be. It is in moments like these that my mind stops and my hearts bursts with gratefulness and joy for all that I have been given. Even the struggles are blessings in moments like these.

Summer is passing so quickly. One snapshot after the other in my mind of life the last few months. Emily is growing so fast. She now reads some of the bedtime story, and has lost her first two teeth recently. We have been spending a lot of time at the park playing, and by we, I mean her and her friends. I am the mom sitting on the bench realizing how fast my daughter is hurtling towards the point of not needing me as much as I need her. I find joy in her confidence in life, mingled with a little sadness that I couldn't have slowed it all down and enjoyed it more.

I worry about my mother more and more all the time. And my father. It's funny and discomforting to watch the process as you grow of your parents going from all-knowing, protecting giants to smaller, weaker, more insecure individuals. My father took that fall a lot faster in my eyes than my mom, and for very different, self-created reasons. But my mom, life has battered up and down and she is still there, still treading or moving on. Whether she's smiling or crying she is still living and moving and working towards a better life. I am proud of her. But it's an odd sensation to be on the side of life where I no longer expect shelter from her regardless of my struggles and also feel compelled to shelter and protect her.

I have amazing people in my life, and my mother is among the most amazing. Someday, I will write about her life.

Life is surrounding me with love. Friends that do stupid things just to see me smile, who drive impossible distances to eat ice cream on my couch and color with crayons, friends who throw aside their "adult maturity and pride" to watch stupid movies with me, friends who support me however I may need it in the blink of an eye and unquestioningly. And most recently, a man who will drive over in the middle of the night and bring me ice cream and sit up with me after I have eaten something I am allergic to, just so I don't panic about being alone if something really bad happens, who tells me how incredible he thinks I am, and who will do goofy things with me just for the sake of being silly and assinine.

I am working with my first client, and it's very awesome. Some Great Spirit is throwing me spiritual experiences left and right to pry open my eyes, my heart, my mind. My dog intuitively knows when to cuddle and when to give me space. My kitchen is full of food, my house is full of love.

Life is SO very good.