Passes and Going Home

Parenting. Not easy. It's not difficult in the "oh man, how do I solve this Algebra problem, cook the perfect turducken, or solve world hunger" kind of way, more-so in the "how can I trick this thing into eating cheese puffs instead of following me into the bathroom because holyword do I need just 2 minutes alone without a sticky little (blessing from God) hand on me." My days are best described as equal parts love, manipulation, and naps. But something that also helps? Having passes to go to places that will aid in the entertainment of your child. I have passes to the Zoo, the Aquarium, and MOSI, which are all awesome, and now, thanks to my mom, I am also a pass holder at the Glazer Children's Museum in downtown Tampa. A museum in my favorite area of town, that connects to an amazing library with an awesome children's section, and that is also within walking distance of my favorite long, bay-front sidewalk for exercising on? Yes. Please. Thank you, Mom!

Turtle love at the zoo last week

Glazer Children's Museum sandbox this weekend.

Adirondack  Chairs for me to "actively watch my child learn and play" from, with a view of downtown. 

After the museum, we drove my mom past her childhood home in South Tampa. I have a few scattered memories of visiting my grandpa here in this home before he passed from Cancer. It's still standing, though all but just a tiny handful of the original homes in his neighborhood have long since been knocked down to make room for the McMansions that this area so close to Bayshore Blvd is known for. My grandpa was a small business owner of a sewing shop just off of Kennedy Blvd. I can still remember going into his shop with my sister and looking for buttons and glittery things all over his shop floors (meaning I would find them all, then my sister would order me to hand them all over to her. I think this was because she loved me). My mom told me a story this weekend that I had never heard before. She said that my grandpa loved to go to flea markets, and once while there, he bought my sister and I each feathery pins to attach to our book-bags for the first day back to school. We loved them and brought them out that night to a back-to-school skating event hosted by our church. While showing them off, another parent approached my mom and asked her why her daughters were wearing roach clips....whoops. Weed accessories are the new black? Harold Martin. He was a good man. Hardworking. Gone way too soon.

Former Martin Residence