When we were camping last week, I realized that Max will spend the majority of his life here in California. That means the activities he’s exposed to will shape who he is. Already, his best friend (and yes, he’s 6) surfs. Kids of all ages longboard. There’s scuba diving, snorkeling and kayaking too. I love this.

I love that he may grow up to be an amazing swimmer in the ocean and get to participate in all these sports that we didn’t have in the south. Then again, he might not like them at all.

It’s just that California kids are different than kids anywhere else. I see that now. I’m happy to raise him in a place that gives my soul comfort food in the form of the ocean, which I’ve long drawn power from. I’m happy to raise him in a place where you can go camping right in the city and not worry about bad guys. I’m happy to raise him in a place that values eco-friendly products and practices.

I’m just happy to raise him.

Yesterday, he couldn’t ride his bike. In fact, he had a meltdown when Papa tried to teach him.

Today he can.

Do you remember the day you learned to ride your bike? I do. I had a Strawberry Shortcake bike, with pink banana seat and red and white streamers. I remember my dad pushing me off, me begging him not to let go and when he did, as all dads do, that feeling of freedom, knowing I was doing it all on my own.

I hope my son felt that today.

I told him he would never forget this day. We marked it with ice cream, as is necessary for any landmark moment.

It’s going by too fast…

I just watched Now and Then, which put me in the mood to write this.

When did we stop believing? I remember when I filled my bed with stuffed animals and had conversations with them until I fell asleep. When I fully believed the tooth fairy left me a dollar for the hollow bloody tooth I left under my pillow. When the world was full of possibilities, and magic was around every corner?

What happened? I believed as a child I’d still believe in magic when I grew up. At one point did I/you/we stop believing in it all?

I remember the day I learned about Santa. My friend (if you can call her that) Courtney just blurted it out in first grade. First grade! Far too young to discover that the world had been stripped of magic. I felt dismayed and disappointed. I wished the magic would last a little longer.

I knew a girl who believed in Santa til 6th grade (or so she said). For Max, I want something between these two scenarios. I want the possibility of magic to live on for him as long as possible. I want him to believe.