An Escape to Sutro

Ugh. That awkward moment of running to the store in a swift frenzy of waddling post-partum action, desperate to buy a few groceries while my Mom has two of the kids. The baby starts screaming as we walk through the automatically opening doors – just as I realize the store has been completely re-arranged, the coffee is not on Aisle 11 anymore!! My milk comes in with startling ferocity and lo! I’m leaking. Right then and there and I still don’t know where the damn coffee is.

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Oh yeah. I’m getting moments like this. Lots of ’em! I have no clue how these moms of 6, 7, 8 do it. I have no clue how other moms of 3 do it. I have no clue how I thought I could handle this, I’m so swimming with my head barely above the water now.

So let me talk about one bright moment – we went on over to the Sutro Baths in San Francisco.

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This is the thing about Sutro: it is gorgeous.

The tourists know this, of course, so it’s usually packed with camera-toting Asians, Indians with their cardigans draped over their shoulders and healthy-looking Europeans. Locals don’t hang out there anymore.

They did in the time of my Grandpa Jack though. Grandpa used to swim at Sutro, back when it was the Sutro Baths. Evidently, my Great-Grandpa knew Mr. Sutro.

Well, last Saturday Great-Grandpa’s Great-Great Grandchildren walked with the tourists on the walls that were once baths.

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 The ocean is fierce over there. Big, huge waves. Signs saying clearly that you had BETTER WATCH OUT – in a multitude of languages – because big waves have been known to snatch people and swiftly drown them.

I know these stories. I heard them often as a small child – Meriah, you’d BETTER WATCH OUT because those waves can sneak up and GET YOU. Just like The Blob.

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The light at Sutro can be perfect in only the way that light can be when it kisses the shore with love.

It’s magical.

I wanted to plunk myself down and spend hours counting waves.

Not that I did; you really can’t do that sort of thing anymore when you have three little kids. At least, I don’t know how to do that sort of thing yet.

Maybe someday though.

In the meantime, I’m just thrilled we were able to get out. Sometimes that’s all I can hope for right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meriah

is a deaf blogger, global nomad, tech-junkie, cat-lover, Trekkie, Celto-Teutonic-peasant-handed mom of 3 (one with Down syndrome and one gifted 2E).

She likes her coffee black and hot.


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3 Comments

  • I love the photos! And in terms of how moms with even more kids do it … remember that having 3 children typically means they are quite close in age. I remember when our third son was born. Our oldest wasn't quite yet five. Our middle son, at 2 1/2, had apraxia of speech. I was a mess. Somehow we survived the first year or so of ds#3's life and have lived to tell the tale.

    Now with four, it is different, but had our daughter been born any earlier, it would have still been hard. Thankfully, there is 9 1/2 years between our oldest and our youngest. Even our third son was at the age of putting himself into his car seat, getting himself dressed, and even able to pour his own cereal if he was hungry. Three kids … that was hard! Four are much easier.

    I can see 7, 8, or 9 (the thought, though, makes me shudder in fear!) being even easier because unless there are multiple sets of multiples in there, you have some wonderfully older children who can definitely help with the littles. 😉 Hang in there and know that even though this too shall pass, in hindsight it's not as bad as it seems now. 

  • ditto, by the time my little brother was born, the household was auto-ran by kids – 2 older sisters bathed, changed, soothed baby, An and I were babysitters and tasked with providing the naps and entertainment.  Mom fed him (bottle) 1/2 of the time, but any of the kids could, too.

  • I still can't imagine how having two could work out for me. That's why I only have ONE! LOLl! That's all I can manage right now. I'm sure you will get the hang of it with time!

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