The Biblical Hall of S’Parenting: Joseph the s’father of Jesus. Princess Hatshepsut the s’mother of Moses. Sarah the s’mom to Ishamael.

As a s’mom, the journey into s’parenthood has been an adventure! Pretty soon I may add myself to the biblical canon of s’parenting. [No, I don’t have a lisp, I’m conjugating the words step and mom so parenting feels more s’real. I mean real.] It’s like tightrope walking without a net… while juggling… while your hair is on fire. Yup, just like that.

In my quest to build memories with Parker and Ryen, I’m quite prone to saying things like, Let’s go on an adventure! Whether it’s going to the market or going to the moon, I’m going to make it an adventure.

Take for example, an impromptu visit to the beach.

Matt was performing a wedding at a posh Laguna Beach location this past weekend. The day before the wedding, he had to attend the rehearsal and I had the day off so I suggested we head to Laguna all together. I would watch the kids while he’s at the rehearsal and we could meet up after for a stroll on the boardwalk and dinner. [See, I’m just like Carol Brady planning days o’ fun in the sun!]

We were dressed for a day of shopping, not scampering on the beach, but after my fabulous ideas of getting ice cream and window shopping were exhausted in the first five minutes of our adventure, Parker and Ryen insisted our adventure continue on the beach.

Unless you consider denim pants, a cardigan, and ballet flats beach attire, I wasn’t dressed for the beach. None of us were. But we kicked off our shoes and went out to the water’s edge. Parker asked to wet his toes. Ryen asked to wet her ankles. Parker said he saw a fish and wanted go in a little further. Ryen—not to be upstaged—said she should get it because her shorts are higher and they wouldn’t get wet.

Matt texted me to see how we’re doing. I sent him this:

Five minutes before submersion.

By the time I sent him the picture and looked back up, the kids were fully submerged because—get this—they fell into the water by accident. [Sure honey, and I’m a SuperModel.] Being drenched in clothes on Laguna Beach with dinner reservations calling our name didn’t make my definition of “adventure” but hey, why not go with it, eh?

I called Parker and Ryen to the shore and told them that we had to dry their clothes before dinner. Just take off your clothes and I’ll dry them on the beach while you guys play, I said normally. Almost on cue and in sync, they both replied in shock, YOU WANT US TO SWIM IN OUR UNDERWEAR? I explained that there are beaches in France where people are naked, so we’ll just pretend we’re French. 

They shrugged their shoulders and ran in their underwear back to the water. But as Parker touched the edge of the water, he turned around and yelled, Bonjour! To which I fell out laughing [this kid takes everything seriously]. I waved back like a proud French mom minus a beret and baguette and yelled, Bonjour mon ami!

Like zee Frwench do, I spoke wiff zee Frwench accent and called to les bebes, ParKer, RyEn, et is time to leave. Au revoir! 

Clearly this is the face of le’ confused French people.

Everything was fine and I was almost positive we would’ve pulled this adventure off without Matt having to know about my waning conviction to the word “no” until we walked back to the boardwalk. The entire time we thought we’d be able to pull off our secret adventure, but that all came to a screeching halt at a busy streetlight.

After meeting up with Matt and avoiding why there was sand in the kids’ hair, we casually began our stroll to dinner. While at a stop light with hoards of people around, Ryen looks up at me and says, B, can we just take off our clothes and be naked like the French people? Only to be followed up be Parker with, Then everyone would see your boobies, Ryen. But French people are allowed to look at boobies and we’re Frwench! To which he bursts out laughing at his own joke.

On the corner of Main and Pacific Coast Highway, Matt is mortified, Ryen is confused, Parker is in a fit of laughter, and me? Well, I was staring off into the street pretending that I had no clue who these weird people were.

And that, my friends, is how this s’mom will one day end up in the S’Parenting Hall of Fame. Or shame. But at least it was an adventure. And for that, I will proudly say bonjour mon ami!

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I will be speaking this weekend in San Diego as well as doing a workshop on step-parenting. This is the first time I’ve spoken on this subject and I’m quite nervous about sharing this aspect of my life. If you think about it, pray for me. Thank you… or as the French say, merci beaucoup!