Some Weekend Images

I say some weekend images, you are going to have to use your imagination here!  Sorry, there were many times I wished I'd had my camera!

One day my little four year-old was walking into an adjoining room with me following, when she tilted her head to the side and looked at me with measuring eyes as if she were just noticing something for the first time.  She poked a little finger in my direction and said "oh.  Look at your ears.  They're very small.   That's why you can't hear good."  (no trust me, I have just gotten really bad about tuning you out!)

We folded an entire weeks clothes, since we've been washer/dryer-less, to the sound of The Black Cauldron (with lots of prompts from me to "listen while you fold!" as little ones drifted into the story).   We sat in our mess and ate pizza with a tired Grandma and Grandpa, freshly moved.

Our after-church lunch on Sunday was as goofy a blend of different-aged chiming-in humor.  Somehow the conversation went from crowns (my tooth), to being dubbed a knight by the Queen of England (and turning to bite the sword each time it touched a shoulder).  Huh?  We were laughing so hard (me, sometimes in horror at things like the latter, or in horror at my own un-funny contributions, or at my husband's bewilderment that any of us could find any of it so funny-- ok, he did laugh a little).

We went for a walk on Sunday afternoon.  The mountains were a gorgeous neon green, with clouds playing checkers on jutting grey granite and black spotted pines and white capped snow.  The sky was a brilliant blue, slow-motion bumper-car puffball clouds, some melting into a misty grey almost as if they emanated from the ancient rock.  We traipsed across the garden, lined with rows of sprouting green and mud, across a pebble path, through some weeds, and across our neighbor's lawn.  We peered into a tree to see a magpie nest and tried to spy one of the baby birds before they've all left the nest, as mama bird perched anxiously on a nearby tree and crowed at us protectively.

When we were somewhat unsuccessful (sweet nest, I tell you) (only saw one baby, who wasn't very cooperative at giving us a good look), we scattered into various directions, little eyes looking at bugs or throwing rocks.  I waded into some knee high grass under a bending white willow thick with the smell of hollow-soil-- rotting wet tree bits and the fresh twang of wet spring grass.  We held our breath when we saw a fuzzy throated baby magpie just on the branch above us, hopping clumsily about on his branch.

Then we swashed back the way we came, leaving a winding tunnel of pressed grass in our wake, and undoubtedly a happy relieved baby and mama bird.

We decided to (redirect) a couple of restless little wandering littles and walked instead down the path in the other direction.  The gravel crunched beneath our feet, the syncopated rhythm of big strides and little as we talked in breathless excitement and breathed in the late afternoon coolness.  The sky to the north had a decided veil of misty grey reaching from cloud-tip to yellow, burnt orange, new green, and brown grasses.  I wrapped my arm around a little four year old's protruding tummy and pointed, showing her how the water in the clouds gets heavy and falls down as rain.   As we walked or skipped in our line of disparate heights and tempos, I breathed in the beautiful sky, the grass, as if saying hello to a long-lost friend.  It hit me in that moment, how much I love all these big and little people I get to call my family, the people I get to share so many adventures with.

We walked toward the white house with the red barn where a man was feeding his chickens.  And then it came.  A few drops and then a whole sheet of gray had reached us just as we were anticipating some chicken feeding, made us stop in our tracks, laugh, wonder, and run!  In a jagged line toward home, with shouts and laughs and littles boosted up on bigger backs.

We rushed inside and closed all of the windows one by one, a happy babble and dripping things.  Then we enjoyed a little treat around the table as we watched the rain come down outside, shrouding everything and sprinkling the windows in happy tears.

One little girl went back out, unbeknownst to us, until we saw her streaking through the rain on her bike, with streaming wet hair and a smile on her face!  (that girl!)

A do-nothing happy day.

Park Thoughts on Spring Break

You know, I have sure enjoyed planning out and executing some cultural events this year.  But when it comes right down to it, for me, the unscheduled times are just as refreshing and oh so needed sometimes.

We enjoyed a day visiting my mom over spring break, and I lugged my camera along to an impromptu park visit.  I love that my kids love to play and be together.  Trust me, we still have our moments, but I have been pleasantly surprised as a mother at how well my kids get along.  I love that they were all choosing to play together in some of these shots.  And yes, I would love to know what is going on in their minds, especially as I look back on some of these photos.  :)

Maybe that is just it...we all need time to wonder.  I love that at one point someone in each one of these photos is in his/her own little world, just wondering about something!  When do we lose that?  One of the beauties of childhood is discovery, and I've decided that discovery is aided times a million when one is outside.  (Agree or not?)

So glad my kids haven't outgrown parks yet.  I sure haven't.

 Um, like this girl's thoughts ^^.  I am often wondering.

 This slide was so super fast!  But fun.

Oh yeah, and just to keep it real?  These photos don't capture how I had to ditch my shoes to sprint down the hill after my four year old, who suddenly decided to book it back to Grandma's (that girl can run!) while I called, shouted, shouted louder, shouted frantically louder for her to STOP!  I thought she couldn't hear me. A lovey-dovey couple in the park were staring at me as if I were possessed.  But I did catch her right before she crossed a busy road, whew!  And it turns out she heard me all along, she just wanted to go to Grandma's.  :)  Maybe she thought if she got within Grandma's radius she would be protected from all foul happenings, including her mother's.

If you enjoyed this, check out this beautiful family under some gorgeous magnolia trees in Central Park.  Ah. So weird, but I'm tempted to print a couple of these off and frame them they are so beautiful.

How about you?  Formal activities or informal ones?  Or both in different ways?

Happy Birthday to Me

This picture just makes my heart melt.  And my frosting.  And my candle wax.  And just in case you are wondering, those cute little sticking out candles correctly represent my age-- the big 3-6.

I've been having a little mini mid-life crisis (nothing major, I promise) over the last few months, though I haven't mentioned it to anyone.  I have never had a mid-life crisis before, this is a first for me. :)

Up until this year, I always told myself that relatively speaking, I was still young (and still am! I hope to live to a ripe old age).  That I have lots of opportunities still ahead.  And I have reminded myself of all the people who have accomplished important things in their 30's and beyond (this woman inspires me!).  But for some reason, turning that leaf over into the upper 30's has had me panicking a bit.

It doesn't help that I have started having arthritis in my hands.  I wondered why my joints frequently felt achy and stiff until it hit me that I am already getting arthritis.  Ug!  Already?

But seeing my kiddos being so sweet and thoughtful makes me realize that it has all been worth it.  (remember last year?)  Aren't they so sweet?



Here for your laughing pleasure, a poem I wrote the night before my 30th birthday.  I never have been able to tweak it quite enough to like it (except for the end), but you get the picture. :)  Any suggestions appreciated, as always.  :)


On the Eve of My Thirtieth Birthday

I held you till you fell asleep

Your little body curled up to mine--

Still.

Then, reluctant arms

Put you to rest;

I looked over to

Your sister, sleeping

Like an angel

In her three year-old

Dreams.

When I looked in on

The big(ger) boy,

His legs propped like the poles of a tent,

Red cheeks from the uncomfortable heat

Of winter colds.

I held his hand for a minute

Or fifteen,

Smoothed his soft-straw hair,

Remembering our

Buddy-hood.

Felt his little heart beating in his chest,

Remembering the first time I heard

That sound,

An inauguration into the most

Beautiful

Awe

Of Motherhood.

Life Lately

I've been so busy!  New calling and a busy time of year!  But it's a busy good.  I've actually really, really simplified this year.  Or just really lowered my standards. :) It has been such a relief.   Going to blog about it some time before I die.  But not today, because my photos are uploading so slowly.  Even with the simplifying or the lowering my standards down to the bottom of the barrel, my feelings of peace alternate with mild panic attacks.  Prepping Christmas, especially with five kiddos, is a big deal. 


Went to see downtown all decked out for Christmas.  A cold but enjoyable night!  The kids loved riding the train.  :)


Aunt time over Thanksgiving.  This one is a precious commodity since we don't get to see her much.


This little zombie bookmark has been sitting around since Halloween until I recently put him away.  He makes me smile.  So cute!




Somebody got strep.  Poor girl.


Sick.  We got to have a quiet Sunday afternoon nap together.  You all know how good I must have looked.


First time to the Symphony.  It was magical!  The little girl on the right had a skip to her step and kept smiling.  She probably enjoyed being in the city at night.  We got seats on the highest balcony, and she ate it up.  Didn't hurt that they were playing Debussy and Ravel.  Ahhhh... It was so beautiful. It was a bunch of classy elderly people and....us.  Just to be fair, we got fussed over a couple of times by said older people, some of whom drew in a sharp breath of surprise when they found out it was this girl's first time to the symphony.  And we got super cheap seats ($9, right?) through Travelocity (what?  seems a little weird, but I'll take it).  Great even though two of us were sick.



Simplifying by making ginger people (this one is literally a ginger person...just for you Tia) instead of a house this year.  Was easy--my husband bought kits and the big kids each decorated their own with very little help.  Fun memories.

What is one of your Christmas traditions? 

Ode to an Unfinished Batch of Laundry

Busy week--- I have a really funny story for tomorrow.  For today, in the spirit of babies, here is a poem I wrote about one of my girls.

Ode to an Unfinished Batch of Laundry

A patchwork of pinks

Lies disheveled on the tiled

Laundry floor,

The washer door

Half open,

Waiting patiently

Like Cinderella’s gloved footman

At her carriage.

A splash of sunlight reaches across the floor to

Warm us

On this wintry day,

As I cradle baby’s

Down-soft head in my hands--

Breathing in her sweet smell,

Soaking in her smiles,

And pressing her

Milk-soft cheek to

Mine;

Letting the day melt away

As lullabies

Coo the

Half-finished laundry

Away into dreamland.



Here is a link to my favorite poem in this same vein.  Do you have a poem or story that inspires you?

Contrail

1. con·trail

noun /ˈkänˌtrāl/  A trail of condensed water from an aircraft or rocket at high altitude, seen as a white streak against the sky* Today The stroller left Three tracks In the dry brown dirt, Slow contrails From a micro trip Through tall yellow grass, Cattails glittering with dew-glass, And sun-crowned Scottish thistles. The sounds of a diminutive metropolis Hum around us-- Crickets chirruping contentedly, Songbirds babbling, trill-flit, The steady chuck-chuck of a Pasture sprinkler, And a horse Chewing in time. You point a chubby finger, Pausing for the word Your mouth hasn't tasted yet. I love your round Cheeks, Orange tiger-striped Jammas, And your expression, Discovering the world. Content today To make slow contrails in the dirt And watch an airplane hurry on her way, Trailing a silver buttermilk cloud As she rises over A hazy mountain With a faint buzz And disappears. Some day I'll be tracing my finger Across the sky, Watching your contrails As you hurry off to conquer the world. The little pointing finger Will be gone, And I'll remember this bucolic morning, My little boy's Tubby figure clad in Tiger-striped jammas, Looking at me as if I were the whole world. When it's my turn to fly over that Mountain, High up on my way to Arrivederci, I'll crane my neck And strain my eyes, Not for India's Mahal, But for a little Dirt path In the leaning afternoon grass And a little boy Frozen in time. This post based on this day. *Contrail definition by Google*