Is anyone else's soul crying right now? I say soul because my eyes have not shed one tear since this all began. NOT ONE TEAR. Which is so strange for me. But my soul? It heaves up into my throat until I feel like I can't breathe. I worry that the virus has taken hold of me somehow in it's quiet stealth. I hold my breath for 10 seconds like that one article that I read told me to do to reassure me that my lungs are fine and I breathe out as slow and controlled as I can.
I feel like I am in a totally unique place. This is in part because I am a 4 on the enneagram scale and I always feel like whatever I am feeling or experiencing is completely unique to just me and there is no way that anyone else could understand. But also because, yeah, THIS IS A UNIQUE PLACE.
On one hand I am super comfortable at home, disturbingly so. In some weird way it's like the world has shifted to what I always wanted it to be. My family, at home, SUPER simplified and intense. No schedules or running around or intense extroverted requirements. This is kind of my dream.
But of course it's not my dream because we're in a global pandemic and no one knows shit about how this is all going to play out and to speculate and conjecture is just driving us all mad. NO ONE KNOWS.
Week 1 I did a cute little art project with the kids. I pulled out my good watercolors and paper and they filled their pages with sloppy rainbow goo and I meticulously copied some hand-lettering I found on pinterest of the phrase "We're all in this Together." We've heard the phrase thrown around, we've seen the ridiculously catchy and coordinated rendition in High School Musical. The truth is; we are and we aren't.
A few weeks back (who can count?) our pastor was preaching from an empty church, live streaming on a Sunday at 10. I'm paraphrasing in an embarrassingly simplified way, but what he said was "we're used to going through hard things together, and here we are, alone, but together." The truth is that technology is a sorry replacement for classrooms and churches, nights out with friends and meetings. More importantly, hugs from loved ones and hands on weary scared knees. For those of us with introverted tendencies it's that much harder to log on. It takes so much out of us that after a morning of zoom meetings for my kids with teachers for various subjects I can't bring myself to go to the moms group meet up that I probably need more than anything.
THIS IS THE WORST. But it isn't. I'm not dead. No one in my family or close circle is sick. Ian is actually working MORE from home than ever, and I'm getting relief pay from my tiny teaching job. We are truly in the best place that we could be in right now and it's still the hardest things we've ever done.
Now comes the reason that I don't hit publish anymore, don't post almost anything. What's my point? What's the thesis here? (Because you know the English major in me needs one and cringes every time I use a preposition to start a sentence...I'm sorry, it just FEELS RIGHT.)
I don't have one. Other than to vent, and flex my writing muscle, and freeze this bizarre moment in time for future Becky. I don't have words of wisdom or a way to fix any of this. But, I'm learning each day to appreciate where my feet are. To be here in these moments and hours and days and weeks. We'll never get them again and they are hard and crazy and incredibly precious. Some days I'm in my pjs until 2, just trying to survive, others I'm chopping wood and planning my vegetable garden and dreaming of fresh lumber for long anticipate projects.
We ARE all in this together. In our own ways. In our own places. Together, apart.
Thursday, April 16, 2020
Thursday, March 5, 2020
Somewhere Else
Sometimes I wake up and imagine I am somewhere else.
In Florida next to my mom and dad on the screened in porch watching the sun rise. The humidity seeping into my skin and warming me up in a way I haven't felt since September. Today I'll run on the beach, then take a cold shower. I'll sip iced tea by the pool and delve into a book. My children splash and dig the day away. I delight in their happiness. The hours will pass as the sun crosses the sky. Palm to palm. Dusk will greet us with oranges and pinks and a sweaty spritzer in my hand, a Seabreeze if I play my cards right. The day will be easy and long and so good.
In Europe on a trip with college friends. The sound of a loud foreign voice will wake us in the tiny beds we crashed in. Open windows to a bustling ancient city street. Market already buzzing. Decadent espresso pouring. I never wear the right shoes for all the cobblestone walking but I make do, my aching feet a distant whine among the adventures. This morning I forgot to read those last pages that are due so we cram over pastries in a street side cafe, run across town to the school room, giggling and observing. Class is the most fascinating ever. It always is because we are here. Somewhere electric and new. Tomorrow we leave for a new city. Tonight is our night to eat with the professor. He orders jugs of wine for the table in the native tongue and I salivate over dishes whose contents I don't know but whose smells tickle my palate in ways I've never known. Each bite is the best I've ever had. We walk the winding streets back to our hostel looking up at the same sky that cloaks our childhood homes oceans away.
In Montana on the top of a mountain. Or, we start below looking up a the peaks as the sun sneaks around the top. I'm up early here so I make a fire. A big crackling booming fire that lasts until it's time to suit up. Layers of wool and soft fleece so snug that stepping out into the arctic air feels fine and invigorating. That first lift up is always the most thrilling. How do I forget how swift and high it goes? I feel brave and strong and in awe each time. I love the gentler slopes. The ones where I don't have to work too hard. I love watching my children weave in front of me, the mama bear bringing up the rear making sure my chicks are in line. No food tastes as good as the bowl of chili for lunch or the cold beer in the hot tub with a stinging face at the end of a long skiing day. No bed feels as good as the plush mountain bed. No sleep as deep.
In Oak Park. In our first house we wake up altogether. The coffee pot broke months ago and us, living off of a grad school stipend, parents refuse to buy a new one when a pour over will do. We divide and conquer our day. Our little city is alive in the mornings. I decide to walk everywhere today because I can. We jog the mile and half to preschool drop off, stopping at a park, the library, the conservatory, and the bakery on the way home. We run into everyone along the way. Hellos and plans made and moods ever lifting. After preschool pick up and lunch I drink in my children. Their chubby cheeks and their squeaky voices, their bodies that fit just so on my hip, in my neck, under my chin on my lap. I make dinner with all three underfoot. Tonight it's a stew I cleverly prepped this morning. I love when I do that. We make fresh biscuits and dip and chew and sip. Life is so simple and full and together. Evenings are my favorites. The finish line is near. We family dance party the night away, or until bedtime. We read our three books, kiss our three babies, kiss each other, and crash.
In the cabin in the Northwoods. We went to bed by the loon call and wake up to the lapping on the shore. Morning work in the sun, cleaning windows and picking up sticks for the fire flows into kayak rides and berry picking. We can't hold the kids off any longer so we pull out the beach chairs, lather up and let them jump in the clear water. We take turns being the wingman on the boat. Laughing as the children tip off the flying tubes and scream in delight. Lose our voices shouting with excitement when a new one gets up on skis for the first time. Before dinner we pile on the pontoon for a slow cruise along the bays. We brings oodles of snacks and sparkly drinks. Dinner is an event. There's no better smell than a grill in summer. Twenty people around a table scooping and passing. Dogs drooling outside hoping for a snitch. We always have dessert. Special treats hidden in the highest cabinets that we always find, or a bonfire and smores made with chocolate candies. Cousins go to bed together. Adults stay up to play games and relax. Time for bed.
Another glorious day ahead.
In Florida next to my mom and dad on the screened in porch watching the sun rise. The humidity seeping into my skin and warming me up in a way I haven't felt since September. Today I'll run on the beach, then take a cold shower. I'll sip iced tea by the pool and delve into a book. My children splash and dig the day away. I delight in their happiness. The hours will pass as the sun crosses the sky. Palm to palm. Dusk will greet us with oranges and pinks and a sweaty spritzer in my hand, a Seabreeze if I play my cards right. The day will be easy and long and so good.
In Europe on a trip with college friends. The sound of a loud foreign voice will wake us in the tiny beds we crashed in. Open windows to a bustling ancient city street. Market already buzzing. Decadent espresso pouring. I never wear the right shoes for all the cobblestone walking but I make do, my aching feet a distant whine among the adventures. This morning I forgot to read those last pages that are due so we cram over pastries in a street side cafe, run across town to the school room, giggling and observing. Class is the most fascinating ever. It always is because we are here. Somewhere electric and new. Tomorrow we leave for a new city. Tonight is our night to eat with the professor. He orders jugs of wine for the table in the native tongue and I salivate over dishes whose contents I don't know but whose smells tickle my palate in ways I've never known. Each bite is the best I've ever had. We walk the winding streets back to our hostel looking up at the same sky that cloaks our childhood homes oceans away.
In Montana on the top of a mountain. Or, we start below looking up a the peaks as the sun sneaks around the top. I'm up early here so I make a fire. A big crackling booming fire that lasts until it's time to suit up. Layers of wool and soft fleece so snug that stepping out into the arctic air feels fine and invigorating. That first lift up is always the most thrilling. How do I forget how swift and high it goes? I feel brave and strong and in awe each time. I love the gentler slopes. The ones where I don't have to work too hard. I love watching my children weave in front of me, the mama bear bringing up the rear making sure my chicks are in line. No food tastes as good as the bowl of chili for lunch or the cold beer in the hot tub with a stinging face at the end of a long skiing day. No bed feels as good as the plush mountain bed. No sleep as deep.
In Oak Park. In our first house we wake up altogether. The coffee pot broke months ago and us, living off of a grad school stipend, parents refuse to buy a new one when a pour over will do. We divide and conquer our day. Our little city is alive in the mornings. I decide to walk everywhere today because I can. We jog the mile and half to preschool drop off, stopping at a park, the library, the conservatory, and the bakery on the way home. We run into everyone along the way. Hellos and plans made and moods ever lifting. After preschool pick up and lunch I drink in my children. Their chubby cheeks and their squeaky voices, their bodies that fit just so on my hip, in my neck, under my chin on my lap. I make dinner with all three underfoot. Tonight it's a stew I cleverly prepped this morning. I love when I do that. We make fresh biscuits and dip and chew and sip. Life is so simple and full and together. Evenings are my favorites. The finish line is near. We family dance party the night away, or until bedtime. We read our three books, kiss our three babies, kiss each other, and crash.
In the cabin in the Northwoods. We went to bed by the loon call and wake up to the lapping on the shore. Morning work in the sun, cleaning windows and picking up sticks for the fire flows into kayak rides and berry picking. We can't hold the kids off any longer so we pull out the beach chairs, lather up and let them jump in the clear water. We take turns being the wingman on the boat. Laughing as the children tip off the flying tubes and scream in delight. Lose our voices shouting with excitement when a new one gets up on skis for the first time. Before dinner we pile on the pontoon for a slow cruise along the bays. We brings oodles of snacks and sparkly drinks. Dinner is an event. There's no better smell than a grill in summer. Twenty people around a table scooping and passing. Dogs drooling outside hoping for a snitch. We always have dessert. Special treats hidden in the highest cabinets that we always find, or a bonfire and smores made with chocolate candies. Cousins go to bed together. Adults stay up to play games and relax. Time for bed.
Another glorious day ahead.
Wednesday, January 29, 2020
A Few of My (January) Favorite Things
Finding a new favorite illustrator and requesting all of their books from the library (Inga Moore is my current obsession, past obsessions include Marla Frazee and Elisa Kleven)
Spring catalogs filled with beautiful sunshiny prints on swimsuits and dresses, circled brightly in red with hopeful child hands.
A thick dusting of new snow to cover the grey and drape the trees in glittery white.
Hot drinks in cold hands.
Soups simmering with rich broth and hearty greens. The steam reminding our skin of summer.
Fires just because. And fires to warm toes and hands. And fires for light and crackle.
Front porches cluttered with sleds and skis and poles. Quiet school days with tracks in the yard from happy children playing the evenings away.
Small pots filled with hearty low light plants. Caring for them in remembrance of the greens of summer.
Candles on dining tables and mantles and every little place they can fit. Eager fingers lighting and basking and blowing them out over and over again.
Mismatched mid season mittens.
New board games, old card games.
Watching shows under ALL the blankets.
Dreaming of Spring, thankful for right now.
Spring catalogs filled with beautiful sunshiny prints on swimsuits and dresses, circled brightly in red with hopeful child hands.
A thick dusting of new snow to cover the grey and drape the trees in glittery white.
Hot drinks in cold hands.
Soups simmering with rich broth and hearty greens. The steam reminding our skin of summer.
Fires just because. And fires to warm toes and hands. And fires for light and crackle.
Front porches cluttered with sleds and skis and poles. Quiet school days with tracks in the yard from happy children playing the evenings away.
Small pots filled with hearty low light plants. Caring for them in remembrance of the greens of summer.
Candles on dining tables and mantles and every little place they can fit. Eager fingers lighting and basking and blowing them out over and over again.
Mismatched mid season mittens.
New board games, old card games.
Watching shows under ALL the blankets.
Dreaming of Spring, thankful for right now.
Thursday, December 5, 2019
Christmastime is Here
Hi Friends. It feels nice to be writing on this space today. Sometimes we all need old familiar things, don't we?
I'm sitting in our den, or I imagine it was the den before the previous owners updated this side of the house and turned it into a great room of sorts. In front of me is the fireplace with a half burned log left over from the fire I made on a whim at 2pm today. To the right is my snoring coonhound. To my left is glass door to our patio and the small woods out back. The fresh snow last weekend reminded us of how many animals freqent our yard with their telling tracks. To the side is one of our Christmas trees, small colored lights and almost too full with family ornaments. The kids decorated it entirely on their own this year while their cousins were in town from DC for Thanksgiving. Our other tree is in the living room. A tradition that started on our first Christmas here when all that was in that room were two rocking chairs and that tree.
Christmas feels so fast away this year. Was Thanksgiving late? I think so. It felt like I sneezed and we're 1/5 there this December. We're singing Christmas songs with the children at preschool, the kids have signed up for their Christmas Eve roles at church, my closet is bursting with not so hidden presents to be wrapped and my fingers can't move fast enough to knit all that I want in time for December 25.
I said yes to Elf on the shelf for the first year ever. Louise has been so sweetly asking for three years. So ours came in an amazon box. My story sticks that I ordered only a Christmas book but the Elf came too, I guess we can let him stay.
Jingle, our elf, has sparked some much needed childlike excitement about Christmas for me. He reminds me every day of my dad who was (and is) so filled with Christmas Joy. Just today he dropped by to deliver an ornament making kit for the kids. What a joy it is to live so close to be able to do that.
I find myself preemptively melancholy this season. I know it's over so soon. I just want to have this anticipatory feeling all through winter but I know that Christmas will come and go and January and February will be long and slow and I can do nothing to stop it.
I can do my best to embrace this season. I am so thankful for our Thanksgiving snow that allowed my three and cousins to spend hours upon hours outside. I am thankful for the extra costco sleds I stocked up on (I'm learning!) and extra boots and snow pants for those who needed them. I'm thankful for hot cocoa and santa mugs, shelves well stocked with puzzles and games, Christmas coloring books pulled out from years past and woven bins full of holiday stories.
I hope that you and yours are finding joy in this season but it's ok if you're not. Sadness has it's place at Christmas too.
All My Love,
I'm sitting in our den, or I imagine it was the den before the previous owners updated this side of the house and turned it into a great room of sorts. In front of me is the fireplace with a half burned log left over from the fire I made on a whim at 2pm today. To the right is my snoring coonhound. To my left is glass door to our patio and the small woods out back. The fresh snow last weekend reminded us of how many animals freqent our yard with their telling tracks. To the side is one of our Christmas trees, small colored lights and almost too full with family ornaments. The kids decorated it entirely on their own this year while their cousins were in town from DC for Thanksgiving. Our other tree is in the living room. A tradition that started on our first Christmas here when all that was in that room were two rocking chairs and that tree.
Christmas feels so fast away this year. Was Thanksgiving late? I think so. It felt like I sneezed and we're 1/5 there this December. We're singing Christmas songs with the children at preschool, the kids have signed up for their Christmas Eve roles at church, my closet is bursting with not so hidden presents to be wrapped and my fingers can't move fast enough to knit all that I want in time for December 25.
I said yes to Elf on the shelf for the first year ever. Louise has been so sweetly asking for three years. So ours came in an amazon box. My story sticks that I ordered only a Christmas book but the Elf came too, I guess we can let him stay.
Jingle, our elf, has sparked some much needed childlike excitement about Christmas for me. He reminds me every day of my dad who was (and is) so filled with Christmas Joy. Just today he dropped by to deliver an ornament making kit for the kids. What a joy it is to live so close to be able to do that.
I find myself preemptively melancholy this season. I know it's over so soon. I just want to have this anticipatory feeling all through winter but I know that Christmas will come and go and January and February will be long and slow and I can do nothing to stop it.
I can do my best to embrace this season. I am so thankful for our Thanksgiving snow that allowed my three and cousins to spend hours upon hours outside. I am thankful for the extra costco sleds I stocked up on (I'm learning!) and extra boots and snow pants for those who needed them. I'm thankful for hot cocoa and santa mugs, shelves well stocked with puzzles and games, Christmas coloring books pulled out from years past and woven bins full of holiday stories.
I hope that you and yours are finding joy in this season but it's ok if you're not. Sadness has it's place at Christmas too.
All My Love,
Thursday, October 3, 2019
Grey Fall Day
Today feels grey. The sun is actually trying to poke through after two days of solid rain and gloom. Thought my mood is still stuck in gloom.
Today is the day I feel the drudgery of school life with three little people. I am tired of packing lunches and getting up to an alarm in the dark and reminding over and over to pack backpacks and sign assignment notebooks and log reading minutes. The responsibilities feel crippling today.
I have yet to do my fall clean out. I'm only starting to switch out clothes and think about buying new snowboots for my ever growing children. The junk drawers remain cluttered and fall cleaning has not even begun. We've all had our first colds and I've already had to juggle work and sick kid life. Today it feels hard.
My kids are grumpy too, scratch that, the girls are grumpy. Ainsley has always had bigger than average feelings, mix in preteen hormones and it gets rough around here sometimes. Last night it was slamming doors off the bus and not wanting to read books with the family and hiding in dark rooms at church rather than rising above it.
Louise's sensitivity meter is off the charts most days. It's hard to not be able to say much around her for fear of tears. I spewed this morning about spelling homework and I thought she might not recover.
It's hard to start my day that way; being yelled at, problem solving so many things. It'd be like walking into work and having three people run up to you telling you all the things you did wrong yesterday and demanding immediate solutions. Only not like that because before that you'd probably be able to wake up and drink your coffee and get dressed in the peace and quite of your own home.
I wake up to a child angry at me for waking her up, annoyed that I can't find the right uniform, pissed off about breakfast and that she can't find HER hairbrush. It's all my fault, always. It wears on me.
I gave a big speech to Louise this morning about remembering to look for the good even when you feel grumpy and sad. Give yourself 3 minutes to wallow and then walk outside, look up at the sky and thank God for the day you have in front of you; for your health (or at least your breath), and your many blessings.
Today I'm going to try to follow my own advice. I'm going to drive to Ainsley's school to pay for a field trip she never told me she was going on (that's today and I got a phone call about), then perhaps a leisurely errand sipping a seasonal coffee and perusing holiday isles at a store. I'm almost done with my first batch of mittens for the kids so after a quick meeting at church I may hunker down for a fall movie and some knitting time. And hopefully once my kids get off the bus I'll have rebooted and they will have too.
Hoping the sun is peeking through the clouds for you all today. And if your sunshine is in abundance could you send a little my way?
Today is the day I feel the drudgery of school life with three little people. I am tired of packing lunches and getting up to an alarm in the dark and reminding over and over to pack backpacks and sign assignment notebooks and log reading minutes. The responsibilities feel crippling today.
I have yet to do my fall clean out. I'm only starting to switch out clothes and think about buying new snowboots for my ever growing children. The junk drawers remain cluttered and fall cleaning has not even begun. We've all had our first colds and I've already had to juggle work and sick kid life. Today it feels hard.
My kids are grumpy too, scratch that, the girls are grumpy. Ainsley has always had bigger than average feelings, mix in preteen hormones and it gets rough around here sometimes. Last night it was slamming doors off the bus and not wanting to read books with the family and hiding in dark rooms at church rather than rising above it.
Louise's sensitivity meter is off the charts most days. It's hard to not be able to say much around her for fear of tears. I spewed this morning about spelling homework and I thought she might not recover.
It's hard to start my day that way; being yelled at, problem solving so many things. It'd be like walking into work and having three people run up to you telling you all the things you did wrong yesterday and demanding immediate solutions. Only not like that because before that you'd probably be able to wake up and drink your coffee and get dressed in the peace and quite of your own home.
I wake up to a child angry at me for waking her up, annoyed that I can't find the right uniform, pissed off about breakfast and that she can't find HER hairbrush. It's all my fault, always. It wears on me.
I gave a big speech to Louise this morning about remembering to look for the good even when you feel grumpy and sad. Give yourself 3 minutes to wallow and then walk outside, look up at the sky and thank God for the day you have in front of you; for your health (or at least your breath), and your many blessings.
Today I'm going to try to follow my own advice. I'm going to drive to Ainsley's school to pay for a field trip she never told me she was going on (that's today and I got a phone call about), then perhaps a leisurely errand sipping a seasonal coffee and perusing holiday isles at a store. I'm almost done with my first batch of mittens for the kids so after a quick meeting at church I may hunker down for a fall movie and some knitting time. And hopefully once my kids get off the bus I'll have rebooted and they will have too.
Hoping the sun is peeking through the clouds for you all today. And if your sunshine is in abundance could you send a little my way?
Friday, September 20, 2019
New {School} Year
I just got back from my first field trip chaperone gig of the new school year. Louise's class went to the River Rendevous in Bloomington today, a gathering of reinactors teaching the children about different jobs and life in the 1800s.
Truthfully I didn't want to go. As the kids have gotten older I kind of dread chaperoning because the kids don't really need us much and unless my child wants to hang with me I'm left to stand around on my own or make conservation with the other parents with truthfully is NOT my thing.
Today there were 5 of us chaperoning and predictably the other 4 paired off and I was left to my own devices. One set of moms just met today but were basically the same person, super skinny and trendily dressed, three kids each the exact same ages, they even had the same lunch; quinoa and veggies and hard boiled egg whites.
I often feel out of place as a mom. I'm not skinny and trendy, I was just as excited to eat the chiabatta caprese sandwich as Louise so I made myself one, simple carbs and all. I'm not usually interested in striking up polite conversation and become instant BFFs and make plans immediately to hang out and do tibatta workouts together. It makes vollunteering for school stuff feel even harder sometimes.
Today I did it for Louise. My sweet just turned 9 year old who still clings to my hip a bit when we're out and about. Secretly I don't mind. I know soon enough she's going to want to be on her own, off with friends. This is my window. I'm holding on.
The start of school has gone as smoothly as ever. I can say that now that we are three weeks in. I am so thankful for Ainsley getting to start the year at her new school. She was so brave at open house day when she came with us to visit her old school while Louise and Felix met their new teachers. She's growing up so much and it's wonderful to see the pride she takes in her new school.
Louise and Felix are acclimating well. Louise is very go with the flow and a rigid rule follower so new routines and teachers and classmates seem easy for her to manage. Felix is also very go with the flow but is mourning the loss of little kid school with play time and many breaks in a day. I am mourning that too and thankful for so many neighborhood friends and a pretty open after school schedule so he (and the girls) can get their play time in.
I'm giving myself September to get used to this new school year. Work has been going smoothly and I am still thankful for that in my life. I'm struggling to fit it all in already, finding I'm craving lots of down time right now after the busy and loud summer with my children. I have lists and lists of projects and ideas that I was to see to fruition. I have so many appointments that I need to make and adult homeowner maintenance things to do.
For myself this new school year is going to be about finding my new adult self, post having babies and being a 24/7 stay at home parent. This is a new time of life for me and I find it's too easy to get swept up in the daily hum. I'm trying to savor the little best bits like Felix wanting group hugs from Ian and I every day and telling me "you're the best mom" and "I love you so much" umprompted, every hour we're togegther. And like Louise wanting us to tell her a story through her elephant every night like we do with Felix and his puppies and knowing that she's still little enough that she kind of believes her elephant is alive inside. Like Ainsley and my 2 hours a day that we get to ourselves that is mostly for REAL really good. How special to have that one on one time when she still wants it with me. I'm soaking it in.
Ian was gone on a business trip this week which is unusual for him. The parenting part was hard but fine. We all missed him a lot. How lucky that we miss each other when we're not together and that I tear up just thinking about these 4 people I live with every day that make my life completely meaningful Even if I don't ever finish our quilts or paint that dang painting for above the couch or install the handrawn tiles on the kitchen backsplash I am their mom and Ian's wife and right now that it the fullest and best job that I can think of.
Here's to a new (school) year. I hope yours is filled with as much thankfulness as mine is.
Truthfully I didn't want to go. As the kids have gotten older I kind of dread chaperoning because the kids don't really need us much and unless my child wants to hang with me I'm left to stand around on my own or make conservation with the other parents with truthfully is NOT my thing.
Today there were 5 of us chaperoning and predictably the other 4 paired off and I was left to my own devices. One set of moms just met today but were basically the same person, super skinny and trendily dressed, three kids each the exact same ages, they even had the same lunch; quinoa and veggies and hard boiled egg whites.
I often feel out of place as a mom. I'm not skinny and trendy, I was just as excited to eat the chiabatta caprese sandwich as Louise so I made myself one, simple carbs and all. I'm not usually interested in striking up polite conversation and become instant BFFs and make plans immediately to hang out and do tibatta workouts together. It makes vollunteering for school stuff feel even harder sometimes.
Today I did it for Louise. My sweet just turned 9 year old who still clings to my hip a bit when we're out and about. Secretly I don't mind. I know soon enough she's going to want to be on her own, off with friends. This is my window. I'm holding on.
The start of school has gone as smoothly as ever. I can say that now that we are three weeks in. I am so thankful for Ainsley getting to start the year at her new school. She was so brave at open house day when she came with us to visit her old school while Louise and Felix met their new teachers. She's growing up so much and it's wonderful to see the pride she takes in her new school.
Louise and Felix are acclimating well. Louise is very go with the flow and a rigid rule follower so new routines and teachers and classmates seem easy for her to manage. Felix is also very go with the flow but is mourning the loss of little kid school with play time and many breaks in a day. I am mourning that too and thankful for so many neighborhood friends and a pretty open after school schedule so he (and the girls) can get their play time in.
I'm giving myself September to get used to this new school year. Work has been going smoothly and I am still thankful for that in my life. I'm struggling to fit it all in already, finding I'm craving lots of down time right now after the busy and loud summer with my children. I have lists and lists of projects and ideas that I was to see to fruition. I have so many appointments that I need to make and adult homeowner maintenance things to do.
For myself this new school year is going to be about finding my new adult self, post having babies and being a 24/7 stay at home parent. This is a new time of life for me and I find it's too easy to get swept up in the daily hum. I'm trying to savor the little best bits like Felix wanting group hugs from Ian and I every day and telling me "you're the best mom" and "I love you so much" umprompted, every hour we're togegther. And like Louise wanting us to tell her a story through her elephant every night like we do with Felix and his puppies and knowing that she's still little enough that she kind of believes her elephant is alive inside. Like Ainsley and my 2 hours a day that we get to ourselves that is mostly for REAL really good. How special to have that one on one time when she still wants it with me. I'm soaking it in.
Ian was gone on a business trip this week which is unusual for him. The parenting part was hard but fine. We all missed him a lot. How lucky that we miss each other when we're not together and that I tear up just thinking about these 4 people I live with every day that make my life completely meaningful Even if I don't ever finish our quilts or paint that dang painting for above the couch or install the handrawn tiles on the kitchen backsplash I am their mom and Ian's wife and right now that it the fullest and best job that I can think of.
Here's to a new (school) year. I hope yours is filled with as much thankfulness as mine is.
Friday, May 17, 2019
May May
I love May. I know it's the craziest time of year for anyone with children in school/activities, but I love the month so full to bursting. Buds are opening all over our yard, just yesterday the waft of fresh lilacs from our side garden was deliciously overwhelming. My veggie garden is STILL not 100% planted, but as usual the promise of fresh veggies soon and the what ifs of trying some new things is tantilizing.
This Spring feels oddly settled for how truly unsettled and new most things are this season. Ainsley finishing up a mere two months in her new school. Felix dong spring soccer for the first time, (me somehow assistant coaching?) Louise at her new dance studio for the first year, production number and all. It's hard to believe that just last spring Felix was graduating preschool, I was dance recital hopping with the girls to pick a new studio for this year, and I was more worried than I'd ever been for summer going well with my three at home.
Turns out it was the easiest summer yet. My children all big enough to be out around the house without me right at their side, days easily filled with beaches and backyard pools and park visits. I've planned exponentially less this summer, and feel more confident than ever in the great time we're going to have.
Yesterday I spent some time researching and requesting my first round of summer themed books from the library. Almost nothing gets me more excited for a new season or holiday than that. I've spent so much time researching and reading children books I'm always astounded that that work is never complete. There are always new amazing things being written and many old books and authors and series that I somehow haven't stumbled across yet.
Looking back my passion for children's literature started with a course in college and then later a book I stumbled across at a recommendation from my first teacher colleague. I will never forget the class discussions on Despereaux, Esperanza Rising, and The Borrowers. Children's books can do amazing things, not just entertain but introduce and deal with big hard topics in a developmentally appropriate way for kids. I can't believe my own girls are nearly old enough to be reading some of those books soon.
P.S. I can't wait for them to be ready for Number the Stars. Another all time favorite of mine.
With children at different ages and with different personalities and preferences it's always a challenge to find books that I think they will all like to have read to them. In the summer one of my favorite things is sitting on a blanket in the shade, after lunch, reading to my children while they play close by.
My goal this summer is to read a chapter book a week with them. Some longer ones may take longer than that and some shorter we may breeze through in one or two sittings. It's a goal I feel excited about. 12 books. Here we go.
The Rescuers and Bed Nob and Broomsticks - I love reading classics and especially ones who's stories I think I know but are really very different (and often much better) than the films.
Tua and the Elephant - how could I not get this one for my elephant loving Louise. The story sounds so wonderful too.
Moomin Summer Madness - I have yet to read a moomin book with or without my children. This seemed like the perfect thing.
Little Bo (and series) - Mandy was one of my absolute top 10 novels that I loved as a child. Ainsley's too. To find a whole new-to-me series co-authored by our beloved Julie Andrews felt like a summer gift wrapped with the prettiest bow.
Traction Man (also a series) - I stumbled across this series when looking for summer themed books. A book later in the series takes place at a beach. It looks light and funny and just the thing Felix, and really all three, will love in between the longer novels.
Cilla Lee Jenkins (series) - I can't wait to meet this character. A newer series that looks amazing.
Raymie Nightingale - I can't possibly go the summer without a Kate DiCamillo read. Last summer it was Because of Winn Dixie on audio book and the Mercy Watson series was one of all of my kiddos first chapter book series'. She's just written a new book with a character she introduces here so I thought this was the right place to start. Maybe I'll get two Kate's this summer?! (and if you haven't read the miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane I can't recommend it enough. It's one of the few books Ainsey's ever snatched out of my hand to finish reading on her own because I wasn't going fast enough for her)
The Adventures of Nanny Piggins (series) I think my kids will love these books. I'm laughing just looking at the cover.
The Miniature World of Marvin and James- Another sweet looking series perfect to break up our longer books or even to read in one sitting at a beach or park. Very excited to have found these.
Bonus Summer book finding pro-tip: type "goes to the beach" or simply "beach" into the title search on your library's website. SO many options from favorite characters and authors. I have a whole bunch slotted to come right as summer starts.
Wishing you all a Marvelous May and wonderful start to summer.
This Spring feels oddly settled for how truly unsettled and new most things are this season. Ainsley finishing up a mere two months in her new school. Felix dong spring soccer for the first time, (me somehow assistant coaching?) Louise at her new dance studio for the first year, production number and all. It's hard to believe that just last spring Felix was graduating preschool, I was dance recital hopping with the girls to pick a new studio for this year, and I was more worried than I'd ever been for summer going well with my three at home.
Turns out it was the easiest summer yet. My children all big enough to be out around the house without me right at their side, days easily filled with beaches and backyard pools and park visits. I've planned exponentially less this summer, and feel more confident than ever in the great time we're going to have.
Yesterday I spent some time researching and requesting my first round of summer themed books from the library. Almost nothing gets me more excited for a new season or holiday than that. I've spent so much time researching and reading children books I'm always astounded that that work is never complete. There are always new amazing things being written and many old books and authors and series that I somehow haven't stumbled across yet.
Looking back my passion for children's literature started with a course in college and then later a book I stumbled across at a recommendation from my first teacher colleague. I will never forget the class discussions on Despereaux, Esperanza Rising, and The Borrowers. Children's books can do amazing things, not just entertain but introduce and deal with big hard topics in a developmentally appropriate way for kids. I can't believe my own girls are nearly old enough to be reading some of those books soon.
P.S. I can't wait for them to be ready for Number the Stars. Another all time favorite of mine.
With children at different ages and with different personalities and preferences it's always a challenge to find books that I think they will all like to have read to them. In the summer one of my favorite things is sitting on a blanket in the shade, after lunch, reading to my children while they play close by.
My goal this summer is to read a chapter book a week with them. Some longer ones may take longer than that and some shorter we may breeze through in one or two sittings. It's a goal I feel excited about. 12 books. Here we go.
The Rescuers and Bed Nob and Broomsticks - I love reading classics and especially ones who's stories I think I know but are really very different (and often much better) than the films.
Tua and the Elephant - how could I not get this one for my elephant loving Louise. The story sounds so wonderful too.
Moomin Summer Madness - I have yet to read a moomin book with or without my children. This seemed like the perfect thing.
Little Bo (and series) - Mandy was one of my absolute top 10 novels that I loved as a child. Ainsley's too. To find a whole new-to-me series co-authored by our beloved Julie Andrews felt like a summer gift wrapped with the prettiest bow.
Traction Man (also a series) - I stumbled across this series when looking for summer themed books. A book later in the series takes place at a beach. It looks light and funny and just the thing Felix, and really all three, will love in between the longer novels.
Cilla Lee Jenkins (series) - I can't wait to meet this character. A newer series that looks amazing.
Raymie Nightingale - I can't possibly go the summer without a Kate DiCamillo read. Last summer it was Because of Winn Dixie on audio book and the Mercy Watson series was one of all of my kiddos first chapter book series'. She's just written a new book with a character she introduces here so I thought this was the right place to start. Maybe I'll get two Kate's this summer?! (and if you haven't read the miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane I can't recommend it enough. It's one of the few books Ainsey's ever snatched out of my hand to finish reading on her own because I wasn't going fast enough for her)
The Adventures of Nanny Piggins (series) I think my kids will love these books. I'm laughing just looking at the cover.
The Miniature World of Marvin and James- Another sweet looking series perfect to break up our longer books or even to read in one sitting at a beach or park. Very excited to have found these.
Bonus Summer book finding pro-tip: type "goes to the beach" or simply "beach" into the title search on your library's website. SO many options from favorite characters and authors. I have a whole bunch slotted to come right as summer starts.
Wishing you all a Marvelous May and wonderful start to summer.
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