Still

Still, just about every time I climb into bed to fall asleep and snuggle up to her, or every morning when I feel her next to me, I pull her close, kiss her face, and say quietly, even as she’s sleeping, “I love you so much.” Claire was a baby when my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. During the brief 6.5 week window from diagnosis to death, my sister Sue commented that Claire was a little ray of sunshine for all of us in the midst of so much devastating sorrow. I thought of that tonight on her 7th birthday and it’s still true. This girl is a champion snuggler, a chocoholic, and her spice will surprise you. She’s genuinely funny and always has me laughing. She’s smart as a whip, energetic, happy, fiercely devoted, tender, and full of love. 7 years later, she’s still lighting up our world. 

Claire Elizabeth, I love you so. ❤️

Topknot

While driving Claire home from dance class today, the combo of this girl plus topknot was killing me. 

 We were listening to Meghan Trainor’s “Better When I’m Dancin’”, a song we both like these days. There’s a lyric in the song that says “I don’t know about you, but I feel better when I’m dancin.” Frequently when Claire hears that line she’ll look at me and say, 

“I actually do, Mom.”

Mmm hmm. Me too.

True words, those.

Sheesh. 

I am loving watching her grow up.

After School Dancing

You know how sometimes you have a moment that you think of and it just makes you happy?

This is one of mine.

Day 2 of school.

We're out on the back deck after school, eating these frozen juices from Costco (insert: so good!).

He was ebullient, and I was listening as he told me about everything that had happened that day. 

And I was playing one of his favorite songs (K'naan's Coca Cola Celebration's version of "Wavin' Flag") over and over.

This girl fell asleep on me,

and I watched him dance and dance in his happiness.

First Day

This was the first year where back to school meant going to public school.

Yep.
I said it.

The night before found me running to the store to buy some treats for their plates the next night at our "back to school" dinner.

I came home and stayed up late at the kitchen table writing them notes and hiding them in their backpacks with bubble gum, along with some notes from their dad.

I woke them up the next morning and made waffles with peaches and whipped cream for breakfast.

Threw a roast and some onions in the crock pot for dinner.

Everyone was out of bed, fast, the nerves and newness evident.

We ate, I made lunches for them and did Mia's hair.

We gathered in the school room before we left and I asked them to think of a story in the scriptures that exemplified courage, and then a time in their lives where they'd needed courage.

Isaiah referenced Daniel in the lions' den.

Benj talked about mountain biking for the first time, how he was simultaneously excited and scared.

Mia referenced a scriptural story where an individual had to go back and admit he was wrong. 

Then I read them a verse that I love in Deuteronomy (31:6):

"Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid...for the Lord thy God, He it is that doth go with thee; He will not fail thee, nor forsake thee."

And we prayed together in that room, with sun streaming in through the east windows.

Then we got up to go and I gave them skittles for their pockets.

They looked so cute.

Then, it was quick:

load in the car, drive to the school, drop them off.

They had balloons in a big arch out front and fun music blaring. 

The principal and several teachers were there to welcome all the kids on the first day and giving high fives. It was really awesome.

I hugged them goodbye and was fine until I could tell that Mia was on the verge of crying.

I called her back to the car and hugged her again and she held tight with teary eyes.

I was so proud watching them walk into school.

They didn't look back.

Even thinking about it now makes me tear up.

I drove away and cried.

But Claire and I kept busy that day.

We had two doctor appointments for me, and in between we hit the store to get balloons for our dinner.

At the second appointment we sat in the lobby reading while waiting to get called back.

(And incidentally, this is one of my very favorite picture books. If you haven't read Wilfred Gordon MacDonald Partridge, do it. It's tender and sweet. I love it every time.)

And then, soon enough, it was time to go and get them.

We waited anxiously in the car, watching for them.

And when they rounded the corner and saw us waiting there, they came running!

We drove home and went into the front room and they talked non-stop.

And then it was time for dinner.

Mia was helping with gravy, 

Isaiah was mixing the mashed potatoes (fresh out of the bathtub in his robe), I got out my Grandma Vera's rose china, set the table, and put a candy bar and tic tacs on each of their plates.

Oh, and snuggled this girl.

Menu: fall apart roast and onions, mashed potatoes, scratch gravy, roasted carrots, salad.

And, of course, "Christmas juice."

Here's to new beginnings.

11

They turned 11, and the day was much like the Monday afternoon of the day they were born.

I remember laying there, pushing those boys out of my body, and noticing the bright blue sky outside and the sunshine.

It was a beautiful day.

Funny what you remember. 

We had friends show up at 7:45 this morning with donuts, a sweet and lovely surprise for the boys.

I was already cooking sausage and planning to make scrambled eggs, but it turned out they ate donuts and sausage instead.
(Healthy.)

When we dropped them off at school, Claire and I ran errands and then came home to do party prep:

making chocolate cake (scratch chocolate cake with scratch peanut butter frosting and crumbled peanut butter cups)

and filling favor bags.

Then it was time to make the relay lists for the party. I split the boys into two teams and explained what they had to do: an act of service, 50 jumping jacks, a round of pictionary, a round of tricks on the trampoline, an egg/spoon relay down the backyard, 2 times around the block, and a scavenger hunt for 4 things. The winning team got full-size candy bars.

They nailed it, it was entertaining, and it kept things from getting too crazy. (You've got to harness the energy of all those tween boys!)

After the party was over, a lazy couple of glorious hours ensued. My sister and I talked on the deck. After she left, I sent friends home and made tacos and we took some pictures and then sat down to eat.

And then we gathered round for a new tradition: drawing words for the birthday peeps from the "oracle" box one of my sisters gave to me on my birthday this year, and writing wishes for the birthday peeps for the coming year. 

I choked up with one of Claire's simple messages:

Dear Isaiah, On your birthday I want to tell you that I love you always. Love, Claire

Mia wished that Benji would get a lego set that would end up being one of his all-time favorites and that Isaiah would make a meaningful friend.

Isaiah capitalized on a family joke when he wished Benji a bowl of salad.

And me? I offered a wish about Benj not letting fear hold him back, and I choked up when I read it out loud. (Isn't that one of those life lessons that most of us have to learn again and again?) And for Isaiah? That he'd make a delectable cake and get some new cologne, among other things.

And tonight, after the sound effects of a "fart in a can" gift Benji got had died down (You should have seen the laughter and fart imitations going down among all those boys while we were eating cake and ice cream and opening presents on the back lawn. I couldn't help it. I could. not. restrain. my laughter.), they read in their beds and then made me laugh with a rendition of "Do Your Ears Hang Low" that references the male anatomy as taught to them by a friend. 
(Insert: "Do your balls hang low?")

Oh. my. word.

And due to party prep, I didn't get to work today. The result? I worked late and looked up from my screen periodically at the three of them that fell asleep in my room. 

And you know what?

Tonight I’m feeling very aware of something as I look at each of them; their lengthening bodies, their peaceful faces, the noise of the day now quiet and still. 

It's that gentle, beautiful ache that reminds me they’ll be gone before I know it.

They have been--and are--the greatest privilege of my life.

Summer Night Wonder

You take perfect when you can get it,

and I caught it and held on tight tonight.

We went for a walk at dusk.

The western sky was gorgeous: pink and golden and dappled, and there was a breeze.

My oldest son has been loving on me lately, and tonight he grabbed my hand when we started to walk and he didn't let go.

I looked at Claire's cute outfit and watched her cute little bum as she walked in typical determined fashion in front of us.

Mia wore the shirt she made recently and sparkly shoes.

The boys were barefoot.

We were sharing some of our favorite memories, and we ran through a whole stretch of sprinklers a few blocks from our house.

(See the sprinkles of water on my shirt and Claire's?)

And then.

We walked a half mile to the river and the boys were commenting on how much lower the water is compared to in the spring. 

All of us walked over to see, and Isaiah and I saw it at the same time.

A beaver!

We've lived 5 blocks from the river for almost 8 years, and I honestly couldn't tell you how many times we've walked this exact stretch of road. 

But we've never seen a beaver before!

We watched him paddle around in the water and Claire, upon seeing him, exclaimed, 

"Oh my gosh, he's gigantic!" 

He settled in on the opposite bank with a stick. And even over the water we could hear him chewing it as we watched him, facing us, holding it in his hands, nibbling away. 

We stood there for a long time 

in complete wonder, admiring.

(Curses! that I couldn't get a good shot of him.)

And then, we walked home, resolving to drop in at his house tomorrow for another look. 

Claire requested we hit the sprinklers another time and we did.

The sky was stunning, and my son grabbed my hand again and held it all the way home.

Summer, I am loving you.

Special Number

Last week, Isaiah said something that left me totally amused.

Like, I was sitting in one of the chairs on the deck 

laughing out loud to myself in the aftermath.

It was the middle of the day, we were all outside talking, and Isaiah was telling me about a funny exchange I had forgotten about---something that happened at our last music night. Dave and Ryan were going to do a song together, 

and we'd come back round to them in the circle.

Dave stood up and headed through the kitchen, and I said, 

"Wait, aren't you guys gonna do your special number?" 

(I was thinking it was their turn and they were up.)

To which Dave responded, to everyone, 

"I'm gonna go do my own special number," 

as he headed toward the bathroom.

When Isaiah told the story and said Dave's line, 

he added, kind of as a quiet side note to us:

"And Benji's over there guffawing by the fire."

(About Dave's joke, of course.)

Guffawing!

I die.

(I love!, so much, that that's the word that came to his mind to describe Benji's laughter.)

And, one other thing about 10-year-old boys?

Try saying the word "balls," in practically any sort of context, 

without them considering it a reference and dissolving into laughter.

Just try it.

Welcome to my life.

Creative Play

We have been graced with some seriously gorgeous weather the last week and a half, folks.

Like, wow.

Beautiful beautiful, especially for the end of February.

And March hasn't disappointed so far.

The other day I was sitting at the kitchen table in the early afternoon.

I was writing an article for work, sitting in the sunshine as it streamed in through the window.

I stopped at one point to make a bag of popcorn and take it out to the kids who were busy outside.  

I snapped some photos, because they had created this whole shindig on the deck, and I hadn't even noticed.

And then, a while later, I snapped these photos through the window of this guy making his way around the yard on his bike.

And last week, when I went outside, I found them busy kitchening, setting up their own stations and busy creating.

And I thought about this quote by Fred Rogers that I totally love:

"Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning.

But for children, play is serious learning.

Play is really the work of childhood."

Honestly, who could give a care about school work on a day when they could be out using their minds like this---

stretching their limbs, 

being imaginative,

breathing fresh air,

soaking in sunshine?

Yes.

Play is the work of childhood.

That's their job.

An Exclamation

Recently I was sitting in the red chair in my front room.

It has been an unseasonably warm February and the kids were digging in the small flowerbed, just to the left when you walk out the back door onto the deck.

The back door was open.

I was reading something, but could hear them talking just outside the door.

I couldn't help but smile, tho, when, upon discovering something out there in the dirt,

I heard Benji exclaim, in all seriousness, in amazement:

"By jove!"

A few thoughts:

That kid.

He might drive me crazy sometimes, but I am so proud of him.

He makes me laugh.

He is endearing beyond belief.

And...my gosh, I love my kids.