On Being Quiet and When It’s Time To Push Through

I’ve let a whole year go by, full to the brim with memories and meals and friends and kids who just keep growing and growing. We are two weeks away from a whole new season around here: kindergarten. New school shoes have been purchased and just today a ‘big-kid’ lunchbox and water bottle.

I have resisted documenting the day to day because I’m hyper-sensitive to the criticism that blogs aren’t an authentic representation of a person’s life. Also, there’s a lot of navel-gazing and it’s as obnoxious to write about as it is to read sometimes.

But I just read about how when you tell a story, you have to narrow the big picture down to one tiny corner. Just describe that little spot in the upper-left hand corner and then go from there.

So here is a tiny corner, a little tidbit, that hopefully someday will jog my children’s memory and cause them to smile:

We are deeply entrenched in summer living. The house is almost always in some form of disarray. It’s cold cereal for breakfast and peanut butter for lunch. It’s too hot to play outside in the afternoon and Legos can literally be found on every surface in this house. I found some in my bed yesterday and stepped on one in the shower. How this happens is beyond me.

The boys are deeply tanned from a summer at the lake, riding bikes and swimming in friend’s pools. Scarlet’s baby-fine hair is bleached out and her cheeks are perpetually sun-kissed.

The wrestling is constant. So is the eating. But when I can step back from the chaos (which I’m not always very good at) I really relish at what good friend’s the kids are. They are happy and robust and so so loud. I beg them to sit down, to chew with their mouths closed, to pick up their shoes. But then they spend hours building legos or making forts or having some sort of complicated war/adventure in the backyard and I just love them so stinking much.

Isn’t that the crux of family life? It can be so constant, so totally taxing yet its the very best thing and when even one of your people is missing, it’s almost like you’ve lost a limb.

We took a day trip to Mount Rainier last weekend. We needed trees and fresh air and a break from the heat. So we loaded the car with water bottles and sandwiches and headed west. In the 9 years we’ve lived in our little Valley, we’ve never ventured there and now we regret every day we DIDN’T go because it was so stunning.

We chose a 1 mile each direction hike and set out. Luke and Scarlet climbed in and out of the stroller. We got in people’s way. There was a fair amount of whining. Aaron and I looked at each other silently wondering if this was worth the 2 hour drive. And then, all of a sudden, the kids spotted a snow field off in the distance and they pumped to see snow in August. And suddenly our little hike turned into a way bigger one but everyone was happy and energized. We made it to that snow, tossing soggy snowballs at each other, cooling down from our hike. We dipped fingers in glacier run-off and scooted back to the lodge for much-deserved ice cream cones.

It was a good good day. One of so many. I just need to write them down more often.

 

 

Happy Birthday Luke

Writing can give you what having a baby can give you: it can get you to start paying attention, can help you soften, can wake you up.   ann lammott, Bird by Bird

 

We celebrated our Lukey today with friends and water balloons, a big pile of sprinkled donuts and a slip n’ slide in the backyard. We ended the night with pizza on the grill, grandparents and chocolate cupcakes.

We just came off a week away as a family. Seven full days and nights as a family of five. We played hard; riding our bikes and walking all over the small town, swimming in the cold mountain lake, and taking boat rides whenever we could.

Our last night, Bopa (grandpa) bought a tube for the boat and everyone excitedly loaded up in the boat to go tubing. As each person took their turn, getting dumped in ‘whirpools’ and skipping across the lake, Lu’s face was priceless. He was worried, horrified, frightened and in complete awe watching his brother, dad and uncles get whipped around the behind the boat.

As his brother took a spill out of the tube, Luke shook with sobs. Worried Jack might be hurt or in danger so perfectly illuminated Luke’s personality and heart.

Tender-hearted, good-natured and easy-going for sure, but in the same breath he is tenacious, determined and flat out stubborn. He is charming and witty and gregarious. He knows how to talk himself out of trouble and is constantly sneaking out of timeout. He is a lover, often climbing into bed with us for a snuggle and tells all of us he loves us throughout the day.

I want to remember.

I want to remember the callous on his left thumb from sucking his thumb and the little chip in his front tooth. I want to remember that he was klutzy, constantly tripping and banging into things, covered in bruises. I hope I remember the way he lays on the kitchen floor cuddling Sadie and absently pats Rem’s head while he sits at the bar eating.

I want to remember how he was always the last one to fall asleep, always needs one more kiss or a drink of water. He loves cereal, snacks, ham sandwiches, hummus and any kind of fruit.

He taught himself to ride a bike this year, refusing our help and advice, slowly figuring it out for himself and building confidence along the way.

And Jason, the beloved imaginary friend, he still comes around nearly every day. I hope he stays a little longer.

Happiest of birthdays Luke Michael. You are a treasure and a joy. You were the surprise of a lifetime and every day I wake up wondering how I won the lottery with you.

I love you.

A New Day Rises

A post sitting in my drafts for two weeks and finally the words came. Little glimpses of the kids, what they are doing, talking about, the things I want to remember.

And when I go to grab a few photos to add to the post, the computer shakes and smokes, freezing up and forgetting those precious words.

Grrr.

Stupid technology. Stupid me for taking two weeks to write a dang post.

And now the baby cries from her crib, because that’s how it works. So much has happened this winter, packaged up in the regular everyday. The kids growing and changing and I want to remember. So for today, just pictures, and hopefully hopefully when I look back a few years now they will remind me and I will laugh. Luke’s first trip to the doctor for glue on his forehead three days before Christmas, Jack’s never ending love for all things Cabelas, an unbelievable family vacation, Scarlet’s infatuation with shoes and jewelry and babies. The sweetness and the chaos.

Halloween

Haters might hate, but here’s the truth:

I could care less about Halloween.

GASP!

Way back in the day, getting dressed up for a Halloween party would completely stress me out. I could never decide if my costume should be funny or ‘ahem’ sensual. Oh fine. Let the truth be the truth. Slutty. I could never decide between funny and slutty.

And then, thankfully, I had kids and the holiday became about them. Cute costumes, candy, carving pumpkins. And yes, some of it is super fun. Of course it is. But it’s almost never what you think it will be. Somebody cries or refuses to wear their costume. I remember begging Jack to wear a costume to his class party the first year of preschool. I think I might have even been mad at him for refusing. Now that’s ridiculous.

But something changed this year. We really and truly legitimately had fun. The boys were super excited to wear their costumes and go to their school parties. Jack wore not one but two costumes over the course of the day. Scarlet loved being a clown and was enamored with the pumpkins. The boys had fun trick or treating in our neighborhood and I gorged on their candy when their backs were turned.

It was a win-win for everybody.

 

Hapy Birthday Little Sister

Well. She went and did it. Scarlet turned one.

We had a sweet low-key (but very pink) family birthday party for her. It was perfect. Family we love, good food, a baby in a tutu and warm sunshine. I couldn’t have asked for a better day.

Birthdays are always a little bittersweet for me. I tend to feel a little sad on birthdays as I reflect on a year that has passed much too quickly. And this baby’s first year flew by in a blink of an eye.

But her birthday was joy-filled and full of little moments of sweetness that reminded me not to pine (too much) for the past.

A few captures from our little blue-eyed wonder’s special day:

Happiest of birthdays Sweet Scarlet,

You are our sunshine.

You complete our family. You are sass and spunk but dainty, gentle, sweet and so full of life. We love watching you grow and change into the amazingness of you.

We thank God every single day for you and can’t wait to see what this second year holds.

Love you baby girl.

Snapshot Life

Holy bananas…all three kids are napping at the same time. This is a rare and wonderful phenomenon that rarely takes place at our house. Cue the chorus, I’m ready for my hallelujah song. This mama needed 30 minutes of quiet solitude.

Anyway…

I’ve taken to using Siri on my phone, to make quick notes when one of the boys says something particularly funny, interesting, or (mostly) random. They always ask me why I’m talking TO my phone. Technology is weird and awesome.

Luke has an imaginary friend. His name is Jason. He has a brother. You have to drive past Costco on the highway, past the ‘fence yards’ to get to his house.

Man I love this kid.

If you ask Luke anything about Jason, he’ll have an answer for you. He knows his friend well! Jason like to ride bikes, but not play at the park. He does NOT have a little sister. He also likes peanut butter sandwiches.

Jack: Where does Jason live?

Luke: By the fence yards, past Costco.

Me: What’s the fence yard?

Luke (waving vaguely out the window): Mom! You know! The fence yards! (Duh!)

Jack: Where is Jason right now?

Luke: In Sun Valley. He’s on vacation.

****

Jack is a boy of (typically) few words. He’s always been much more of a doer than a talker. So it’s not uncommon for us to have a few minutes of silence in the car here and there. From the quiet backseat Jack offers the following deep thought:

Jack: “The only place I don’t make naughty choices is the cabin. If I’m there, I only make good choices. But if I’m in Yakima, I’m going to be naughty.”

Me: Ummm. Ok. How come you don’t make naughty choices at the cabin?

Jack: It’s just way more funner up there. There’s no time to be naughty.

Me: Good point buddy.

***

A quick clarification. Scarlet doesn’t actually turn one until the 24th. She was a solid week overdue. There’s just something about the ‘due date’ that I hold onto (stupidly, obviously).

This girl hates bibs. If it doesn’t snap on, she immediately rips it off. Velcro bibs belong on the floor according to this little lady. She also does not like to be fed with a spoon. On a rare, very hungry day, she will relent on her spoon policy, but most days it’s a no go. This means, her tray looks like this most of the time. Also, I would give my left foot for someone to do my laundry for me. Seriously.

The walking continues. She’s gaining confidence and momentum by the hour. So fun and scary to watch.

What a Difference a Year Makes

One year ago today I was hugely pregnant, on my due date, adrift in every emotion possible.

Today, my baby girl wore jeans for the first time, took 7 steps in a row and is currently screaming indignantly from her crib over the injustice of having to take a nap.

To say that the tail-end of my pregnancy with Scarlet was torturous would be a compliment. It was a distinct time in my life where I truly felt like I was wrestling; wrestling with expectations, my worries, hopes and fears and certainly in my relationship with my Creator.

As September has come around again THIS year, memories and emotions have flooded back to me. While wrestling isn’t comfortable, its agonizing really when you’re in the thick of it, it’s also sacred. And I’m grateful for that sacredness.

While I feel bittersweet over my last baby turning one I am marveling at what a year it was. A blessed, challenging, holy, amazing, sanctifying year.

 

Love and All That Mushy Stuff

Today Aaron and I have been married eight years.

And I love this man. More today than I ever thought I could eight years ago, and I know eight years from now I’ll be blown away with how much more I love him.

I’m a lucky girl.

Life has been particularly sweet this summer. A few date nights, lots of laughs, a couple of good gin and tonics, snuggles on the deck. We pass the baby back and forth, we smile knowingly at each other over the crazy things the boys do that only we could ever think is funny/cute/amazing.

We hold hands. We kiss and gross our kids out.

Really, I’m so lucky.

Happy eight years my love.

Grace in Small Things

Her:

Him:

Him:

Us:

This…all of this…a gift, a refiners fire, a hidden gem, a mountain top view, the hardest work, the ache, the joy, the pleasure:

It’s all grace.

 

Making Memories (even if it kills us)

“I think we just accept we’re going to be miserable for a long time until one day it pays off and we realize all this was worth it .

I mean, come on, we’re making memories.”

Wise words said by my husband as he stood in ankle deep water in the pitch black, packing up our tent trailer, as rain poured on us and a certain 9-month-old wailed from the truck.

We’ve decided to be a camping family…or maybe it’s a family who camps?

We bought a tent trailer right before Memorial Day and then proceeded to get completely rained out several weekends in a row. Two weekends ago we finally made our inaugural trip up into the ‘mountains.’

The boys rode their bikes, we had campfires, went for walks, threw rocks into the lake, explored a few (easy) trails, ate hot dogs. And let’s keep it real: we had very little sleep, we yelled at our kids. We drank a lot of coffee. We did a fair amount of gritting our teeth, but really and truly, it was fun.

Encouraged by our mostly successful first trip, we set out again. All started well. We met our friends, the kids were happy, the beer was cold and the weather was hot hot hot.

Cue Scarlet crying inconsolably all night long. And then the thunderstorms started, quickly followed by hail and rain. So much rain. The boys were troopers, watching movies on the iPad and riding their bikes through giant puddles in between storms. After each storm, the sky would clear and we would think, ok, this is it, it’s stopping, we’ll be fine. And then it would start again.

Finally in the pitch dark, in the pouring rain, as Scarlet cried and cried; I raised the white flag. No more. Time to go home.

And I’m so glad we did. But I’m also excited to head out again. In fact, I’m itching to try again. I want this for our family. I want these memories. I want the kids to remember the hustle and bustle of packing up, the anticipation of getting to our camp site. A couple of days, just us as a family, squashed together in a little trailer (that leaks a little and maybe smells a little musty).

I want the dirty feet and sunburned shoulders. I want sticky marshmallow fingers and sore legs from hiking and swimming and playing hard. I want memories imprinted into my children’s minds; our family together.

For Aaron and I, it’s a few more years of hard work. I need to remind myself of that. But already, we see the fruits of our labor. And if we get rained out and the baby cries, then ok, we’ll head home, regroup and try again next weekend.