Write Read Learn

I Love Us

My brother, sister-in-law and niece drove down from Michigan for a short visit this weekend.  We usually get together once every few months, so we make the most of our time.

The weather Saturday was brisk, but it was a nice day.  We decided to go for a walk.  There is a trail and brewery not far from our house.  We hop into our cars.  Park.  Throw on our jackets and begin walking.

{The last time I was on this trail, my husband, son and mom found “treasures”.  Along the trail there is quite a bit of brush.  Within the brush we discovered debris.  Debris from buildings and even an old street light.  To most, garbage.}

“Hey, check this out!” followed by a “Ohh, cool!”.  I’m standing by the stroller, while my husband, son, brother, sister-in-law and niece are huddled around something in the brush.  As I’m standing there, people are walking by, looking up at them.  One woman said, “Hey, what are you guys looking for?”  “Bodies,” my husband replied.  Standing there, I chuckle.  “We’re looking for some treasures.”  She continues on walking.  We continue on looking.  We spent over an hour on our walk/adventure/treasure hunt.


My family is kinda unique.
I love us.

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6:41am

I look down at my computer.  6:41a.  All three of my boys are still asleep.  My husband, three year old, and two month old.  I can write.

It’s usually difficult for me to write everyday in March.  I still sign up for the challenge.  I still write when I can.  But I seem to always miss days.  This year, it’s really a challenge.

It is nearly impossible to write during the day.  When my two month old is taking a nap, I’m playing LEGOs, or cleaning mounds of dishes.  Usually something takes my time.  Nighttime is playing out to be my time to write.  That doesn’t go too well either.  The screen makes my sleep deprived eyes feel heavier.

So here I write, while I can.  I look and see that I have 8 drafts.  Maybe I can get to one of those today and publish.

“Mommy”……

Bumps and Edges

Today, Braeden worked on a puzzle.  A simple one, only 24 pieces.

As soon as we were done working on wood puzzles and started working on jigsaw puzzles, I introduced the terms: bumps and edges.  Together we would work on puzzles (not it one sitting, or in one day) and I would say, “Ok, we need to sort the bumps and edges.”  I explained why the bumps were called bumps, running his finger across them.  I explained why edges were edges and how they felt different than bumps.  Once our bumps and edges were sorted, I then explained the corners, “two edges that come together”.  We would then build the frame.  And fill it in.

As time went on, and puzzles became more complicated, I introduced the idea of looking for clues in each piece.  Once a clue was found, then we would try placing the piece in it’s spot.  If it didn’t work, we would try the same piece different ways before determining that it wasn’t the correct piece.

Most recently we’ve worked on 100 piece puzzles.  Once the frame was built, I introduced the idea that we should find pieces that have something in common, and put together that section of the puzzle.  We would do this over and over until the puzzle was complete.

We have started learning how to do jigsaw puzzles a little over a year ago.  Each time we would begin I felt that he seemed to forget everything we did prior.  We practiced so many times, why isn’t he using what I taught him?  I would try my best to keep my mouth shut when he was attempting to put pieces in all the wrong places, but I was overcome and always spoke.

This morning, he chose the Sesame Street puzzle.

We have done this one before, but there was something different about today.  I again found myself trying to keep my mouth shut.  Not understanding why he was trying pieces that clearly didn’t work.  We practiced so many strategies.

That’s when it hit me.

We.

Today, Braeden finished a puzzle.  And I watched.

Instead

This house is a mess.  I mean, maybe some would find this house to be “not that bad”.  But to me, it’s a mess.  As I write…wait, let me take another sip of wine.  Ahh, ok.  That helps.

You see, I’m sitting here writing while my house is a mess.

I have a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes.  And they’re not rinsed.  Nope, no time for that.  Instead I was probably spending time changing my 2 month old’s diapers.  You may think that doesn’t take a long time.  What you don’t realize is that he is so chatty, smiles a ton and squeals like a porpoise while I change his diaper.  It’s a time to look at each other, eye to eye and smile.  A time that makes me happy, even when he pees on me!

Wet clothes are in the dryer that I for some reason am attempting to clean, even-though they will be so wrinkled by the time I get to folding them tomorrow morning, or maybe tomorrow afternoon, actually who am I kidding; it will be tomorrow night!  Instead I was probably playing Legos with my 3 year old son.  We were fixing my castle.  He fixed is car.  And then we were searching a gazillion Legos for that one piece to finish his truck.  You know how that goes!

A small bowl of my son’s snack is still sitting in our sun room.  Been there since about 11am.  Stale and soggy.  Seems like a quick, pick it up and throw it out.  Not that simple.  Oh, I actually see part of a yellow pepper sitting on the coffee table in front of me right now.  Awesome!  Instead I was still trying to find that damn Lego piece!

I should probably stop before I embarrass myself.

This house is a mess.  And there are a lot of insteads.

That’s why I have an old trivet I purchased a while back at an antique store that reads, “Our house is clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy.”

Their Story

This one.  This one.  This one.

They all have a story.

This one is about being a wife.

This one is about the journey of becoming a mother.

This one, really more than one; actually most is about being a mother.

This one is about the tug o’ war with being a working mother.

This one is about being a teacher.

This one is about owning a house.

This one is about all the bills.

This one is about family.

This one is about friends.

This one is about me.

This one.  This one.  This one.

They all have a story; the story that tells of my life.

And I wouldn’t hide it for anything.  So stop and ask me about my gray hair.

I’ll tell you their story.

Surprised

I was surprised upon entering the gas station, low fuel light on, that I forgot my wallet at home; praying that I made it home and back again, I returned to the station.

“Braeden slept until 9:00a” which surprised me, because he always seems to wake up earlier when I am home…hmm.

A friend surprised me with a homemade piece of cheesecake, which tasted like Mint Meltaways, Andies Mints and Thin Mints; yeah the Girl Scout cookies and yeah it was that good.

While observing kindergarten students, I heard one share an observation that he made outside the school walls, which he was going to apply in his choice time today; they are becoming more aware and surprised by the world around them, simply amazing.

Surprised at the outcome when I listened to needs, gave choice and everything was still; quiet, with only a few voices.

Shortly after starting my drive home I received a text from my husband, a picture of someone that realized I would be seeing the gigantic cookie which was being eaten; surprised indeed.

You Danced, You Sang

In the middle of an aisle; in a grocery store…really any store.

You dance, you sing.

In the car; for what could be the whole drive.

You dance, you sing.

In the house; furniture is moved to make more room.

You dance, you sing.

In the restaurant; if the music really strikes you.

You dance, you sing.

Today we went to our local downtown, perused the shops and made our way to a restaurant for lunch.  Our walk slowed to a stop as we rounded the corner.  Right there in the middle of the sidewalk, the music could be heard.

You danced, you sang.

Not a care in the world.  Pure happiness.  Freedom and a love for life.  The music, the movement; bring you to this place.  I love that about you.

We stopped, giving you time to celebrate the music.

We stopped, giving ourselves time to celebrate the joy being felt in our hearts.