I love it when Huck Finn and Luke Skywalker join forces to defeat the Dark Side.
Gardening is not really my thing. It’s one of those pursuits that I like better in theory than reality. So why did the kids and I plant our very first vegetable garden in the middle of a sweltering Texas summer?
Because even if gardening is not my thing, optimism totally is.
At 18 months old, everything about him is icing. His Little Man walk, his hilariously growing vocabulary (“goggles!”), his obsession with cats, lift-the-flap books, and any ball that can be hurled, kicked or slammed into a net.
Even his tantrums are freaking adorable. When he sprints away from me in a crowded park, racing toward the nearest body of water, I smile at his exaggerated motions and bow-legged steps.
When I say it’s time to go and he arches his back and slaps me on the chin, I can’t help but hug his squeezey little self. “No hitting, baby, but ohhh how I want to zerbert your belly right now.”
He is all about Mama. He takes 3-hour naps. He eats almost everything served to him without a single “eewww.”
When I pull out the camera, he is an easy photo-op waiting to happen. He does not intentionally pout, give his sister bunny ears or twist his hips in an uncomfortably provocative way. He usually looks straight at me as if to say:
“I know.”
This moment, this brief space between babyhood and toddler-hell, is so fleeting. I remember this deliciousness with his older siblings, and those memories still carry me through many a current challenge.
I remember well. So I’m relishing now. And trusting that his shine is just a glimmer of the little boy soon to come.
As Hubby likes to say: “Stay gold, Ponyboy.”
As I like to point out: The golden halo of light in that photo…it’s no coincidence.
Family, what are you thankful for today?
Highlights from this week:
New “machine robot” I made
We have two cars
The Sisters Grimm books
Hummus
Hubby and friend rescued us when car broke down
The kids love music
Smiley saying new words (“Mine!”)
Meatballs
23 books from library today
The super cold spring at Deep Eddy
Babysitter let me crash into the patio furniture from the tire swing (hmmm)
Choose Your Own Adventure books
I survived today’s run
Our good friends M and E
Great-Grandma’s birthday
Paper snowball fight
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Sunday Grace, our family gratitude journal, is updated weekly.
Read the entire series here.
Add this to the growing list of things I never thought I’d say as a parent:
“You have read TOO MUCH today…Go play or something!”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
What’s on your list?
Please indulge me a little cross-pollination…
The cool folks at Goodkin were kind enough to feature my kids’ bedrooms among the pages of their super stylish site. As an unapologetic HGTV-addict, I was very flattered to be included! In case you missed their posts, click below to see the full stories. And definitely browse through the rest of Goodkin’s features–they have so many fun ideas and fascinating stories about modern families. Now if only my kids’ rooms would stay this clean….
Rascal
Doodlebug
Smiley
Men have a reputation for lacking the multi-tasking gene that women loooove to brag about. My hubby and I are no exception to these stereotypes.
Meaning, he can’t multi-task and I like to brag.
Just the other day I was able to carry on a charming conversation, unload the dishwasher, reply to a text, referee a kid fight, and train a dog to give me a high-five…all in the same moment. I’m that good. Hubby doesn’t even like to say “multi-task,” much less attempt it.
However, I recently caught him working it like a pro! Here he is playing two different card games with the three monkeys…which required explaining the history of Vegas to one kid, making sure another didn’t change the rules mid-game, and guarding the entire scene from the child who is fond of mass destruction.
Gene or no gene, that kind of multi-tasking takes talent. Bravo!
Family, what are you thankful for today?
Highlights from this week:
Backyard baby pool
Barbecue
New vacuum cleaner
New splash park
Our funny baby
Music class
Felt like a wise, experienced mom today
Clowns (What? Are you sure we’re related?)
Dad is home from trip!
I’m home!
New sandals
Granna home from hospital
Playing with cousins
Fun-loving fathers
Happy Father’s Day to all you Dads!
What are the odds something goes wrong here?
The Guest House
~Rumi
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
I have been thinking about this poem for days, ever since my new favorite yoga teacher shared it in class. After years of yanking up the welcome mat before certain emotional guests arrive, or meeting them at the door with clenched teeth, or sabotaging their visit by leaving the toilet paper roll empty in the guest bath, I am finally learning to make peace with their sporadic arrivals.
But showing gratitude for their visits…well, I’m still working on that part.
Maybe more yoga will help.
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P.S. Have you clicked on that big orange button up there today?
Only one more day to vote! Thanks much!
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