Chill Out. Laugh More. Be Kind.

(Picture taken off the pontoon boat during an anniversary get-away weekend at the lake, just me and Bryan.  The girls stayed with Grandma Rita and Pop)

*CHILL OUT. LAUGH MORE. BE KIND.

It's worth saying it again. This is what we decided our daily mantra should be while floating under this magical moon.

*Simplify, simplify, simplify the contents of our home and eventually the home building itself.

*Be outside with the kids. Take little adventures with them outdoors almost EVERY DAY.

*Let the kids' questions be the major part of our homeschooling/living/learning.

*Exercise most days. As often as possible, make these husband/wife awesome adventures--like kayaking together or at Kentucky Lake, trail running, or mountain biking.

*Recognize that the process is the end result. Priorities must be kept straight during the process, but the "goal" is to open up even more space to take family adventures, learn, play and do things for other people.

This constitutes a very brief summary of the decisions, epiphanies, and philosophies Bryan and I have discussed on our boat time together this summer...  :)

The 4th of July

A Holiday Weekend of swimming at Glendale, a jeep ride, fireworks with Uncle Ryan and Aunt Rachel, Cousin Maddox, Grandma Susie and Billy, and a party with friends.

A Saturday Night

I'm over a week behind on posting this, so this was actually Saturday, June 25th. The four of us went to explore Golconda, two of us on bikes. Caroline rode her trike occasionally and then opted to run beside her sister the rest of the way. Jenna is so proud to be riding her new bike! We ordered pizza from a local joint and played an arcade motorcycle game while we waited. It was a special Saturday night.

This Moment

A Sweet Girl finds a butterfly in the milkweed...

A passage from "Eleven" by Sandra Cisneros:

"What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are—underneath the year that makes you eleven.

Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe when you’re all grown up, maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three.

Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, one year inside the next. That’s how being eleven years old is"

I’m always trying to reach out and stop time somehow, to keep my children exactly as they are "right now." Yet, I also marvel at how the moment I am currently in always seems to be the sweetest one. That’s a comforting realization too. 

I love to think that no matter how old my girls get, the child they are right now will remain in some form forever.

So the rings on my tree?

I am reminded of how much I needed both of my parents by my side moments before my C-section with Caroline…of how I can get lost in constructing Star Wars battleships with the kids…of how magical The Grinch still feels to me.

I am reminded when I feel both like a woman and a little girl…..like when I lay outside under the stars on a quilt with my daughters bodies against me.

And I see the rings on my little girls’ trees growing. I see them sucking their thumbs and learning to swim. I hear them wanting to be held and needing to do "it" themselves. They giggle over bathroom humor and talk politely to adults. They are like the spring maples with the helicopters whizzing off of them....

A Poem I Love

I will not die an unlived live.
I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible;
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom,
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.

From the book I will not die an unlived life byDawna Markova. Utterly Beautiful. So much to think about and be moved by...

Just a Little Sampling of Sweetness Lately

A few Jenna moments that have touched me lately:

1. I was quietly rocking Jenna and Caroline the other night before bed, the two of them facing each other, when Jenna suddenly remarked, “I love my family.” 

2. Seeing my Mother’s Day drawing from Jenna on my bulletin board: Jenna and Mama “sewing a quilt together.”

3. When Jenna was leaving for bible school, I overheard her telling her sister (who was not going to Bible school), “Caroline, you can play with my people while I am gone today, okay?” That was more than okay with Caroline!

4. The kitties have spent most of their time in the barn or in the garage since Ruby's arrival and thus, haven't received much attention.After Jenna told me excitedly how happy one of the cats was to see her the other morning, she and Caroline coaxed that same cat out of the garage into the basement. They gave her a good petting along with a HUGE mound of food. Jenna also made a trail of food to the upstairs just in case Purcilla wanted to come upstairs for a little while(Purcilla declined) .

5. Last night, the four of us took a jeep ride around the property. After we had gotten away from the house, Caroline exclaimed "I forgot my blabby!" "Here, you can share mine, Caroline," Jenna told her.

I love you, Jenna. I’m so glad you are with us.