Virtual Coffee II

It's Tuesday... so it's time for a little Virtual Coffee. Head over to Amy's for details and to check out more Virtual Coffee participants!

If we were really meeting for coffee today...

I'd be hounding the barista to see if they could make me a pumpkin spice latte even though it's a day away from September {and if I remember... they start making them in September... but I haven't been counting days or anything like that...}

When we got situated, me with my probably non fat vanilla latte that really isn't nearly as good as a pumpkin spice latte, I'd start to talk your ear off.

And I'd ask you if you had any idea how many different things you can do with Uno cards.

Seriously.

I busted them out earlier today, and Fynn and I matched numbers, practiced numbers, sorted, built card towers... and now he has a favorite number. Three. Of course. Because he's, you know, so three.

If you were sitting across from me at a little coffee shop, I'd casually whip out a certain membership card to a certain writer's community that I mentioned last week...

I'd probably tell you how it made me giddy to know that there's a card in my wallet that has to do with me and my passion, and it sits between the zoo membership and the beach pass. A little reminder of this process and creative journey. A reminder to simply write.

I'd have to tell you about our trip to the beach earlier today. We went, after a morning of errands and a nap that was too short for Paige, to get out of the house. And it was just too hot to go anywhere but the beach. But Fynn was acting like an old fart and made this face the whole time:

And Paige was happy as a pig in you know what for a while. I love this picture, because it shows exactly how she runs! Hands out by her side, open - grabbing and holding on to life and fun and excitement every single moment of her day. {things I do not love about the picture, naked kid in the background, skimpy bikini lady in the background... so there's a bit of editing, can you tell? ;)}

But it was high tide, and it looked like there was enough wood in the water that there had to have been a ship wreck or something... so Fynn didn't play in the water, and I stupidly let Paige slash around to her hearts content. Until she started screaming bloody murder, and I couldn't figure out why. I carried her up to the blanket, Paige writhing in pain, Fynn scared to death, people staring. Her feet were fine, legs fine... after stripping her down it turned out that she had wooden splinters in a very delicate area...

I'd spare you the removal of wooden splinter details. Just know my mommy skills were utilized, and the little girl is fine...

We didn't quite recover from that fiasco.

So I'd tell you about how we packed up, and it took forever to walk back to the car.

I'd whip out the camera that I always have with me and show you the silly faces the kids made when I asked them to stop for a picture. They did what they always do - Fynn turned his head the opposite direction and Paige said "CHEESE!!" {it's a miracle that I get any good shots of my kids}

They're funny kids.

I hope that if we were together today I'd remember to ask you about you and your family and your life. Or I hope you'd tell me to stop talking for a minute so you could get a word in edgewise.

I might have had a little too much caffeine already today... and when that happens, I have a hard time slowing down to listen.

So I'd apologize profusely :)

And then I'd thank you for putting up with me, and make plans to do this again next Tuesday, when hopefully there will be pumpkin spice lattes at our table.

Silly & sweet

She's one part silly...

...one part sweet...

...and all Paige.

The Gift of an Ordinary Day

Moments ago I finished Katrina Kenison's The Gift of an Ordinary Day.

This beautiful book has taken me longer to read than most. I savored the words, the emotions, the heaviness of the book in my lap as I underlined and starred passages. Katrina's words about living an intentional life and the journey she has taken to do so, have been with me the last few days.

I admit that this book hit home on so many levels. Katrina talks about parenting through adolescence, and from her words I could see a bit of my future. Mothering a teenage boy {she has two sons, so while Paige came to mind a few times, thoughts of Fynn, and similarities shared with her oldest son, were front and center}... the challenges and joys that come with letting go. But also I was reminded of those years and moments that I push out of memory, when I was a teenager, that I have yet to look through as a parent of a teen. The sympathy for my mother, the understanding and appreciation, welled up and leaked out of my eyes several times.

Finally, there was the issue of home. Of space and of feelings. One that I struggle with, especially now as our count down has started... in six months we'll be in a new place. Probably small, though hopefully a little roomier. It's an unknown right now. We have the date our lease is up, and an idea of where we'll look to rent next, but the unknown is looming overhead. Timing. Again, so many tears and emotions were conjured from Katrina's honest and lovely book.

Today, another Saturday that Lucas spent partly at work, the kids and I went on a morning hike to one of our favorite spots. And we soaked it all in. The background for me was not entirely made up of fields and train tracks and leaves on the brink of changing. It was made up of tearful moments of realizations that this ordinary day is quite beautiful in its own right...

I'll leave you with some of my favorite passages from a book now well marked and loved, a few pictures of my silly kids, and I encourage you all to check out The Gift of an Ordinary Day.

"The hardest part of being a parent may be learning to live with the fact that there are so many things we simply can't control, so much of the journey that is not our doing at all, but rather the work of the gods, the unfolding of destiny, fate. We give birth to our children, we love and cherish them, but we don't form or own them, any more than we can own the flowers blooming at our doorsteps or the land upon which we build our homes and invest our dreams. We may tend the garden for a while, take our brief turn upon the land, nurture the children delivered into our arms, but in truth we posses none of these things, nor can we write any life story but our own."

"If motherhood has taught me anything, it is that I cannot change my children, I can only change myself."

"There is, I remind myself, no more direct pathway to peace, no simpler way to encounter beauty, no better way of slowing down, than to try to practice devotion right where I am, doing each day's tasks as they come and building a life around what is already here."

"Maybe this is what I'm meant to understand during this slow descent into winter and all the changes that lie just around the corner. That there is no such thing as a charmed life, not for any of us, no matter where we live or how mindfully we attend to the tasks at hand. But there are charmed moments, all the time, in every life and in every day, if we are only awake enough to experience them when they come and wise enough to appreciate them."

**side note... Fynn's shirt says "Fight Pollution" - not just "Fight" as it appears in a few of the photos... yes, I feel this should be in bold lettering!!*

The Bigger Picture ~ Curly Locks

Welcome to Bigger Picture Moments, a weekly writing event sponsored by Bigger Picture Blogs. We welcome you to join us in finding the Bigger Picture amidst the hectic, everyday craziness in your week.

Head over to Maegan's to join in, share your link and spread the love by viewing and commenting on other Bigger Picture Moments. Next week Hyacynth will be hosting, and we hope you'll join us again!

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I remember being bathroom counter tall and watching my mother wrestle with her hair. Curls she would chop and then grow and chop and then grow again. She's smile as she futzed with mousses and banana clips, wink and talk about how she was blessed with "naturally curly hair" {in the exact tone as Frieda from the Peanuts}, sometimes bouncing the ends of her curls with the palm of her hand.

I'd giggle with her and look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Touch my short, mostly straight hair. Sigh sometimes. Dream of growing up and running my hands through spirals that bounced and stayed put and swirled around my head.

The mostly straight hair turned waves. Neither straight nor curls. In between.

Late childhood was spent sleeping on wet hair filled with foam pink curlers and plastic clasps, I was desperate for curly locks. I'd sleep {or rather, not sleep because of being poked in the scalp with the plastic devices....} fitfully, anxious for the new day and fresh curls. I'd wake to dry hair a few curls that would fizzle by mid morning. They quickly turned back to frizzy waves.

I thought of perms, drastic changes and measures, to have someone else's hair. But ultimately I settled for the other extreme. Stick straight, damaged, ironed hair.

After fostering an abusive relationship with my flat iron for years, I recently gave in to the in between. The waves and the frizz. And it wasn't pretty. But I kept on keeping on. My hair got longer, the frizz fuller, and it was me. Unpolished. Frazzled. But me.

A week or so ago I was at the grocery store and walked down the hair product aisle, looking for something, but unsure of what. I found a green bottle, mousse for curls. Extra strong.

I bought it. On a total whim.

And now, I wear my hair curly. With one minutes worth of polishing, my waves turn into the locks I never thought I would have. Shiny, bouncy, curls that swirl around my face.

The curls are now mine, along with a healthy does of acceptance. I look the way I feel. Some of the work that I've done on the inside is showing on the outside. And it feels good. The good, the beauty in us, takes time to shine through. To remind us, or show for the first time, that its always been there, waiting for a little bit of polish, a little bit of work.

Who knew that the simple solution to my hair problems was a regime that was less intensive than anything I'd tried before. And I didn't even have to touch the hair dryer. All thanks to a green bottle of mousse.

**edited to add picture of messy curls**

Virtual Coffee I

A while back I guest posted on Amy's site, Lucky Number13 for her Virtual Coffee post. Now, she's opened up Virtual Coffee and it's now a weekly link up! Please join us in a bit of warmth and friendship. If not this week, mark your calendar for next!

If we were to meet up for coffee today, we'd undoubtedly talk about the rain. It's been with us for four days. And while the kids are sad to not get outside, I'm reveling in the creativity that comes from days inside. Imaginative play and stories told. The moments that are ours. And the sound of the rain... it's a symphony made up of soothing notes and comforting harmonies.

If we were to sit with steaming cups between us, I'd tell you about the week Paige has had. This little amazing girl has said goodbye to diapers. I wouldn't tell you to boast that my two year old {an age which I never believed potty training would be possible...} is potty trained, but because I'm so proud of her. She had been teaching herself how to use the potty, and then after her check up last week, and with the blessing of her pediatrician, we moved forward full force. And she's got it. Yesterday was a break through day. And today, for the first time in years, I'm leaving the house without a diaper in my bag {but with lots, and lots, of changes of clothes... just in case...}

This morning, I'd tell you how I joined a writer's community in Boston. How I signed up for a workshop in November. How it cements certain things in my mind, and how intimidated and excited I am to sit in a room with a group of writers and... write. And share. And work.

Today I'd ask you if your babies are getting ready for their first days of school, as so many mother's are preparing for {or have already sent off...} their little ones to start new adventures. My heart aches for them, is excited for those kids, and I get a little twitchy thinking about Fynn starting Kindergarten in two years. Even two years away, it haunts my mind...

And today, as we said our goodbyes, I'd slip a cellophane package of freshly baked cookies, tied up in ribbon, into your bag. Everyone deserves a little treat... and these cookies are divine.

We'd wait for a break in the showers, and head our different directions. I'd ask where you're going, you'll do the same. I'd tell you we're going to brave the weather for a promised few pairs of new pink undies...

We'd embrace and smile and clutch keys and hold bags close to our bodies, and head out in rain.

Interview Meme

Shannon from Comments from a Non-Blogger tagged me in an interview type meme... I love Shannon's blog, and my only gripe with her is that I think she should post more often :) Thank you Shannon! You are such a lovely read, always.

What experience has most shaped you, and why?

It's really hard to pinpoint one experience. There was a death in our family when I was very pregnant with Fynn, and the family politics and drama that followed affected me deeply. To this day, I can say that it is one instance which put everything in perspective for me. What's important for me and little family, what I want to make sure happens and things that I pray will never happen. Talk about being vague... but it's not really my story to tell, as there were so many involved... unless I come out later with a tell all memoir ;) Real life is always better than fiction!

If you had a whole day with no commitments, what would you do?

Sleep. Write. Yoga.Beach. A long bath. Eat now and then ;)

What food or drink could you never give up?

Chocolate.

If you could travel anywhere, where would that be and why?

I'd go back to France, with my husband. I went on a school trip the summer after my Junior year of high school, and feel in love. I'd start in Paris, and then take a train down to Nice... I'd love to experience it all with my husband.

Who do you have a crush on?

Um... my husband... ;)

{and maybe Colin Firth...}

If you were leader of your country, what would you do?

I'd make this country more family friendly. From childcare costs to maternity/paternity leave... it's a huge problem.

Give me one easy savoury recipe that doesn’t include cheese.

No cheese?? I'm thinking really really hard for this one...

Here's one that we love(d) {I say loved because I'm not eating meat... but I guess I could do this with tofu?} Lighter General Tso's Chicken. So yummy.

What did you think you were going to be when you grew up?

An oceanographer. But only because I thought that meant I'd be able to swim with dolphins :) And then when I figured out that that wasn't the case I remember wanting to be a writer.

If you could spend just one day in someone else’s body, who would it be?

One of my kids. I'd love to know how that much energy feels!!!!!

Which woman writer – living or dead – do you most admire and why?

There are so many.... but the two that come to mind right away are Anne Lamott and Dani Shapiro. Anne Lamott is an inspiration to me, writing about her truth, her spirituality. And I guess the same goes for Dani Shapiro. Both write so profoundly in their essays/memoirs, as well as their fiction.

What character trait inspires you the most?

Sincerity.

What is your favorite kind of music?

I don't have one kind of favorite, but I will say that I love James Taylor, Joni Mitchell, as well as Jason Mraz and Ingrid Michaelson. More mellow I guess? Soulful?

Which book or books have inspired or touched you the most?

There have been so many over the years, I think it's all about reading the right book at the right time. And recently, it's been Anne Lamott's Rosie {I read that as I was questioning my own drinking...}, Dani Shapiro's Devotion, Brenda Uleand's If You Want to Write, and Elizabeth Strouts Olive Kitteridge.

What is your favorite family custom?

Making Christmas cookies and all other Christmas preparations :)

How/where did you meet your spouse/significant other?

Lucas and I met through a friend at work, at the company holiday party.

And now the game is for me to add a question and pass the meme along to a few other bloggers... My question:

What would the title of the movie about your life be?

I'd love for everyone to play along! But I'll pass this on to....

Ellie at One Crafty Mother

Amy at Lucky Number 13

Tatiana at I am Many Things

Something that's ours

Our day has gotten off to a rocky start.

Fynn went to bed late, up early, meltdowns right and left before 7:30.

The train tracks have already been put away... they need a break. They don't work well when they get torn apart and thrown. And they get upset when they see a big brother head butt a little sister because she's standing too close.

TV privileges have been revoked.

... and then reinstated when mommy just needs ONE MINUTE to put together a grocery list...

This mommy thing is hard.

No matter your personal hangups, mothering in itself is a difficult, lovely, mysterious, and painful job.

So the computer gets turned on to find a few recipes, and here I am.

The pull of this is something I've struggled with recently. The computer is my escape, my life line at times. But I know it takes me away from them.

Which is ok. They need time to play without me. I need time to spout some words someplace {and God forbid I pull out an actual pen and paper the kids think it's time for THEM to create something... which is beautiful and wonderful but I want to scream IT'S MINE!!!}

Maybe that's it. This place is MINE. Fynn's train tracks are HIS and Paige... well Paige thinks everything under this roof is HERS.

I think we need a break from mine and his and hers and make some ours.

Monsters & Courage

Today I have the honor of seeing my words on a site that I treasure. Last week Lindsey asked if she could poke through my archives and pick something to feature on her site, A Design So Vast. She chose a post that I had forgotten about, but one that is actually a favorite of mine.

Please head over, if not to see my words, but to visit Lindsey. She is a beautiful writer, and a friend that is so encouraging and warm. Her words often leave me speechless and breathless, full of inspiration and thought.

Happy Monday!

Walden

~~this post is dedicated to two of my fellow Walden Pond lovers... Chocolate Girl {who will visit one day...} and Kristen, who found my blog last year when I wrote about a trip to Walden Pond. Ladies, I thought of you both today as I walked around the pond. And I smiled, and even got a little teary for the fact that we share a love for such an incredible place. All my love...~~

There are certain places that ooze creativity, peace, and give you a sense of purpose. Walden Pond... oh yes... Walden Pond is one of them.

We ventured out, the four of us, dawning rain coats and long pants. We navigated tree branches and roots, pine cones, and other walkers.

Paige and Lucas had to turn around to go back to the car at one point, but Fynn and I kept going. He talked. I listened. I talked. I think he listened...

I tried to tell him about the magic of Walden. How a man lived there and wrote about nature and life and simplicity.

But the highlight of the walk for Fynn was not hearing about Thoreau or seeing the site where a little shack stood, looking out through the woods over the water. From last year, Fynn remember that somewhere in the woods were train tracks. And when we found them, it poured. But he was ecstatic, so we stayed for a few minutes.

Fynn told me about some "time tunnel" thing that occasionally trains go through, and what happens when you go through them. You go back in time, but you're the same, the places are just a little different.

So he says.

And so it was. We walked along the tracks for a bit, and then stepped through our own time tunnel of pine and birch trees.

It smelled like the beginning of fall, the last breaths of summer. A glimmer of red in the trees, a trace of camp fire in the air.

As I wrote last year, you can just feel sometime so incredible at Walden Pond. Maybe it's the awe of being in the same presence as such a beautiful writer. Seeing what he saw. Walking where he walked.

You all know my heart is at the beach, almost always. But the woods are a magical {for lack of a better word... maybe ethereal?} place full of quiet moments. A three year old grabbing his mamas hand, soaked with raindrops but still a warm embrace. Yes, magical.

Fynn and I made it around the entire pond. Me and my little trooper. We met up with Lucas and Paige and heard about their adventures.

We left soaked, dripping from head to foot. Cold and hungry and tired. But so very full.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life. And see if I could not learn what it had to teach and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

~Henry David Thoreau

It's Saturday

{notice two things about this picture, if not the fact that my daughter is a monkey... 1. she's wearing a DRESS and 2. she's wearing a TUTU! Two things that have suddenly become more than acceptable for Paige...}

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It's Saturday.

Lucas has worked late every night this week, and today, for the first time in the history of us, he has to go into work on a Saturday.

The kids and I head north to a BBQ hosted by a long time friend of mine, at her parents house. A house where I spent many a night in high school. Huddled in sleeping bags in the finished basement, giggling and telling teenage girl secrets and wondering about teenage girl things. The paneling holds some deep thoughts from my fourteen year old self... I didn't sleep much at their house, but my face always hurt the next day from laughing and smiling so very much.

We have fun, the kids and I. We play baseball and soccer. Fynn makes a ball thrower {I do not know the technical name of this thing, you push a button and it throws balls...} into a spaceship and amuses many of the guests with his "Three! Two! One! Blast OOOOOOFFFFFFFF!!!" He runs around with a plastic ball throwing contraption over his head, smiling and flying in any and all directions the wind blows him.

I say hi to a few people. Don't get to visit much... but that's okay. I miss Lucas. A few friends from a different life and I hug tight. And say pleasantries with meaning. Friends I hadn't seen in far too long.

It's Saturday.

We come home to an empty house. Kids wired from an exciting afternoon, climbing the walls {trying to use the thermostat for footing...} the easel, the couch... Mommy tired and punchy.

I've been punchy a lot this week...

Lucas comes home and takes the kids for a walk, giving me the quiet in the daylight time I've been craving all week. I want to write. I want to read. I want to make dinner without someone pulling on my leg and trying to pants me {seriously, it's the kids mission when I wear yoga pants...}

And I want to listen to Ingrid Michaelson. I always feel inspired and full of soul when I listen to her voice, hear her words.

But the media player on computer isn't working, so I embark on a search for my mp3 player. I know I unpacked it from my trip to New York. I just can't remember where I put it...

I go to my closet, the handle sticky from lollipop hands, enter the abyss of clothes and camping equipment and photo albums and Christmas decorations. I don't see it.

Hands sticky, I go back to the kitchen.

Remember another spot in the abyss that it could be... so I go back to the sticky handle {which is still sticky, as I type... hey... it's Saturday...} and it still isn't there.

Back to the kitchen, and there it is in the stationary basket on the counter.

I know the kids and Lucas are coming home soon so I start dinner, forgoing the writing and reading...

Put my ear buds in and let my hips sway and my heart sing... washing, chopping, creating a masterpiece of a Greek salad. Wait for my husband and my babies to return to a happier atmosphere and a lighter heart, open arms.

Thoughts of sticky handles and big hugs and sweet memories...

It's Saturday.

The Bigger Picture ~ Bringing a Little Light

Welcome to Bigger Picture Moments, a weekly writing event sponsored by Bigger Picture Blogs. We welcome you to join us in finding the Bigger Picture amidst the hectic, everyday craziness in your week.

Head over to Melissa's to join in, share your link and spread the love by viewing and commenting on other Bigger Picture Moments. Next week Maegan will be hosting, and we hope you'll join us again!

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Today marks another installment of The Bigger Picture.

Most times when I come to this space, I know what I'm going to write. I've thought through sentences and structure in my head, visualized it, and then I come and dump everything onto a blank screen, filling the emptiness that the courser leaves as it pulses.

Not today. I have the bigger picture in my head, but the pieces haven't filled themselves in.

My head is filled with fragments. About sobriety. About not drinking. About the stories and words that have gotten me this far. About how far I have to go.

But I'm focusing on the bigger picture. Not one that includes five years from now, or even a week from now.

The bigger picture is that I'm not drinking.

Today.

And I haven't for quite a few yesterdays.

I'm feeling scattered and tired. Weary and at that place where I know I need to do something else in order to keep moving forward with this. But I'm not sure what.

I'm bored with my sobriety.

I know it's a fragile thing. Not to be taken for granted or forgotten. When that happens I get cocky, and forget that it's a real thing. This disease, this addiction. And I pretend that it doesn't matter. But it does.

The other weekend, in the big city, I went into it with that cocky attitude. I thought I wouldn't be affected by the drinking and the parties and the drunkenness. But I was.

It was a wake up call and a good reminder. Luckily I was there with a bunch of other sober women, my sober sisters who know and understand. We didn't need words, just a look, and someone understood.

My alcoholism is always with me, whether I chose to see it each moment or not. It's there.

And the choice is mine to make every single day, multiple times a day. The choice not to drink, and the choice to make myself a priority over the addiction that lies in even the lightest hours of the day.

It's dark, but I am not.

I'm here. Not drinking. And bringing a little light to the darkness that addiction afflicts on so many. Talking about it. Hoping to help someone.

It's still scary, months later, to look back and know where I was, and even where I still am. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. But the thing that helps me is knowing that this sober community holds each other up, cheers each other on, celebrates and aches with each other.

For that I'm thankful.

For that I can see the bigger picture today. I'm here. Still sober.

Thank You Journal

To say that the blog community is made up of so many incredible link ups and memes is an understatement. Each Thursday Allison from Alli 'n Son hosts the Thank You Journal, where participants link up with posts full of gratitude.

I have the honor of guest posting at Alli 'n Son to ring in this weeks Thank You Journal. Please head over and check out Allisons always thoughtful and sweet blog. She shares her heart, stories about her son, recipes, and tips on how to trim your budget :)

Epiphany... thanks to the Pediatrician

Monday morning was spent at the pediatricians office. Nothing traumatic {except for the flu shot... my kids were lucky in that our office had just got a shipment in, so bing, bang, boom!} Paige had her two year well visit.

We love our pediatrician. Let's call him Dr. S. He's been ours since Fynn was about six months old. The nurses are always helpful and sweet, their call backs are timely, and Dr. S has a funny voice that cracks me up every single time. Almost Kermit the Frog'ish...

And the kids like him. So that's good.

Fynn brought toys from home to show him, Paige gave him her sweet eyes and mumbled a few answers to his questions.

Then Dr. S asked me a series of questions.

Dr. S: How's she eating?

Me: She eats everything!

Dr. S: Is she jumping?

Me: All the time, off the floor, off the couches, off the table...

{Dr. S gives sideways glance and shakes his head}

Dr. S: Is she putting words together?

Me: She's speaking in sentences.

{Dr. S looks surprised and pleased... good for mamas ego... which is - of course - why we go to well visits}

Dr. S: So, she's using verbs?

Me: {silence}

In my head I was trying to figure out if he understood the fact that I just said she's speaking in sentences. Sentences include verbs...

Finally I said yes, she's using verbs.

And that little voice in my head that pops up now and then was laughing, wondering if the pause caused a thought in his head questioning if I knew the definition of a verb.

That voice, that little voice that likes to tell me off now and then {which I found out at BlogHer that every writer has, and one person calls theirs the "itty bitty shitty committee" - LOVE that, and forget who said it...if it was you, please tell me!}... it actually said "now would be the time to tell the good Doctor S that I'm a writer, and it would be hysterical if a writer didn't know what a verb was..."

There it was.

For the first time I didn't need to be coaxed into calling myself a writer.

Even though it was only in my head, I called myself a writer.

So that means somewhere in this jumbled, cluttered, crazy brain of mine, I believe that I am a writer.

Wow.

Thank you Dr. S for the epiphany.

And for saying that my kids are two of your cutest and sweetest patients {and for saying that you don't say that to everyone... even though I know it's true, it's good to hear :)}

Rustic inspiration

I'm heading out of the weekend with a little bit of

rustic inspiration...

... and a hint of adventure to carry us through the coming days.

Summer night ramble

It's been nearly a week since my return from the big city.

And honestly, this week has been really strange.

We celebrated Paige's birthday, the year anniversary of this blog, realized we never really did anything to celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary {which occurred when I was at BlogHer...}, had a dream that has turned me from being an ambivalent meat eater into a full fledged vegetarian {Anyone have recipes/tips/advice? I know a few of you must be vegetarians...}, and tried desperately to get back into the groove of every day life.

But it's August. And this summer has been an up and down of waiting for and being excited for and getting to somewhere. So the every day groove? Not sure that's been around for quite a while.

We've gotten to all that we wanted to get to this summer. Which is incredible, but it leaves me aching for autumn, not really wanting to hang onto these last few weeks of summer.

Anyway. Back to this week. It was odd. I still don't feel like I'm back up to speed with things.

I think it's also that end of the summer fatigue. I'm absolutely exhausted. We've done a lot this summer. Day trips, adventures, more beach days than I can count. It's been full, and so much fun. But I'm ready to bring some structure to our days. This will be the last year that I'll have both the kids home with me full time - as Fynn will start preschool next fall {he's a November baby.. and we want him to have just one year of preschool... so another year at home it is!} but the kids are at that age where they need more brain stimulation than before. Both of them... so I have to put my thinking cap on and figure out ways for our days to go smoother by actually planning activities for our time at home.

Yikes.

These crazy smart and fun and funny kids have gotten so big over the last few months. At the end of the day I always take a look through the photos I've taken, and they are so tall. And their faces... their faces crack me up because sometimes I glance quickly and think "that can't be my kid! I've never seen that face before!"

But it's Fynn. And it's Paige. And they are rapidly becoming more themselves and less babies. Thankfully they embody every single age they've lived, so I can still see the newborn. The baby. The toddler. The boy and the girl. Sometimes it's hidden in there, but I know they still have bits of those stages in them. Somewhere.

Fynn's sneaky... one minute he has that glimmer that something could be happening and in the next second he's doing it. Turning the hint of an idea into the real thing.

He makes things happen.

Again, yikes.

In any case, it's been a while since I've rambled here. I've been trying to put together more concise posts that have a meaning and say something specific. But here, right now, I'm just in the mood for sharing a few pictures and rambling about my kids and my lack of focus.

I'm off to change into comfy warm pj's, sip on some hot tea, and enjoy the late summer evening chill that we're greeting with open arms.

Is it time for pumpkin lattes yet? Please tell me it is.

Also, seriously, any tips/advice for a new vegetarian {though... I have never been a huge meat eater, so it's not all that foreign to me, but I'm in the research and go mode, so I'll take any and all recipes you all have to offer...} and activities to do at home with the kids {because, frankly, I'm all out, and looking towards fall and winter is making me twitchy thinking about keeping us all sane when we're at home....} I'm all ears.

Thanks for listening and tuning in for another one of my rambles...

Enjoying the passage of time...

This morning began with chocolate donuts, presents wrapped in cupcakes and glitter, and happiness. There was more than a hint of celebration in the air.

Two years ago Paige made her entrance into this world. My head still cannot grasp what having a daughter means. What having two children means. What having Paige in our lives means to our family.

Today we're celebrating and remembering, possibly getting misty eyed and sentimental.

As I stood in the shower this morning I was acutely aware of my body. I ran my hands over my stomach, remembering the big belly full of baby that was there. Two years ago at that moment I was entering the transitional phase of labor. And I remembered that morning. I remembered the shower I took the morning Paige was born, how I grabbed my pregnant belly out of joy and pain and fear and excitement as contractions poured over and through my body.

The want to see her. To hold her. To have her in my arms and smell her. To touch and feel. To drink in her loveliness.

This morning I stood with water streaming down my body, hot tears down my cheeks, and I marveled at the wonder of life. The beauty of creating life, the intensity of the passage of time.

It's no wonder that today, of all days, I have James Taylor's The Secret of Life in my head.

Watching my daughter, this little intense soul fill our lives with such joy and light, it's hard not to be overwhelmed by the passage of time.

I love birthdays. Not for the numbers, as I'm not numbers person in the least. But because they give us a chance to celebrate all the moments that create life. The early days when she was nestled snuggly in my burgeoning belly, when it was just her and me and flutters and kicks. The hours spent with her in a wrap on my chest, little head tucked under my chin, baby fingers next to exposed skin. The first giggles and laughs. The smiles and snuggles.

Paige embodies the joy of life. She feels it. She takes it all in and asks for more at the end of the day. Paige is on the ride, and brings everyone she meets on it as well, reminding us to enjoy. To giggle and be silly. To hug big and smile wide and to wear fairy wings to the zoo if that's what makes us happy.

Today I'm celebrating my baby girl {who would tilt her head, raise her eyebrows and say "baby no more..."} and all the moments that have made up her life so far, and all the ones to come.

She knows the secret of life.
And every day, she reminds me.

It's such a lovely ride...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time

Any fool can do it

There ain't nothing to it

Nobody knows how we got to

The top of the hill

But since we're on our way down

We might as well enjoy the ride

The secret of love is in opening up your heart

It's okay to feel afraid

But don't let that stand in your way no

'Cause anyone knows that love is the only road

And since we're only here for a while yeah

Might as well show some style

Give us a smile now

Isn't it a lovely ride

Sliding down

And gliding down

Try not to try too hard

It's just a lovely ride

~James Taylor, The Secret of Life

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was my Bigger Picture Moment... where we stop and find the Bigger Picture in our every day ups and downs... please be sure to head over to Sarah's to check out more, and then next week over at Melissa's.