wordless wednesday: saying no to bedtime.

(those are pajamas)

summer end.

this morning there was a chill in the air.  i woke to prepare two children for school.  i considered for the first time long sleeves.  we've arrived at the edge of the seasons. summer has not quite let us go; autumn has not yet made her arrival known, but she's hovering there on the edges letting us know she's coming. we will still reach eighty degrees by mid-day.  summer not quite ready to let go, and in some ways neither am i.

this summer was a whirl of activity. it seems every week, every weekend we had things to do. bedtimes shuffled between early and late as there were some weeks that we had a schedule to follow and others that required no early-rise.  i almost breathed a sigh of relief last week to have school and it's routine bedtimes and familiar rhythm come back into play.  then we had an earthquake and a tropical storm in the space of one week and suddenly schedules were thrown awry again. it seems that great Mother, Nature, is as unsettled as i am.

i love fall.  it is perhaps my favorite season and there is a lot to look forward to.  sweaters, blankets, the smell of woodsmoke wafting. apples from the orchard, pumpkins, acorns.  morning frost and the vivid color of fallen leaves blanketing the lawn and the back path. even more so than in summer the nature boxes will overflow and i will soon find the surfaces of the house covered with nature's sheddings. i have ten days vacation at Thanksgiving and Ed will return to spend the week with us.

these photos are from the one day of summer i ache to keep.  i wanted in the moment to stop time, bottle it, or perhaps in the most ridiculous scenario, relive it over and over and over. it was a hot August day. it was one of those days that we had no plan and nothing scheduled except "go to the beach". Ed was in from Colorado,staying for three days.  it had been six years since he had seen the ocean, a year for me, and a month for the girls.  we packed the cooler, the tunes and ourselves into the car in the morning.  walked the boardwalk, took Emily to the Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum, ate boardwalk fries with vinegar then hit the beach itself late afternoon as the crowds began thinking of packing it up and putting it away. the sea was soothing, there was no wind, no flies, it was in essence a perfect beach day. Ed swam, the girls rode their boards and i just stood among the waves letting them push me where they would, watching all of them, taking them in.  Ems and i sat on the beach letting the waves break over us, not minding our suits filling up with sand. we ate dinner on the edge of the dunes from the cooler and scared the seagulls and each other with a game of Truth or Dare.  we watched the sun go down behind us and finally pulled the girls from the ocean's grasp at 8:00 p.m.  i was exhausted as we started the three hour trek home, one girl asleep within 20 minutes, another within an hour and though I told him I never slept in the car, I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder halfway back.

i can't help but wish there were more days like these as time seems to be picking up speed around me.  the seasons, the years, seem to be moving so much faster these days.  summer fading, autumn coming and this winter i will turn 40. as we all grow and expand and return to one another i feel more strongly that amidst all the business, i must document and return to these days, hold tight to them as the winds change and as quickly as they came they are gone.

the call.

she calls "Mommy" in the night

and i jump four feet from sleep

running, no power, through the dark

to find her lying in bed, oblivious

talking through dreams.

there is no other love like this.

Just Now: 1st Day of School

From her school paper today:  About Me, Age 10


For Fun I Like To:   Swim
I Have A Pet:  dog, cat, rabbit
My Favorite Song Is:  Year Without Rain, Selena Gomez
My Lucky Number Is: 100
My Favorite Grade So Far: 4th
My Favorite Color:  Hot Pink
My Career Goal Is To Become A:  Florist
My Favorite Relative Is My:  Grandmom
If I Had My Own Car It Would Be:  a punchbuggy
I Wish My First Name Was:  Emma (my first choice, actually)
My Favorite Subject In School:  Science
My Favorite Time of Day Is:  8:00
My Favorite Season of The Year:  Summer
My Favorite Food:  Burger
The Best Book I Have Ever Read:  Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

From her school paper today:  Getting To Know You, Age 8


How Many People In Your Family:  three.  Emily, Mom, Karelyn
Do You Have Any Pets?  Yes.  Bunny. Cat. Dog.  Snowy, Anabell, Abby
What Is Your Favorite Color:  Red.
What Do You Do In Your Spare Time:  Read. Play with my sister.
What Is Your Best Subject In School:  Math
What Is Your Favorite Book:  Harry Potter
What Do You Like Most About School:  Math, Reading, Playing
What Is Your Favorite Food:  Strawberries
What Is Your Least Favorite Food:  Fish
What Is Your Favorite Sport:  Soccer
If You Had One Hundred Dollars, What Would You Do:  I would help the homeless.

wordless wednesday: tree climbing at age 10

mindful.

dissatisfaction seems to be around every corner.
at others, at the ones who can't be bothered
with anyone but themselves.
at home, in a million household frustrations
spilt milk, tempers, the floor needs swept again.
at the creativity that wells up inside,
but has no time to fly free.
at this body, that feels older and more broken
everyday.

then there are those little bits
the ones that lift you up.
a laugh on a porch swing
with your grandmother.
a fluffy cat purring in your ear.
a saturday spent re-reading a favorite book.
little arms, missing you after a day.
suddenly his voice unexpected
on a voicemail you didn't know you had.

i've tried to get back into practice.
meditation, mindfulness
the first noble truth.
life is difficult.
but then the second,
it is all a matter of perspective.

first mother poem

soft sweet sack

of flesh and bone

where will you take

my heart

i have been gathering things i've written about motherhood to put into one place.
doing so, i came across this short poem, the first one i wrote as a mother.
it was written when emily was an infant,
the photo however is of karelyn who came almost two years later.
i've none of emily online.
just stuck in picture books.
before i lived online,
before i nurtured my photographic talent,
but the wisdom of putting motherhood
into words,
apparently that was there all along.

{this moment} 8.19.11

{this moment}

 A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

A simple, special, extraordinary moment.

A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

"sparks of creativity"

would i? could i?

goodnight.

right now i am on the floor,

it is hot.  there is a thunderstorm lurking around the corner.

my hair is long and thick and sweaty on the back of my neck but i don't dare move it.

i'm still, so still.

rear numb, legs stuck together, my lap a little too warm from the resting laptop.

but it is alright.

because i am sitting between my two sweet girls.

tucked into the valley between their beds.

emily flat on her back, arms resting above her head

the cat curled leg to leg with her, breathing contentedly.

and i listen to the words of the song playing gently in the background,

"a gentle light fills my room, hello stars, hello moon..."
"all is still, and the day is gone, hello silence, hello calm..."

and i peer around to see karelyn next to me, heads level

staring at me in the dim light,

her hand resting on my shoulder as i write this.

damp and heavy, holding on to make sure i am here.

she is on her side, one arm pulled under her chin,

her bear tucked tight under the other, the one that reaches.

i lean over, to kiss her hand,

acknowledge her with my eyes,

let her know that this ritual can last as long as she needs it.

resting here beside her while she drifts off,

wanting her to know she is safe,

under her rainbow quilt,

bear barely breathing under her chin,

the dim light from the hallway eeking in,

the soft songs of reassurance in her ears,

and her mama right here, right here in the valley.

Calm Times

Last week we took the kids to the park, my previous sister-in-law and I.  

Five kids among us, smiling, laughing, running, climbing.  

Two women, standing.  

Standing being the operative word.  

Standing on our own with happy children. 

Children dealing with only childlike things.

Like rock climbing and log throwing

And why that boy won't stop following them on the playground.

Not things like addiction or family drama. 

It's a moment I will not likely soon forget, 

that moment when you realize everything is as it should be.  

Finally.

8.15.11 - Returning

Two weeks. 
I've made it two weeks.
Two weeks without words.
And yet somehow, they are bubbling about.
Percolating.
Impatiently waiting to be made visible.
Thoughts.
I put everything on the back burner.
Dreams.
Projects.
Love.
Yet,
Somehow
They won't let me alone.
So here we go again.

8.12.11

It's hard to believe it's coming soon, fall is my favorite

8.11.11

hard to believe this was Ems last summer

8.10.11

Ems and I, Longwood Gardens restroom, last Christmas.

8.9.11

she was such a little elfkin

8.8.11 Great-Grandpa

8.5.11

8.4.11 Memories of Nova Scotia

This is last summer.  Today my mother, brother and Claire leave to go up and join my step-dad.

Wish we could smuggle ourselves in the back.

8.3.11 A Favorite Series

8.2.11 - Summer Memories Past

8.1.11 - Current Intensity