Thirteen years and a trip to Cancun

This was so fun. And short.  And relaxing. And adventurous And good for us.  And yummy-gain 5lbs in 4 days yummy.  Did I mention fun?  There was probably a little too much thought and preparation that went into it, but you tend to get overly invested when you do this sort of trip once every 13 years.  I think we are going to try and remedy that.:)

Invincible Summer

While reading through one of my favorite magazine publications I came upon this article written by Shauna Niequist, and couldn't help but smile. Her musings on the joy of living like it's summer all year long,  made me immediately think of my daughter, who is quite appropratietly named Summer.  It's funny how a name can fit, so perfectly.  And how in describing life, Shauna so precisely described my joy filled adventurer of a daughter-who will be the death of me.  I wanted to share her words here, because this publication is not going to survive many more weeks on the ottoman in this house (giving it weeks is generous as it is).

"Summer is wide open, spontaneous, playful.  It's jumping in with your clothes on and being brave and silly.  Summer has within her a buoyancy, a warmth, a wild and whimsical heart........

I found that, there was within her, an invincible summer...... for no matter how hard the world pushes against her, within her, there's something stronger-something better, pushing right back.

Here's to something stronger within each of us, to bravery and beauty and play.  Here's to an invincible Summer."

With love to my invincible Summer Sophia.

My daughter started a blog, so there's that

It is so very strange, parenting, life-navigating it all.  London, my eldest, at the wise old age of ten, took it upon herself to start pursuing her dreams and started her very own blog this weekend.  She has a writing schedule,  a journal chalked FULL of ideas and so much enthusiasm.  It's wonderful and odd.  This parenting four children thing has kind of blown me into a whirlpool that I have not yet emerged from, although I can see the sky, maybe wisps of clouds above the crests at times. I started my own blog once, two in fact.  This one in hopes of recording my children's and family's lives. the good, the bad, the memorable and the mundane.  The second one was to be more of a side gig to play with and maybe make some money from, eventually. That one, amid being a mom and wife and homemaker, and probably too much time on social media, didn't last long.  This one hasn't been posted on in almost a year. Maybe when the kids are all in school, I keep thinking.  But here I am, helping my baby navigate the internets, still unable to find that loop of time.  That elusive time when I'm going to pursue things for 'me', remember 'me', success, fulfillment.  All those words that run through my head on dark and sunny days.  But maybe that is how it's supposed to be.  Maybe I am finding me in them.  Maybe helping them explore their interests,  discovering with them, spurring them, between making them food and folding their laundry, that is me. Right now me.  My little girl won't ask me to type for her forever.  Heck, she didn't want me to eat in the lunch room past the second week of first grade. Technology isn't my thing and we spent way too long trying to figure out how to enable comments this morning.  Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing, where does my time go?  But it is going to her, her brothers, her sister, my husband, my family, which we are now so fortunate to live close to. Maybe in my search for 'time', 'success', 'pursuits' outside of the home, I'm missing that they are right here.  In front of me.  And I haven't missed anything.  I am, in fact finding everything.  God is using me.  He is using them. I am better and worse for it.  And I wrote today.  and helped my baby write. And everyone is fed. So there's that.

Preschool Homeschool

This could not be any more fun. Exploring, creating, baking, and playing.  I'm living the sweet life with these three FOR. SURE.

London's 10th

School Days

 Fourth, First, and Sonshine School-Here we come!

Dear Bindi,

It's been almost two months since we welcomed you into our family, and I have to say, it's not at all what I had expected.
You see, when I finally conceded to letting your favorite person have you, I was fraught with stress and panic and an overwhelming feeling of "what have I done?"  I already had an overflowing plate, with VERY BUSY twin toddlers, a nine year old, a six year old (with their own schedules and needs), a (much too) hard-working husband, a home to care for, friends and family I didn't see enough of; you get the picture-a very FULL life.  How could I have committed to taking on more?  How could I possibly manage caring for one more thing when I already felt I was on the brink of sanity most days?  My house is never completely clean, I always have laundry to catch up on, and for goodness sake, I don't even shower daily.  My list of reasons not to get you was extensive, to say the least.
  Shouldn't the twins be potty trained first?  Wouldn't it be a good idea to have lived in our home a full year and actually finish unpacking (not to mention all the painting and nesting that I wanted to tackle)?  What about our family vacations?  What would we do with you when we travel?  My carpet is so new and clean and fresh-is cleaning up puppy-potty really how I want to spend my 'free' time? See, lots of reasons (and those are only just a few).
But then we picked you up, on that terribly rainy, chilly day in October. And I melted.
We were instantly smitten with you.  You had that puppy charm, with those soft brown eyes and tiny little puppy paws.  And your smell- you had that irresistible puppy smell, and I swear we had never seen a cuter puppy.  I mean.
We brought you home beaming with excitement and I braced myself for the other shoe to drop.  For you to wake me up during the night, whine incessantly to be let out, let in, only to want to be let out again.  For my furniture to be chewed to pieces.  I was afraid the puppy-moon phase would be short and sweet and for reality to kick in and leave myself asking "Why in heaven's name did I do this to myself?"
And I kept waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
And during the waiting there was some middle of the night whining.  There were also messes to clean up (like the many times when the twins decide to help feed you and clean up your water bowl with hand towels). An occasional chewed up shoe and the inevitable (surprise!) accident around the house.

But there was so. much. more.
So much that I did not anticipate you would bring with you.  Like the evenings you spend curled up beside me (when you're not with your favorite person) in bed, soothing me with your fluffy softness that I can't get even get enough of (you are just SO FLUFFY I WANT TO DIE).  Or how you wake me up with those sweet puppy kisses. And how your entire body wags when you see us and you run up and jump into my arms.  The dedication and loyalty you already possess as you cry when your favorite person leaves for school, or how you run and play with joy and reckless abandon with your kids in the backyard.  I didn't anticipate how much our littles would love you and be so gentle as they pet you and offer you their food and care for you in their tender toddler ways.
I didn't anticipate all the joy.
Yes, I suppose there are more messes and work, but the value you've added to our family in the deeper, unseen ways could never be overshadowed by those small insignificant things (that come in the form of puddles on the floor).
So, thank you sweet Bindi. Thank you for helping me realize, in your own little way, the sweet, truly meaningful things in life.  I am so thankful for you and the 'yes' that brought you to us.  God really does use the small, seemingly insignificant things of this world to show His love, mercy and joy. You have brought fun and laughter to our home that I didn't even know was missing. You have brought joy and love and compassion to our family, and gave unexpected balance and peace to my life, in your little, unassuming, furry form; and for that, I will always be grateful. Thank you Bindi, for being so much more than I was expecting.