Growing Up Salty

My kids are being raised salty; summer is spent at the water's edge. They dig holes for splashing in and sleeping in. They catch and release black tip sharks caught in the surf. They ride their boogie boards as far as the waves will take them. All is as it should be. Surf, splashing, laughter, and perfect exhaustion.

I've always wanted to be an artist, but the truth is, I don't know how to create anything except for maybe a moment. And maybe that's enough.

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Enjoying Each Little Minute

It's summer time, time for sunshine, salty air, and sandy cookies. I'm watching as my littlest man gets zebra striped from fat roll tan lines. I'm watching my big kids ride waves and dig holes half way to China. I look at  little faces and feet and seriously can't believe they are mine. Tempers and big hearts, wackiness and bossiness, these little are mine.

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Father's Day Tribute Part 1- A Lost Post

My dad played with us: kick-the-can, the lump game, the blob. He taught me about division years before any teacher, and about Romeo and Juliet years before I would see the beauty in tragedy. He taught me about Jesus, Townes Van Zandt, and Richard Brautigan, and he rubbed my back every night. When he left me at college, the college he found for me, he left a note: "No sex, no drugs, rock-n-roll's okay. Love, Dad."
He cast me as the star in community theater plays, and he said it was okay to cuss sometimes, as long as it was funny, and it had better be funny. My dad laughs more than he smiles. He is consistent and dependable, and he is equal parts stoic and sentimental.
I'm so grateful for my dad. He showed me what a good man is, how an honorable man behaves, and so without words, I always knew that's what I would need one day in my own husband, in the father of my own children.

Happy Father's Day Dad.

Thanks for being a great dad and an awesome poppy.

*I scheduled this to post a few weeks ago and just discovered it never happened. 

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Father's Day Tribute Part 2

Dear Tom, thank you for being an awesome dad to our kids, for watching Adventure Time with them, for teaching them to ride bikes, for taking them to the movies when I desperately need a break. Thank you for loving our kids and for making it so clear to them. Thank you for changing diapers and telling them the most unbearably boring science stuff that they mysteriously don't find boring. Thank you for reading to them and for racing them, play fighting with them and teasing them. Thank you for showing them a great example and for making them the amazing little people that they are. I love you. Happy Father's Day.

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This Weekend We- Alumni Style

This weekend we went back to our alma mater for alumni weekend, a weekend that bears some resemblance to summer camp with beer. We swam in the river, in the rain and in the sunshine. We kayaked and picnicked and spent the night in a dingy dorm room. We saw old friends, and the kids made new ones. We revealed in the beauty of our old campus and in the comfort of so many old friends, and it always seems appropriate to make some comment about how we're reliving the glory days. But as I watched my beautiful children play with my friend's beautiful children, as I watched them come to love a place I love so dearly, I was struck by the fact that I am not reliving the glory days; I live the glory days day in and day out. 

I am so lucky to have gone to St. Mary's; I learned there, I grew there, I met my best friends there, I found Tom there. College was great, and St. Mary's is wonderful, but now is great too, this moment is wonderful. And those moments on the docks, watching the sunset, my kids laughing in the distance, eating St. James pizza, that was super wonderful.

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The Prayer of a Rusher

I've been a rusher my whole life. I always wanted to do the next thing, be older, get to the next step. I wanted to drive, to get a job,  to go to college, to travel, and I wanted to do it RIGHT NOW.
I never understood kids who loved childhood, the kids, like my sister Molly, who said they never wanted to grow up. Wouldn't it be better to be a teenager? Wouldn't it be better to be 21?
I did most things early.  I was so excited about what came next.
But now I'm a mama. I became a mama early, just like most things.
And now that I'm a mama, I want to learn to be still, to rest, to appreciate because today Sena is 3012 days old, Gus is 2298 days old, and Arlo is 178 days old, and that is only true for today.Tomorrow they will be one day older. They will be a little taller, a little wiser, a little less little tomorrow.
I can't wish and want so much that I rush their sweet childhood away.
Today I spent some time in prayer, asking for patience and peace and the ability to enjoy each moment without thinking about the next one.

These are the days of brother's sleeping together in their mama's bed, the days of sandcastles and little boys who want pictures of them. These are the days of babies scooting after big sisters. I don't know what the next day holds, so I'll just keep holding on to these people of mine instead. 

Please excuse not so good iPhone pictures. Sometimes these little moments are best captured that way. 

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This Weekend We Didn't

This weekend we didn't close on the house as planned, and we didn't move into our new home.
But we did go over to visit the new house and rake leaves and pull weeds and prune bushes.
And we did get to see my best friend in this whole wide world who came down from Brooklyn. We showed her the new place and walked to our new beach. We waded into the water that never gets deep, and she showed a New Englander how to suck the nectar from a honey suckle.
And we did go back to my parent's house to grill steaks and drink gin and enjoy a magical late afternoon with friends.

And then Tom and I drove our New York visitors to their bus stop, and I was sad my best friend lives far away, and I was sad we didn't get into our new house, and I was tired and sore from yard work. That's the problem with magical afternoons; magic can't be reality. But it sure is nice while it lasts. 

Thanks Joanna for the picture of my little shark. 

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