these kids

These kids.

THESE KIDS!

Hubby and I often look at them and wonder how in the world we ended up here.

Yet.

And yet.

The way they live their lives constantly reminds me of how I want to live mine.

Joyfully.

Smart.

Exhuberantly.

Wearing polka dots and plaid and tie dye all together.

And a cape for good measure.

These kids.

They make me crazy.  But watching them, and really seeing, is what best brings me back to sane.

These kids.

Their rites of passage - like a lost tooth - remind me of how I must honor this time in their lives.

That tooth.  That specific one lost.  I'm missing it.  I loved it, and how my son looked with it.  So his loosing it also reminds me of this never-slowing passage of time.

These kids.

When left to their own devices find fun in running up and down and up and down and up and down the sidewalk.  They feed ants with potato chips.  They make messes (and mountains of dirty laundry.)

They play outside in their pajamas.

And bare feet.

With chipped pink toe-nail polish.

These kids.

They remind me to be more spontaneous.  More creative.  More silly.  More spunky.

These kids.

I've had experiences that when looking at them, I get an actual glimpse of them as their older selves.  It is always jarring to catch that moment and recognize that it is rushing towards me.

These kids reveal to me the very worst in myself.  And the very best I work to become.

Their faces melt my heart.  Humble me.  Disarm me.  Remind me that it is I who must be their worthiest role model, their most ardent advocate, their unconditionally compassionate parent.

Recognizing the sacred in their faces reminds me of this divine work of motherhood I've gotten into.

Loud, messy, and difficult.  But full of happiness, laughter, and life.

Plaid skirt, stripey tights, flowered boots are a bonus.

these {my summer} moments

I've attempted a couple times to write posts about our summer.  There are such exciting stories to tell and pictures to share.  I've thought about lengthy posts with nitty gritty details of our move to a new home, our week at the beach, Lovey's wedding.  I've considered a quick "postcards" version sharing the highlights of our time in between houses when we stayed with family, or of the first days and weeks trying to establish ourselves in our new community.  I've written sentences and deleted them, I've browsed the thousand plus pictures of this summer.

But a post never quite came together.

Then I realized how hard it is to write about a season of life that has been so difficult.  So very difficult.  Despite all of the goodness, all of the excitement, all of the blessings of our summer -- it has been overwhelmingly hard.

How could I write about summer when in many ways it hasn't seemed like summer at all, certainly not any summer I have known.  Instead it has been a season all its own, delight and surprise, coupled with fatigue and unknown.  As I explained in a comment to Lady Cordelia "I say goodbye to summer, without ever really having said hello."  

And so it is that this past week has been spent saying goodbye to this not-quite-a-summer, and saying hello to new.  New season, new routines, new schools, new friends, new teachers, new bus stops, new places to keep the keys and lunchboxes, new kitchen with new cabinets, new sounds, new smells, new yard and new trees, new playground and new pool, new, new, new.

Yet.

Yet, even in my tipping toward fall, I don't want what has been experienced and learned this summer to be lost.

So I share these {my summer} moments.  Some you will surely recognize for what they are, others may only mean something to me, as it should be.  There are many photos.  Many, many.  The photographic quality of some aren't great, but I don't care, they deserve a place here.  This is my summer, my meaningful moments.  And it is in my sharing that I can embrace this season for what it has been, and say goodbye to summer with much more pleasure and gratitude.

Joining Soulemama, and many others, in this moment.