about pie and people

I baked this strawberry pie today.

The littlest of the kids helped pick the berries from our generous neighbor's garden.  The corn starch needed for the recipe was borrowed from the neighbor across the street.  Each of the kids helped bake it in some way -- cutting strawberries, making the crust, mixing the filling, whipping the cream.

We enjoyed it for snack tonight, piled high with that fresh whipped-up cream.  And I felt grateful for the many hands that contributed to its goodness.  Amazing even.

Yet I couldn't pick the berries, or make the pie, or even eat it without thinking about the last strawberry pie I made.

It was June 25, 2013.

The day had started with this...

Strawberry picking with all four kids.

By the time we were done picking and loaded back in the van, I was done.  With a capital D.O.N.E.  It was maybe 10:00 in the morning.  It wasn't what had happened at the strawberry farm, but everything surrounding it.  We were in the second week of being out of our old house, but not yet in our new one.  I had spent many days apart from my husband, solely responsible for the kids in an environment without any routine.  I was exhausted.  I was emotional.  I was anxious about getting to our new home. 

And all I wanted to do -- to feel some sense of normalcy -- was to pick strawberries and bake a pie.  (I had somewhat reluctantly come to terms with the fact that there was no way, no how, I was going to get to make any jam.)

But a pie.  I was determined for a pie.

I called my sister Michele from right there in the parking lot of the strawberry farm, and tried explaining all of this through my sobbing.

Her response: "Bring the kids here.  Drive here right now.  We will figure it out."

I came to find out later that she couldn't understand a word I was saying.  Yet she took on her blubbering sister, with my four over-tired, out-of-routine, no sense of home, been in the van for hours and hours children.

She amended her afternoon plans to include me.  She rallied her kids - my dear nieces and nephew - to be in charge of their cousins for the day.

I borrowed a sun dress and shoes, and off we went for several hours.  A lunch with our sister Danielle.  Followed by a behind the scenes tour of a nearby theater at which Danielle was performing.

We laughed.  I cried.  It was wonderful.

That night, I made a strawberry pie.  I used the berries my littles had picked that morning.  I borrowed a pan and all of the other ingredients from my sister.  She wrote down the recipe for me.  It baked in the oven of a house that other friends generously opened to us for several weeks as we were in between homes.

That pie I made on June 25 of last year, and we ate for breakfast on June 26, tasted amazing.

Amazing with generosity.  Amazing with gratitude.  Amazing with humility.

I thought of all of this as I ate today's pie.  The pie many hands contributed to on June 12, 2014.  And I cried.  Even a year later, I feel very deeply how hard that time had been.  And how important it was that people were there.  And still are, in so many ways.

I've tried to be like that - to be there - in this new house, in this new community.

Maybe that's what it's all about.  Being good to each other.  Not always understanding the words being blubbered, but knowing what is being said.  Inviting them over, without their having to ask.  Being very good, when it is most needed.

With extra whipped cream on top, thank you.

around here {or, my life with Pal}

It's true, I spend my days following Pal around.  Pal whom we call Squirmy because, well, he has a history.  If I've spent a few minutes doing something else, it inevitably is followed by a look around to discover which drawer, bin, or closet he has been tearing apart.  Seriously.  In the amount of time it has taken me to type these past few sentences he has pulled out the broom and dustpan, gotten a computer cord from the desk and ransacked the drawer of wooden spoons.  Add in a kitchen stool he has easily mastered and I am in heaps of trouble!

This morning after getting two kids onto two different buses at two different bus stops I stood in the front yard for a few minutes and breathed the lovely oxygen given to us by our trees.  Sound silly?  We had some lovely trees in our old neighborhood, but as I looked skyward I wondered if I could ever, will ever, tire of these majestic trees that surround our new house and new neighborhood.  Granted, we haven't gone through the fall leaf raking season yet...

I am lamenting a broken camera lens.  My beloved Nikon VR 18-200.  I am squarely blaming the lens on the mostly blurry, less than inspiring photos of late.  It has suffered a couple bumps on the ground.  Squirmy again.  I couldn't get to him fast enough when his grabby hands were in motion.  Silly me for not storing it in a locked safe on the roof. 

We've had some birthday celebrating around here.  It has been sweet and touching and incredible.  Family and dear friends have been filling this space to the brim with love.  There have been cakes and singing and some can't-beat-it-coolest-real-gumball-machine-presents.  Nevermind that I am finding chewed gum in interesting places.  This kid will remember growing up with a real gumball machine.  I enjoyed a night out with Honey.  A walk in town, sushi, an uninterrupted adult conversation. 

I have been thinking about parenting a bit.  Thinking in a struggling sort of way.  I realize that I need to repair some of the difficulty of the summer and allow compassion to rise again to the forefront of my relationships with my children.  Hard stuff to look at my friends.  But I am looking.  And buoyed by the beautiful artwork my sisters gave me for my birthday.   Glad to have read this post too.

Also in the coolest birthday present department, Honey bought me a Peace Pole for my birthday.  A Peace Pole!  It will arrive later this fall, and plans are underway for a peace gathering.  So it seems the birthday goodness will continue.  Munchkin in providing gumballs for all.

Speaking of goodness and plans and fall.  gladsome planning is well underway.  Oh the great things that are coming together for this year!  Some wonderful women are sharing their talents: Gina and Amy and Annie.  There is still time to register at the early-bird price!

Squirmy has just walked into the room carrying pliers and scissors.  True.

I've been enjoying Twitter.  I resisted it for a long time, but have come to quite enjoy it.  After all, the pace of things right now make it easier to read and write in 140 character increments.  If you want, you can follow me @bcomingclaudine.  It will be like hanging around in my head all day.  Wait, maybe you don't want to be there.  Anyway, I will welcome the company if you do.

Squirmy has just walked into the room carrying a different pair of scissors.  Really?

I've given myself permission to not feel settled on paint colors or decorating or where to hang pictures for the next 12 months.  Instead I've been flipping through the best library books:  Young House Love and Happy Home.  There, I feel better with the stacks of boxes that are in our future family room.

I hear Squirmy talking to Siri on my phone.  He contacts her a couple times a day.  She often responds.  I think they might be in a relationship.  The vacuum cleaner doesn't know.

So, as my oldest has taken to saying, I better Peace Out.

scenes from a babymoon

Well our babymoon has been spent with lots of hugs, kisses, snuggles, naps and more hugs and more kisses.  These pictures happen to be the ones where Pal's face was actually showing.  I have tons of photos where he can't even be seen because of the heads and bodies of his siblings hovering about him in an almost constant state of snuggling, or hugging, or kissing or holding.  All. The. Time.

I think Pal gets 100 hugs and 1,000 kisses a day.  Easily.

These past few weeks have also brought countless diapers.  Some well-slept nights and some not-so-well-slept nights.  Lots of breastmilk.  A wee bit of spit up.  And one very impressive poop incident.  (I am sparing you the picture that I texted to Daddy.  Trust me, it was impressive.)

I've re-learned the art of doing many a task while holding a baby.  And I've made myself abandon some tasks and simply sit down and enjoy gazing at my youngest.  My three older children being my everyday reminders that these days are fleeting.

We've fully enjoyed this time of soaking in the sweet warm smell of a newborn and the squeaky lovely sounds he makes. 

We've also been graced with home-made meals from family and friends and helping hands here to hold Pal, play with the littles, help with errands and take out the trash if needed.  Oh how blessed we feel.

I also received these sweet gifts in the mail from blogger friends.  Erin sent these darling fabric bags, perfect for carrying just a few diapers and wipes in my purse.  Somehow she knew it was the exact thing I needed!

Amy sent along a mama merit badge.  Oh I've been admiring these, and boy it sure feels like I earned this pregnancy badge this time around!

During this time I was so inspired by the poetic honesty of my guest bloggers.  Their stories -- each uniquely their own -- were gifts to me as I continue on my journey of motherhood.  I am so grateful these amazing women are in my life, whether in person or through our blogs.

I look forward to being back in this space with you my dear readers!

Saturday Evening Post

There can be magic as dusk settles on a summer day.

Kids -- and adults -- running and running and running to play capture the flag.

You run so hard you are out of breath and fall flat out onto the lawn, thick grass cushioning you.

The wide sky obscured only by the tree leaves high above.

Laughing with a joy so deep it can almost make you cry.

redecorating

We've gotten a new couch in the dining room.

Yes, I said dining room.

Though I should be a little bit more accurate here.  It is not quite a new couch.  Though the location in the dining room is very new.

It is a hand-me down couch.  Handed down over 14 years ago.

From my husband's grandmother, before he was my husband.  Before he was even my fiance, I got his grandmother's very comfortable couch.  Which just so happens to have peach-colored bird upholstery.  So the this hand-me down couch has been called The Perch in our family all of these years.

And I guess the name is fitting.  We've perched quite a bit on that couch.  It is really quite comfortable.  Even at its age.

However, three moves and three kiddos later, that bird upholstery is more duct tape patching than bird-song, so it is time for us to say good-bye.

So The Perch is waiting to be handed down again.  This time to my sister, who is planning on having it re-upholstered.  Which makes me so happy.  It will still be in the family.

But while it waits for a good moving day, we've moved it to the dining room.  I pulled out an old slipcover we used to use on it.  And I must say, it looks good.

Really good.

The kids are lobbying for it to stay there.

Forever.

They have grown quite accustomed to the luxury of simply adding some throw pillows from the living room couch, sliding the dining room table a bit to the side and eating dinner in style and comfort!

(Don't worry Sister, I keep telling them it is temporary.)

But in the meanwhile, we are enjoying the delightful surprise of a comfortable sunny spot by the window.  So I am happy that The Perch is getting a bit of a last hurrah send-off from us.  Because all of those years ago, when I said I would take that bird-covered couch, I did not, could not, have imagined where we would be in our lives when it came time for us to send it on its way.  So I guess I am grateful for the perspective that darn old couch has given me too.

I see

"I see the moon 
and the moon sees me.  
God bless the moon 
and God bless me."

I love this little saying.  I often recite it aloud to the children if one of them notices the moon.  I also hear it in my own mind when I am alone and I notice the moon.

That connection to the moon makes the world seem a bit smaller to me.  And the heavens a bit brighter and wider and, well, blessed.

Even during busy weeks (and this one is oh so busy) I try to recognize those quiet moon moments.  Even if only for a breath long.  For in that breath, I can be thankful.  Thankful for those blessings.

And the blessings are many! Here are a few I'm honoring right now:
* a warm home, when many are out in this cold cold winter
* snuggles and snuggles and snuggles with one, two, and sometimes three kids
* some unexpected generosity we've been gifted
* sunshine and blue skies, made even more brilliant with the snowy ground
* coffee my husband makes in the morning
* watching the kids make Valentine's cards

If the kids were to weigh in, I imagine topping their list would be discovering Wild Kratts on PBS.  (Though honestly don't you think it should be "discovering Wild Kratts on PBS, and having a super cool Mama that lets you watch Wild Kratts.  Every. Day.?")  

What blessings are you honoring right now?