around here

For as much as is going on around here these days, it is slow making it to this space.  Its been a full week.  To-Dos being done.  Making way for more To-Dos.  I am trying not to get ahead of myself.

Packing.  Not started.

Plans for our "in-between houses" time.  Not worrying.

Wrapping up one school year.  Day by day.

Planning for next school year.  Little by little.

Instead I've been leisurely enjoying soccer games, spending hours wrapping up PTA commitments, discovering Sherlock, thanks to Honey.

I haven't been trading my todays for my tomorrows.  I've been sinking into what is right before me.  Walks around the neighborhood, stopping to chat with neighbors (and help mow their lawn.)  Play dates at the playground.  Making cookies and baking bread.  Noticing Pal's confidence in every move he makes.

And of course more Bluthing.  In anticipation of May 26th.

My mantra is bird by bird.  From the incomparable and amazing Anne Lamott:
"Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report written on birds that he'd had three months to write, which was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books about birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him put his arm around my brother's shoulder, and said, "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.” (Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life)


Not that I'm denying the hard work ahead these next several weeks.  Followed by the loooong time of transition and the challenges and discomfort that will come alongside so much change.  Oh no, I know it is all on its way.  I'm simply setting it aside for now, keeping comfortable in my present known.  Happily around here.

lately

A larger than life version of Fruit Ninja.  Oh the wonders of the mall.  Not shown in the picture are the hordes of pre-teens hanging out.

Yes he is typing.  No, I can barely keep up with him.

Free Cone Day at Ben and Jerry's.  Those are balloons, not ice cream.  We ate the ice cream, waiting for the balloons.  It took me days to realize that Munchkin thought you only got the CONE on Free Cone Day.  He was quite concerned about what we would do for ice cream.

A peek of spring color, coming oh. so. slowly. to our world.

She makes friends wherever she goes.  Always.  Even with dolls at the kids furniture store.

Today I received a message from a dear friend reminding me "Don't leap in front of grace."

It is a quote from Sr. Helen Prejean.  Sr. Helen rocks.  My friend sent the quote in response to an update I had e-mailed about our house hunt.  As happens our journey in finding a house is like that experienced by many others.  A time of great anticipation and anxiety.  Hope and disappointment.  A roller coaster that is more nauseating than thrilling. 

Thursday evening we found out our offer on a house was bested by an offer from someone else.  Hours of disappointment followed the news.  Until the next morning when we entered a house that we really love.  So the waiting has begun again.

How perfectly timed was this quote from my friend.  And in my year of grace, no less.  So, best as I can I am living in the moment, and letting grace take her lovely time.

loving

Valentine's Day seems a very fitting day to enjoy and share some things that I am loving right now.

:: a colorful iPhone case (it only took me nine months to pick it out, it reminded me of daffodils when I bought it.  When I showed it to Honey, he thought of the Steelers.  Uggg.)

:: Lovey's stripey polka-dotey fashion

:: these kids (and the wild chaotic bliss they bring to my every moment)

:: the Daddy that the kids are piled upon

:: a little boy who is teaching himself to walk by holding the handle of the yarn basket and scooting it around

:: the colorful packaging of this Trader Joe's chocolate

:: empty laundry baskets as pet beds

:: feeding and seeing our own little flock every morning

:: new Moleskins (ah, daffodils again.  I must be wishing spring.)

:: sweetly wrapped, fresh-baked presents

:: braids

:: handmade Valentine fuzzy friends

:: a sparkly heart-shaped magic wand

Oh yes, loving it all.
What are you loving right now?

goodness

Our easing has allowed me to see the goodness happening around us.  Such goodness.

:: some January thaw that allowed shorts, shorts!, to be worn for a day
:: making snowmen -- of the chalkboard variety -- as we await more snow
:: allowing the kids to run in the rain, splashing in puddles, and enjoying that January thaw (that is until this Mama discovered all the squeals of joy were from dumping cones-full of puddle water over their heads...oh my!  Then the parenting wheels came off.  Not a stellar mothering moment.)
:: being a winner over at Soulemama!
:: kitchen experiments.  Where water, flour, and dried out play-doh is all that is needed.
:: receiving a meaningful mama merit badge from Amy
:: handmade pine cone bird-feeders
:: an organized basement
:: uncovering, in that basement clean-out, a sweet little rocking chair that Lovey and I picked up at the thrift store for a couple dollars some time ago.  It simply needed a good wipe-down.
:: deciding to mix my own non-toxic laundry detergent, inspired by watching this movie
:: a family portrait by Lovey.  It was immediately put into a frame and placed in a prominent spot.
:: the first issue of Kindred, a beautiful literary magazine created by Amanda
:: a boy discovering the magic of headphones and an iPod
:: opening the very last jar of our homemade grape jelly goodness.  Oh, we must make much, much more next fall.

What goodness do you see these days?

within

This was last night.

This.  This happened today.

Veteran's Day.  In the neighborhood.

Midweek.

 Last weekend. At gladsome.

Do you sense a theme here?  This is my fall.  My regular readers may have noticed that my seasonal pictures have been conspicuously few.  Few, that is, until now.

You see, I haven't posted my fall here because I have been deep within my fall.  Within the season that is outdoors, and within myself.

Early in October, this weekend to be exact, I had an aha moment that fundamentally shifted how I experienced this season.  I had checked out a local fall festival to see if we would want to go.  Cost was $6 per person.  They touted their huge leaf pile.

A huge leaf pile?

Aha.  At that moment I deeply recognized that there was much more to fall than buying an afternoon of jumping in someone else's leaf pile.  I decided that this fall we would live within it.  Every bit of it.  Chilly. Rainy. Sunny. Brilliant. Golden.  Sure we would still enjoy special traditions, some that even cost money.  But our fall wouldn't be limited to these special days.  Our fall would be felt everyday, whether we were wearing short sleeves and sunglasses (thankfully those days were many) or bundled up in hats and gloves playing at the park well into dusk or getting soaked while taking a walk in the rain.  We would be within all of it.

And the decision to be within has made all of the difference.  I have breathed deeply.  I have looked to the sky in its vast array of colors and clouds.  I have said yes to playing in the rain.  I have corralled the kids outside day after day after day.  I have corralled myself outside to at least feel the fall air on my face, look up to the sky, and appreciate the trees in their ever-changing display.  I have given up naps, chores, blogging, and so much more to simply be out of doors looking and smelling and touching and feeling.  Feeling so good.  I have truly been within fall.  And therefore within myself, changing in subtle substantive ways.

So my dozens of days, my hundreds of pictures, are here.  In this one post.  Because, my friends, you now understand I've been quite busy within.

Last Sunday. 

A rainy day.  There were few, save for Sandy.  It never fails that I wear these shoes when it rains.  It never fails that I forget that water leaks through the bottoms of them.

 Four weeks ago.  A glorious day, we simply had to forgo a nap attempt.

Almost Halloween.  Riding with the windows -- and my hair -- down.  Could anything feel so good?

The night we ate al fresco.  In our very own leaf pile.

During Hurricane Sandy.  Luckily little damage where we live, but days and days of rain.  So we simply called it a hurricane hike.

October 12th.  The day my aha took hold.

Early October.  Discovering how brilliant fall looks through magenta colored glasses. 

 October 16th.   A walk to school.  We were so very late.  It was so very worth it.

Three weeks ago.  The afternoon was terribly chilly and not a soul in sight, except the man blowing the leaves into piles.  It was magical in its quiet and we ventured into the woods a bit and were surrounded by gold.  What I would have missed if the cold had kept me inside.

A Friday night.  Munchkin was shivering so much he couldn't climb down.  It took much coaxing and catching to finally get him back on solid ground.

 Early November.  Digging in the sand.  In gloves.

 Tonight.  Sunset.