more weekending

When I posted Sunday morning the several ways we were considering spending our day, how could I  have known that our indecision on what to do would allow us to spend our time in even better ways?

:: building a fort on the play set, constructing a working pulley system and blanket walls

:: a walk in our woods becoming an impromptu project of neatening up the trail

:: piling together on the couch for a bit of classic Mr. Bean, Rowan Atkinson is in a belly laugh class all his own

:: laying on a blanket under the truly majestic oak tree in our front yard

:: another impromptu project of pulling out some pachysandra, and moving in some stepping stones to create space to reach a large sit-able rock under that tree

:: kids in the sprinkler in play clothes

:: a burger picnic out on that blanket in soaking wet play clothes

At one point when the family - all six of us - were exploring in the woods Honey and I yet again (for the hundredth time!) looked at each other and verbalized how our move here is transformative for our children.  For us.

As the day unfolded I recognized what it meant for us to be here, home.  We weren't going, or doing, or being.  We just were.

saving the day

 

I grumped about all morning.  The house was hot.  I felt restless.  The kids were bored.  I said a hundred times that we needed to get outside.  The house was hot, unbearably so.  Did I mention that?

Staying inside felt like we were squandering something away.  We simply needed to go.  Somewhere.  Outside.

So late in the afternoon we packed up the bikes and helmets, piled in the car, and made our way to a perfectly beautiful hiking trail.

Outside was hot too.  But hot in a good way.  The sweat you feel on the back of your neck and behind your knees seems productive.  The air was still and quiet, save for the swooshing sound of the bike wheels and the noises of unseen insects.

We walked a good distance.  Then stopped and climbed and explored.  We talked.  We breathed.

Back in the car I combed my fingers through my hair, needing to retie my ponytail from wearing my hat.  At that moment I realized that after months of waiting my hair just might be long enough now.  I quickly twisted a couple imperfect braids.

And felt like myself again. 

red white blue

Ours was the happiest of Independence Days.

Begun with a snack of watermelon and then filled with play, BBQ, s'mores, sparklers, more play and oh such heat.

We watched fireworks well past bedtime and were amazed at the almost constant lightning that enhanced the actual fireworks display.

Another snack of watermelon before bed.  And prayers of gratitude for the freedoms we enjoy.

summertime

There is nothing quite like live music outdoors in the summer.

Especially when it includes lots of space for kids to run, and hula hoop, and throw frisbees and have an impromptu game of freeze tag with new-found friends.

A blanket picnic with extra homemade chocolate chip cookies.

A little girl so eager to dance she can barely eat.

A setting sun casting long, long shadows making little ones look oh so tall.

Fresh air, and trees, and simply slowing down.  Oh so needed.

The fireflies just beginning to come out as we head back home.

Nothing quite like it indeed.

whole hog

Within the first few hours of summer vacation I took the kids -- all four of them -- strawberry picking.

I've admitted here before that I've been a bit nervous about summer.  Actually I've been a bit nervous about summer since last fall when I realized that this summer will be the first one for me to be home full time, and with four kids to boot.

So, to start summer off, I slathered them in sunscreen and loaded them into the van and took them strawberry picking.  I went whole hog I tell you.  I figured if I could do that with four kids in tow, then I can do just about anything with four kids in tow.

As it turns out, I could do it.  And that brilliantly sunny day in the rows of strawberries my calm and confidence as a mother grew.  A bit, but bit enough to be felt, as it does every time I feel I have gotten mothering right.

Over 7 pounds of strawberries were picked, mostly by the kids.  We ate our fill for lunch, shared some with friends and our letter carrier, and had fresh strawberry pie with homemade whipped cream for dessert that night.  Some delicious whole hog I tell you.


I look forward to sharing a new project with you tomorrow -- something you will be able to join in!