A Place at the Table

Today, we made space at the table for John. Previously, he ate off the dishwasher. It was the perfect fit. While the others kiddos lined up on their stools, I'd set John at my feet, open the dishwasher, pour on the cheerios, and in fourth child fashion, he'd happily scoot right up. The sad part is that though we gave away our high chair after June outgrew it, I've had this little seat in the storage room all along.

Vacation, There and Back

We just made it to Mexico and back. Spring break. I have been absent from this blog for that reason (and others, like John), but not absent from creative happenings.

To be true to our days (but not so true to blogging), I am going to fill in spaces and backdate a few of our vacation creations. But first, a few thoughts:

Traveling with four young kids is not exactly a vacation. Still, there's a lot of joy in that high energy of say, cruising through security. The kids get a thrill from throwing off shoes, hefting up back packs, filing through the screen, grabbing stuff left and right. It feels not unlike the feeling of juggling.

The flights themselves (we had four legs in all) continued that juggling feeling, but were really quite smooth. With seats in two rows, we were throwing more backpacks around, books, markers, paper, food, drinks, movies, headphones. Only on the last flight did I feel like a seasick exhibitionist. Since we pre-board with our brood, I got to sit there for about 30 minutes, greeting boarding passengers with my shirt practically off trying to quiet my screaming baby, comfort my exhausted three year old whose blue pencil wouldn't work, compliment my other daughter's rainbow 100 times, wrestle with my oldest son across seats, and share a cup of coffee with my husband. The youngest two kids finally fell asleep literally on each other (picture to come) when we landed in Denver.

Anyway, that was just the travel part. Along with all the physical juggling, I juggled thoughts in my head as we transported from place to place. Our day began at 3:30 am (another story), and we arrive at our destination at around 5pm, and it's gorgeous. Too good to be true. But, all I can think is, "This is so beautiful, why can't I relax!?!?!?" Hmmmm.

Jeff made up a wonderful Knock Knock joke for the kids that is a huge hit. It goes like this:

Clara: Knock Knock

Will: Who's there?

Clara: Interrupting pig.

Will: Interrupting...

Clara (interrupting): Oink Oink

You can play the game forever, moving from animal to animal. Our first day in Mexico felt like the interrupting knock knock joke in my head:

Thought: Wow, this is heaven.

Interrupting Thought: I can't find ___.

Thought: Look at that view.

Interrupting Thought: I forgot to bring ___.

Thought: The kids look like a postcard swimming in an infinity pool.

Interrupting Thought: I wish John would let me put him down.

Thought: In our landlocked life, we dream about this ocean view.

Interrupting Thought: My eyes hurt. Why do I always run out of contacts before a trip?

Thought: How lucky are we that the kitchen is stocked!

Interrupting Thought: Why isn't there any Tequilla?

My head eventually eased and I relaxed and enjoyed the vacation. Tremendously. But then, I start the whole juggling process over again when I get back home. Our return travel day began at noon, and we arrived home at about 12:30am. "Ah. My children are safe in their beds. I get to climb into mine. Why can't I relax?" Hmmmm.

Thought: We made it. Everyone is safe.

Interrupting Thought: Is this really my home? Where I've lived for almost 10 years?

Thought: No more juggling markers or babies on a crowded plane.

Interrupting Thought: How do I live in this mess?

Thought: It's spring! I can't wait to garden!

Interrupting Thought: Did I really dig up half the yard before we left? Do we really have a huge hole in the middle of it all???? (See previous blog, the WRCL)

Thought: It's so nice to get back into our routine, our rhythm.

Interrupting Thought: What is our rhythm again? Do we have one?

I've now made it through a day back home, which included a late arrival to school, a trip to two grocery stores, and two rounds of various lessons. I'm settling back in. I do remember this place. And I do love it, too. Even if it's (we're) frayed at the edges, to say in the least.

Sea Glass

Will made a collection of sea glass from the beach. (Clara and June were collectors, too, but more in the form of imitation.) Will prefers sea glass to shells. In a previous trip to Mexico, he spent hours looking for it every day, scouring the beach in his enchanted five year old way. He ended up with a huge beautiful bag full that he left in a taxi the night before going home. I was so crushed I cried. He was so crushed that he showed no emotion whatsoever.

This year, our collection made it home.

Hard to believe those are his long, beautiful seven-year-old fingers!

Toenails

I just found these pictures so they are not present day, but too sweet to overlook. Before our trip to Mexico, and in anticipation of sandal weather, we made beautiful toenails. (Though I admit, we sometimes wear sandals in the snow. Whatever gets you out the door.)

Of course, the idea was a little rosier than the reality. John cried on the floor the whole time, and June peed in her pants and locked herself in the bathroom. I was just glad to make it out of there, miraculously with colorful feet. The next day, Clara went to the doctor for an infection on her foot... That's another matter. But already, the chaos is a blur and the memory is a happy one.

Rock-a-bye Baby

John and I made some great napping memories. I had to honor his sleep, but didn't want to be holed up in the house. We made do in a beautiful hammock, with John and a book in my lap.

Secret Paths

I love the way kids can always find secret paths. Shortly after we arrived in Mexico, Will & Clara & June made up an enchanted forest that encircled the house. Each day, Clara would shout to June, "Wanna go on the path?" They'd scamper out of sight for a little while and reappear from the jungle. It reminded me of a little path with a canopy of bushes on the side of my grandparents' yard where my sister and I loved explore.

A Line in the Sand

We made a line in the sand, and then ran sprints to the volleyball net. It was a good 50 yards. We ran it over and over and over. Will was especially determined to win. There is a lot at stake:

If (when) Will beats Dad: Jeff will take Will to dinner to his restaurant of choice.

If Will beats Clara: He'll take her to Pearl Street Mall for the day.

If June beats Clara: She'll take her to the Little Park to play.

The race continued up the steep hill to our house, leading the cart.

Lizards & Iguanas & Turtles

We made lizards and turtles in the sand. At high tide, Will gallantly threw his body into waves to protect them. June cried. "They're going to die!" We actually saw lots of iguanas, on houses, in the grass, and clinging to trees.

Books and Songs

We made lots of progress in our books, and sang lots of songs, too.

What are we reading?

Will cruised through the last Harry Potter. I finished Broken, by Lisa Jones. Clara is wrapped up in On the Banks of Plum Creek. June still loves poetry books, and we brought A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson. Mary Lou was reading Eat Pray Love. And Jeff read New Yorkers.

What are we singing?

Windy Nights, over and over again at night. Clara and Will are singing songs from her school performance: Big Rock Candy Mountain, Mary had the Blues, Tenga-le-o. June just sings her own tune - whatever comes to mind.

Echo

Our house in Mexico was all marble and stone, perfect for girly echoes. Each time they ascended the stairs, Clara and June shouted, "Hello0000. I love youuuuu. Goodbyyyyyyye!"

As an antecdote on the echo, I lost some of my hearing one night, getting the kids ready for bed, with June and John's desperate cries ringing off the bathroom walls.

The WRCL

On a beautiful Friday afternoon, after lingering at the school playground for two hours, Will spearheaded a serious project in the front yard called "W.R.C.L" - Will's Re-Created Labyrinth. He plans to line his hole in the front yard with wooden walls and to fill it with multiple rooms. He sized it up with his sisters. They stood in the hole together to ensure that three people could comfortably glide down the chute at the same time.

John decided to forego such serious matters and enjoy the fresh air.

Teacher's Appreciation Day

Today, we made a spread for our teachers - contributing soup, muffins, chocolate, flowers, linens and a bunch of hearts cutouts left over from our Valentines Day confetti.

A Dash

Today, Clara and June had a wonderful moment as they dashed home down the street. They often ask to get out of the car at the top of the street and then run down the sidewalk home. I figure it gets some energy out - and it's pretty cute. However, sweet as these pictures appear, Clara had a huge meltdown moments later. In fact, to be fair, I should include a picture of the claw marks all over my arm!

A Pillow for Beary

Today, June embroidered a pillow, using her favorite pink hoop, for her favorite little bear.

Sundays

On Sunday, we also made some Sundays. Do the kids look excited, or what?

Baby's Breath

This weekend, I had a beautiful Sunday morning. With sunny skies, gloves and a coat, I biked to a new yoga place - new for me that is - and enjoyed some hot yoga for the first time. I followed it up with some tea and writing, and then came home so very calm to my so very not calm household. Thanks to yoga, I remained so very calm.

The yoga brought me back to mindfulness of my breathing, but I continue to be caught up in little John's breathing. (I recognize, this is an issue - who's breath consumes me most anyway? I'm not really sure.) But John's breath is a yoga lesson in itself. Here is what I notice:

• Especially when he was really little, he always takes in a really big breath right before he sinks into sleep. That's my cue to sneak away.
• Just before the cry comes, he does a bunch of quick shallow breaths. Another cue...
• When we nestle into the rocking chair, just as he starts to nurse, he takes a big relief breath, "Ah, finally."
• Sometimes he just doesn't breathe - when he's watching his siblings in deep concentration, or as he's getting his sleep rhythm going.
• Especially when he was a tiny baby, his breath was really irregular, asleep and awake. The sleeping part always made me feel nervous, but so in tune with the basics of life.
• I still love the way his breath feels right in my ear - so warm and sweet. I still love it with all my children, though Will is on the verge of big, stinky boy. I promise to love that, too.

As my Sunday moved on, the yoga effect remained, but with concentration:

• BREATHE IN sunshine, coming of spring, the big beautiful family that I've always dreamed of;
• BREATHE OUT June's temper tantrum over a boo boo that is remarkably invisible;
• BREATHE IN my husband's Sunday stubble and his yearning for soccer at the park (For the kids. Really.);
• BREATHE OUT anxiety of the kids getting older, my getting older, everyone getting older. Ok Time. Why does it have to pass?;
• BREATHE IN the natural beauty and blessedness of time and getting older;
• BREATHE OUT worry over our polluted earth;
• BREATHE IN hope for the future;
• BREATHE OUT the anxiety of making mistakes with my family, with my life, of missed opportunities;
• BREATHE IN confidence, faith, love.

There it is in a nutshell. Now back to my baby's breath.

Picnics

With spring in the air, today we made picnics - one real and many imagined.

Sales

Today, Clara made some silver leaf prints and then quietly took them out front to make some sales - 7 in all!

June had other matters on her mind. After taking an emergency bath, she asked me why frogs were green. Then, after some thought she said, "I think they should be pink."