Valentine Dates

A week late, our family indulged in Valentine dates.  Jeff took the girls out; I dined with the boys.  It was an evening of misplaced elegance, with sparkling glasses, candles, fine linens, and collared shirts.  

Sometimes, I worry we won't have much to say.  Or I worry there will be some silly drama that keeps us from being present.  But, the weather framed our artful night.  Previously (as in here and here), whimsey manifested itself on menus or paper tablecloths, but a fogged up window was the canvas this year.  The snow, slippery roads, freezing temperature, and absence of life outside all created a time-out-of-time.  Like a certain kind of being in love.

Ritual: The Family Selfie

We have a family ritual on my birthday of going to a restaurant that has a wall of mirror windows nearby.  Because it is my birthday, my family indulges me a 5-minute photo shoot.

Up above is our first family "selfie" in that window, before the selfie trend was born.  It must be from 2010.  Since then we've taken quite a few more, to varying degrees of success.  In the process, I realize that family selfies can hold life lessons.  Here are a few:

• try to catch the best light;
• be careful what you focus on, not the car in the background, the person walking, or the back of someone's head;
• keep it centered;
• keep the camera subtle;
• stay close to each other, but not so close that personalities get stifled;
• a little blur is not such a bad thing;
• black and white can be nice and simple;
• shut the van door;
• get up close, but not too close;
• point straight ahead;
• look straight ahead;
• try to keep the family front and center;
• let John be;
• be mindful of June's legs;
• don't let Clara hide;
• enjoy Will's expressions, subtle as they may be;
• don't cover up Jeff;
• catch the moment quickly - it's fleeting;
• hope for the best!

PS - These are more pictures than you care to see.  Only in two did we half-way get it right.  The others drive home the points above, in photos as in life.

Ritual: Pizza

We are regulars at a local pizza place called Proto's.  Our visits there have earned "ritual" status because:

• We always go there on the weekend, after a North Boulder hike.
• We arrive around 3:00 and have the place to ourselves.
• The kids get to watch the pizza makers through a glass window.
• The pizza makers most always throw dough at the window.
• We always then go for dessert brownies across the street.

So many indulgences.  We count our blessings.  But, the greatest attraction is the pizza makers.  The chefs rival fire throwers, with their drama and their agility.  Only it's pizza. And you can throw it into windows, right at the gawkers' faces.  This and good pizza keep us coming back.

Ritual: Valentine Dates

We have a family Valentine ritual.  The girls go to dinner and a dance with their Dad.  I take the boys to dinner.  The dance reviews were good this year.  (In years past, it tended to overwhelm.)  And the boy dinner did not disappoint.  Honestly, the dreaminess of the night was almost formulaic:

1.   Throw quasi-fancy clothes on everyone.  Maybe even a clip tie on a toddler.

2.   Go to dinner so early that you are the only ones there.

3.   Go somewhere that has (paper) white table cloths.
4.   Add crayons for color.

5.   Sit by a window that features the cold, busy city lights outside.
6.   Drink a glass of wine.

7.   Stare into rows of shimmering water glasses.

8.   Eat delicious crepes with lots of gruyere cheese.

9.   Share a first sip of coffee with the 10-year-old.
10. Eat more crepes, this time with chocolate.

Granted, this formula is often mired in whining or tantrums or clothes discomfort or some sort of desperation, so sometimes that shining water glass is just off the radar screen.  But, on this night, I got lucky with my charming Valentines.

This is a napkin heart.

Ritual: The Mail Run

In our old house, our mailbox hung right next to the front door.  With our move last summer, we gained the ritual of strolling down a driveway to retrieve our mail.  Short as the walk is, it has become an event.  We walk.  We stroll.  We scooter.  We bike.  Sometimes it's a chore.  Sometimes more.  But, I welcome adding this to our list of rituals.

As I consider our many rituals, I must acknowledge that they are superimposed on a what could easily be considered quite a chaotic foundation.  We are always working towards a state of order and accomplishment, but we certainly never get there.  Does anyone really?  But, in large part, that is why I reach for these rituals, pick them up out of obscurity.  Their light makes sense of the chaos and keeps us, or certainly me, afloat.

New Routine: School to Home

These days, I pick up my oldest three kids from school on my bike, with little John in tow.  It is a dynamic moment, for everyone, the exit from school and transition to home.  Our sequence is as follows:

• burst out the school doors, 
• eyes search for family members, 
• run together to the bike rack, 
• hop quickly on bikes, 
• ride freely - wind blowing through hair, feet pedaling fast, 
• conquer the bridge, on or off the bike,
• wind through streets,
• arrive at the Big Green Ash Tree
• drop bikes, 
• breathe deeply.

As the kids gain distance from school, and zero in on home, the park gives us refuge and space to transition.  There are school stories, spastic flips on bars, flinging bodies on swings, snacks, trips to the proverbial bathrooms, pick-up soccer games, and escapes into the trees.  Overall, it is a safe place to shed stress, reunite, get space if you need it, or come together if you need that instead.  

When the older ones are nourished and ready for what's next, they hop back on their bikes and cruise home through wide fields and big trees.  I follow with the little ones.  I like to think that path gives them vision.  It's just a matter of looking up from their fast-moving feet.  But, the vision may be all mine, watching them all fly home.

 

Old Routine: The Library

I always feel like a good parent when I go to the library.  Even if I chat excessively with other mothers, get overly absorbed in my own book, or check messages on my phone, there we are.  Surrounded by books.  Listening to Melody, who has read to my kids for 10 years!  Ten years!

Melody is a local celebrity among Boulder moms.  She can make any book intriguing.  Every Monday morning, she sings, stomps, laughs, cries, gurgles, shakes, jumps and humbles us all.

She introduced a book to Will that changed his life, at 4.  After reading "Saint George and the Dragon," he became a "noble knight" for an eternity.  It was his cover.  To this day, he dabbles with covers (don't we all?), but noble knight may forever be my favorite.

Our latest family trends at the library go like this:

• June brings home fairy books.  Anything with a sparkly, enchanted looking nymph on the cover captures her completely.
• Similarly, John brings home train books.  His magnet takes the form of shiny blue engines.
• Clara likes comics, preferably Peanuts, but also Calvin and Hobbs.
• Will gets books-on-tape.  He has plenty of books at home, but to him, the library means vocal companionship.  He has always been a book-on-tape guy.  This summer, he clocked hours, listening and sketching.  It could be his current cover.  It certainly is a passion, and you can't deny that.

I am thankful for libraries, for Melody, and for giving me that time to feel simply like a good parent.

New Routine: Biking to School

School has begun, and we have a new routine.  Each morning, after checking for shoes on feet and food in backpacks, everyone hops on a bike.

We leave at least 30 minutes before school begins for the 2-mile ride.  It is the most feel-good way to get to school, yet not without challenges.  Among four kids, we have four paces.  For the most part, we've narrowed that down to two groupings:  the older two ride ahead, while I ride with (or pull) the younger two.  We meet at a park, then finish roughly together.

Our greatest stress so far is the fact that one rider has trouble carrying a backpack, which means  waiting for me at school.  Her partner, however, does not wait before heading to class.  Even with a beautiful bike ride, this equals uber-stress!

Such is life.  What a challenge it is to feel right in the flow - not behind, not ahead, but content with the beauty of the ride at your own speed.  I think that if all my kids can bike with such contentment by the end of the year, it will be a victory.  A feeling to seek their whole lives long.

An Old Ritual: Running Home

Driving home to our old house, when was beautiful out, or when we'd spent too much time in the car, or when everyone was punchy and hadn't had enough exercise... the kids used to hop out of the car on one end of the street and run the down the hill the rest of the way home.

My pictures from the car are blurry, but the blur actually captures that fresh air, fast energy bliss.  Sometimes, it was a kick out of the car in an effort to shake a bad mood.  Sometimes a bad mood followed when a little one wasn't big enough, or a certain big one was just too fast.  But, it was always exhillerating and freeing, even just to watch.  And it did tend to be joyful.

I love the way those sprints always knocked the kids into the present moment - racing the car, or racing each other, or just racing themselves, to earn a peaceful moment at home before the getting-home rituals began.