Home

When summer began, I was composing blogs in my head about family rituals and routines.  Then, my family up and moved.  In large part, this explains my 2-month blog silence.

It was a fairly sudden change.  Inspired, but sudden.  I alternate between thinking us brave and foolish.

I was connected to our old home.  Its walls breathed the energy of all that happened within them for 10 years.   The vision I had when we committed to a new place was full of optimism, but a little blind to what we'd be leaving behind.  Like the sweet hill we walked, biked, scootered, wiggle-raced so many million times.  Or the neighbors who have watched, and cared for, and known my kids like no new neighbors ever will.  Or my view from the kitchen of June and John dancing in the living room, Clara racing from the front door to the backyard trapeeze in one big leap, and Will battling some mirage from his post on the roof.

I could stand in the middle of that house and see out a North, South, East and West window, all from one spot.  In fact, this will be my memory of that home.  The vision in every direction.  I could see my children wherever they may be.  Not necessarily a teenager's dream, which is one reason we left.  But as the mother of four still mother-centered children, being in the center of that 360 degree view was exactly where I wanted to be.  Letting go of that position is not easy.  

Mind you, we are not moving into a suburbian McMansion, nor are we headed to gas-guzzling away from the city center.  Instead, school is now a bike ride away and Jeff's trip to the bus station is close.  We do have more land, and chickens are in sight.  And there are more spaces for preteens - and their mothers - to find a little personal space.  

But we left a place I loved.  In our 10 years there, we dreamed up our kids, and dreamed each day with them in that space.  Yet we willed the change by a dream, too.  We will come to love our new home.  And that may be the thing I've learned:  While changing our dreams and rituals and routines can be hard, the important thing is that they continue.

So, I aim to end the summer where I intended to begin, reflecting on rituals and routines.  We are continuing many, spinning some that are new, and letting go of those that no longer have a place.  For that is where we are living, and maybe that balance sits a little closer to the truth.

Bears, BIRDS, Butterflies and Frogs

I hold my breath each spring, hoping that a robin will make a family above our back door.  In fact, I hold my breath to make up for the lack of breath-holding around here: it's so loud, I cannot imagine that we won't scare the robins away.  And she nests right beside the trampoline, one of the loudest spots.  But, each year, she returns.  So far we have two nests, and at least one nesting mother.

She sits and sits, even as kids view the eclipse.  They look a little like birds here themselves.

Bears, Birds, Butterflies and FROGS

I just couldn't say no to the frogs.  Clara's class frogs.  Clara volunteered our house before I even knew that they were due a summer vacation.  But, they're really pretty sweet pets.  And I never imagined that they would receive such affection.  The affection does, however, seem to correlate with the cleanliness of their tank, and it gets dirty pretty fast.

The transfer from school to home was thrilling.  I marvel that they survived such handling.  Their little hearts must still be recovering.  There were so many near mishaps - frogs leaping out of buckets, people leaping into tanks, frogs lost between bookshelves, people lost between frogs.  Anyway, their little gurgles have become a part of our household soundtrack.  And between the six of us, they do usually get fed.

Bears, Birds, BUTTERFLIES and Frogs

I am building confidence with pets.  The fail-proof butterfly kit was a boost.  For everyone.  We watched with wonder as they turned from caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly.  I did worry that they wouldn't make it to the outside world before the cold weather passed.  But, they did, and we got to bask in their release.  (Except for John, that is.  I forgot that he was napping, and he remains perplexed by their disappearance.)

It is miraculous to see how much they experience is so few days.  And their days do seem so numbered.  We still look for them in our backyard, and hope they've lived long and sweet butterfly lives.

BEARS, Birds, Butterflies & Frogs

Animal life seems to be right before our eyes this Spring season.  Among my top 10 wishes for my kids is that their consciousness always honors and entails wildlife.  This past weekend, we had the chance to honor a mother bear up close, with just a window between us.  It was thrilling.  

Bears are mythological in John's little mind (and probably in all of ours), and I wonder how exactly our  sighting figured into his story.   She was actually a beautiful mix of mythology and poetry as she loped away into the woods, between the triangles on Clara's birthday flags. 

Turning Eight

Clara's eighth birthday played out just as she wished, and just as she has wished since we can remember.  She likes to celebrate with family.  Lucky for us all, my parents had an open calendar and came to spend a long weekend celebrating.  

Birthday highlights included a personally designed balloon hat, a mechanical wild horse ride, a midnight maypole, frogs (more on that later), made-by-John cupcakes, and a first ever skateboard ride wearing her new dress.  All in all, the celebration was colorful and unique, just like Clara.  Happy birthday!

Turning Six

June's sixth birthday happened to coincide very closely with her first lost tooth.  She has been waiting not so patiently for both events, so the dual arrival was over-the-top.  She is entering new ranks, and it shows, but her sparkle is growing right along with her.  Happy Birthday, June.