the sounds of summer....

some summer sounds change from year to year.

when i was little and forced into acting camp the sounds consisted of songs and dances about "green, green, green, green, GREEN HORNETS! zzzzzzzz" (just remember the arm motions that go along with that?)

or when we were on the bike bath selling all of annie's home-baked goods at a price that was way too low the sounds would be "LEMONADE!!! LEEEMMONAAAADE!!

or the sounds of the thunder storms that would send me running to ourleen's bed, so she could protect her big sis from the scary boomers.

or the sounds from the tent of giggles, and silliness, and stories. the sounds of snoring from your tent mate (t and i traded that back and forth), or the bodily functions of the first campers waking up (toot! oops xavy), and the last one to arise ("I was just DREAMING a little" -Dec).

the sounds of summer are so great, so distinct, so vivid, and so cherished.

but there is one sound that is indelible.

it is the sound i used to dread as a child.

for me it marked the end, returning to the 'burbs after a blissful summer on mv. it was the tree frogs, the crickets, the animals. they were loud, and having not heard them all summer the first night back they would keep me awake. all night. and i would wonder how anyone EVER slept with all the racket.

as i sat outside tonight enjoying the NON-humidity i thought if this, and how i embrace these sounds now. for me now summer doesn't mean months of freedom, beaches and awkward acting camps, but it still is special. it means ice cream can be eaten twice a day without the blink of an eye. it means late nights, fudged bedtimes and dirty feet.

i embrace the sounds now. all of them.

and i may even say that the acting camp was not all that bad.

i do make one pretty fierce hornet.

Two square.

* Guess who's feet these are and win a prize!!!!!

(The feet have nothing to do with the post, except that there are 2 of them).

Nonie is smitten.

Dec is smitten.

They are both IN LOVE with the neighbor kids across the street.

And they should be.

These kids are older.

Our kids flirt with them at every chance. Calling out their names. Showing off their toys.

(It is disgraceful, really. I mean, who are these kids?)

The neighborhood children are far wiser and way cooler than Dec & Nonie's parents.

Or at least, let this be the night that Dec made that realization.

The night he received his FIRST EVER invite to join in a game of "Two Square".

The game was being played right out on the quiet street in front of our house and he was treated like royalty for the duration. Dec was "the beginner player" who (for some odd reason........wink, wink), never lost.

Our two neighbors rotated around him throughout the game.

He could do no wrong among these sweety pies who kept calling him "Decky", hence his permanent grin. These are the kids who have pinky sweared that they will say "hi" to Dec whenever they see him in the hallway of his Elementary School. And they will make sure he is never picked on by bullies. Really, they promise this to me each time I see them.

I'm pretty certain he played Two-Square wrong the whole night.

And I (me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me - that was for you T), I don't even know what two-square is. I think it is a modified version of four-square. Or boxball. Or whatever it was called when you were a kid.

But tonight Dame and I looked at each other over a cocktail on the front porch and realized that the lure of two square was nothing we could compete with.

*Cheers to us!* I guess.

He was off.

Nonie followed close on his heals. Through the gate - they each grabbed an outstretched hand.

It was 100% summer. Again.

The "odd man out" tonight was in charge of keeping Nonie safe along the road.

And, let this be one small step, though a significant tug on the heartstrings, of "letting him go". Letting him go a bit further than he was yesterday.

God forbid.

Two square: I'm not sure if I should love you or hate you.

Rules and why I sometimes don't follow them

I'm no dummy. I know rules are important.
In fact, until very recently I considered myself a rule-follower.
You know the type. Sitting in the front row, eyes on the teacher, bringing your homework in early with some extra credit project just 'cuz you felt like it.
Then when I told Eric I was a rule-follower just last week he rolled his eyes at me.
Rolled them!
Because we had just taken Drake for a walk on the ski trails and blew by a "Warning: No Tresspassing" sign. Well, in all honesty he paused and said "Should we go? It says no trespassing" and I said "When did you turn into such a wimp" and THEN blew by.
Besides that sign wasn't for us.

And things like, alright I know it's some sort of law not to talk on your phone and drive according to Oprah but who gets cell service at their house anymore? So if I need to make a call I'm going to make a call and put the phone in my lap if I'm passing a cop.
Besides I'm a really good driver. And I bet Oprah doesn't even have a license.

Don't worry.
I'm going to return my library books and pay my bills.
But don't try to tell me that eating raw cookie dough is going to give me salmonella and think that is going to stop me.

Because, as I have come to find out, a rule-follower I am not (always).

I think about rules'n'stuff when I turn around in other people's driveways,
because that is something that Granny Eileen told Aunt Eileen to never do.
And so, she doesn't.
She'll drive miles and miles to find a different place to pull a u-ey.
Me? I'll check their mail and honk hello as I 3-point it the other way.
I remember mom telling me this about the time she told me that you shouldn't pull off an exit for gas unless you can see the gas station.
I'll let Emah share what happens when you break this rule at 9pm in Sketchy, Virginia with the gas light on.

Hm, Mom also told us to make an M with our arms when we saw the McDonald's arches.
And that soft toilet paper clogs the toilet.

Maybe some rules really WERE meant to be broken. Just not all at once?
I'll think twice next time I toot my own horn only to have eyes rolled at me.
Rolled!
Besides, now I have a stomachache.

A song that they sing of their homes in the sky.

it had been close to 6 years since i'd listened to "Rockabye Sweet Baby James".

far too long, if you ask me.

the other night - the eve of July 24 (Dec's birthday eve)... the song came on loud and clear.

the tunes bellowed out from the wooden stage set up on the shores of the lake.

the entire neighborhood was out listening - dancing.

the riviera was The place to be. and There we were.

the american flag blew in the breeze.

the moon was full. and the sun set across the pond. just over the montessori school.

it was the end of a perfect day and I enjoyed it.

i was dancing by the edge of the lake with the hubby and kids. and all our neighbors.

it was late. there were moonlit treetops. really beautiful.

it was 100% summer.

and during all the commotion and dancing and sweet baby james

i couldn't help but think back to the "fun run" we had earlier in the day...

my memories of the morning were of families together. happy.

families. barefoot. in a river. together.

and there is a young mom with us (in my memories).

she is smiling. of course.

she is happy to be there enjoying the run and the small stuff with her boys.

illness tries to take her from her sweet babies. from these barefoot river moments.

but still she smiles.

and here i am. now.

following her humble lead.

smiling too. of course. at the small stuff.

so here's to sweet babies everywhere

and to parents who feel honored to spend moonlit nights with them

....There's a song that they sing when they take to the highway

A song that they sing when they take to the sea

A song that they sing of their home in the sky

Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep

But singing works just fine for me

Goodnight you moonlight ladies

Rock-a-bye sweet baby James

Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose

Won't you let me go down in my dreams

And rock-a-bye sweet baby James...

James Taylor

And what if you don't know everything?

I sat in a class last week with some really cranky people.
And if their intent was to make everyone around them miserable,
well,
mission accomplished my friends.

You know what their problem was?
They were know-it-alls.
They already knew everything,
and they'd been using it for years.
But you have to take this class in order to take the next level of this class.
So I was thinking of making a suggestion to the people who run it to split the first section up into two sections.
The people who feel like they already know everything.
And the nice people.
(I think you know where I'd be)
(Right?)
Because their attitude was toxic.
By Thursday after lunch I starting to get the ants (in the pants) and wanted out.
But NO, I thought, there's still more to learn.

And besides I'm only a know-it-all about one thing and that's walking my dog.
I REALLY REALLY know what I'm doing.

I don't think I want to be a know-it-all. It doesn't seem like a very fun role to play and I'm not a good thespian anyway.



I even wonder if I should keep being a know-it-all about dog-walking. The horror of thinking that my way IS the highway.
But, I don't want to make people around me miserable, because I think I know so much.
If I haven't already.

So now I will just try to be a know-it-most.
Because other people know things too.
And sometimes, I don't know-it-at-all,
and I've got to figure it out as I go.

Something Was Missing ~ How I was even ME.

Dear Dec.
On the eve of your 5th bday, you are everywhere I look. You are everywhere I turn. My last few days have been filled with such power, power, powerful emotional MEMORIES of; holding you as a newborn, propping you up when you learned to sit, supporting you as you struggled to walk, cheering for you as you scored your first goal....

....Imagining how I was even ME before you came into my world.


All I could do was cry to the Doc yesterday when he turned during your 5-year-old-check-up- and asked me a simple, "So, how's he doing?....".

Sob.

"I'm just way too emotional right now to even answer that..." and I broke down in tears.

And you went on to prove to the Doc that you are doing just fine.

(Thank you very much).

You read for him. He wrote the following words on the crinkly white examination table paper and you read them one by one: cat, box, dad, the, smart (start).

You skipped for him - across the room - in your skivvies.

You told him about art camp, Vermont camp and summertime on the Vineyard.

And I just sat.

I just sat There.

I just sat There And.

I just sat There And Cried.


My sensitivity may be heightened. But. Everywhere I turn it seems I'm gently reminded of the power of your existence and the impact it has had on my world.

I'm so proud of you for the incredible little guy you are and I'm so incredibly happy/honored/overjoyed that God chose me to guide you through this incredible journey.

***

A few hours ago we returned from a quick jaunt to Auntie Emah's (Impromptu - she's good at that) Pizza Party and I completed a few things for your bday party tomorrow. The party, a "fun run" in Pound Ridge Reservation, modeled after the Leatherman's Loop is YOUR masterpiece. We're all just along for the ride....

I took a look at your bday cake this evening, which I'd decorated earlier while Nonie swung from my legs. The entire time. For the record.

It has Oreos in the middle of it. Your favorite. For the record too.



But something was missing.

So I added to it. Impromptu (I'm not nearly as good as Auntie Emah at the Impromptu stuff. But I'm learning).



And please Dec. Please do consider that addition above an exact replica of what you have done for my soul for the past 5 years.

You are my angel.

My sweet, sweet angel.

And I adore you.

(Or have I said that already?)

Bump.

Apparently....life is full of choices.

Being in Stowe reminds me of this. The sign on the door a few doors down from Mom & Dad's says something like "remove your shoes OR clean the floors".

Every time I read it, I'm not sure if I like that sign. In fact, I'm pretty certain I don't.

It really seems a bit too abrasive to hang on a front door.

I prefer a welcome mat. Thanks for askin'.

But the "Duck or Bump" (your head) sign ... this one makes me laugh each time I see it.

Prolly because the place it hangs in Stowe has become a secret family hideaway.

A place where the kid's shoot pool, play the piano, fight over the tv remote - all as if we're in our own place.

But we're not! I don't do the dishes at the hof de Stowe. Hooray for no dishes!

And the "Duck or Bump" sign? Well, just ask Xave about how he feels about a bump.... after his first few forays on his new 'coaster.

Life is full of choices and it really:

Don't mean a thing if it ain't got that bump.

Right?

Xavey, back me up here.

Cheese Puffs

"Ch-pops"...

huh?

"Ch-pops"...

Is daddy a ch-pop?

Yea.

Is mommy a ch-pop?

Yea.

Is xavy a ch-pop?

Yea.

Hmmm

At first I thought, it was chocolate cup. That makes sense to me. We do love our chocolate milk. And it always comes in a cup. But he wants ch-pops in the morning, and ch-pops in the evening and ch-pops in the middle of the night. Everyone and everything prompted a ch-pops? Ch-pops mommmy? All the way to school.

Tar thought she knew what ch-pops was so she went and bought them at the store- resulting in this

CHEESE PUFF TEETH to start out a car ride 4+ hours in length.

But I think I figured out what ch-pops means.

I think it's this:

Ch-pops are fun. Ch-pops are family. Ch-pops are everything that we want to do all the time. Ch-pops should be had at all times. CH-pops make you fake sick at school so your daddy can pick you up early and you can do this

To build a home

I am no mother, but oh I have felt heartache.


I am no baker, but I can turn these


into this.



I am no designer, but I have the shirts on my back.



I am a master musician.
With a band.


I am a sweet-blooded snack for bugs.
Can't stop me from eatin' my lunch. Oh-no.


I am getting ready to smooch this chooch.
Yes I am

See Nonie.

See Nonie run into the library. Run Nonie. Run.

See Nonie dip magnets from the fridge into her yogurt.

See Nonie go potty.

See Nonie wear Daddy's shoes.

See Nonie finger paint. With peanut butter and milk.

See Nonie chew on her hair ties a minute after Mommy does her hair.

See Nonie crawl into the fridge to try to reach the grapes.

See Nonie cuddle with a dog. Cuddle Nonie. Cuddle.

See Nonie touch everything in the house. Twice. In one hour.

See Nonie pull Mommy's flowers out of the flower boxes on the front porch.

See Nonie get doted on by her babysitter.

See Nonie get spoiled by her babysitter.

See Nonie sit perfectly for hair dos with her babysitter.

See Nonie with 4 cute pigtails in her hair.

See Nonie with lovely french braids.

See Nonie get her nails done by her babysitter.

See Nonie get her nails done by her babysitter even though Nonie's Mommy has hidden all the nail polish in the house.

See Nonie with bright red nails.

See Nonie with pink nails and white flower embellishments.

See Nonie with her nails done for the third consecutive week.

See Nonie with a french manicure.

Letting Go. Holding On.

Have you missed me?

Been a little while since my last post.

Busy keeping Nonie's hair out of her eyes, being Murph's swim coach, keeping the local librarians company, building trails with spritely 16-year olds, doing cannonballs in Gran's pool... you know, the summertime basics.

But mostly. I've been practicing the fine art of letting go (of the small stuff).

And holding on (to the good stuff)...

Let Go: And never mind that the caps are all on the wrong markers. (At least) They have caps.


Hold On: To these cute little hands. These sticky, dirty, summer hands (that create the cutest little summer pictures).

Let Go: Of bedtimes...in the summertime.

Hold On: To the smells, the sites, the sounds.

Hold On: To family.

Hold On: To friends.

Hold On: To Miss Nonie up there.

Hold On: To Mr. Murph down here.

Let Go: Of all things weighing you down.


Hold On: To that baby catfish. How cute it is.


Let Go: Of the things that slow you down and block your way.

Hold On: To the things that make the journey enjoyable.

Hold On: To those sweet babies when they let you.


Let Go: Of the mountains made of molehills.

Hold On. Hold On. Hold On....

Oh! Let Go. Let Go. Let Go...

a couple of questions

why when you just went to the store and bought fresh fruit do things break into your home to eat them?

how did the "thing" know i had fruit right there?

but most importantly,

where is the "thing"


and was it smart enough to get back out it's hole?


i guess we'll find that out tonight...